Work Text:
“I’ll give you one last chance to confess.”
Tecchou could feel his ears ringing as Jouno pulled out a pair of pliers from his back pocket and tugged at the criminal’s thumbnail. The samurai wasn’t unfamiliar with torture nor purgatory, though. As a matter of fact, he knew that both himself and his colleague were well accustomed to the most brutal forms of torment.
Irrespective of the reality, the soldier could never once relish in the lamentation displayed in front of his eyes. Cruelty wasn’t a part of justice - that belief was something he’d lived by since the beginning of time. To him, a single slash from his blade would be more preferable than any other method of retribution. He’d lived years and years to preserve the intrinsic goodness within the world, punishing those who commit evil and malice for a future devoid of all violence. What he was doing strayed far from his ideals.
With each tick of the clock, the grip around his sword shaft tightened.
Still, he kept his gaze on the culprit, then momentarily shifted to Jouno, hoping to extract even the tiniest bit of intel to put an end to the wrongful maltreatment. Tecchou could practically feel the looming aura of his colleague and the scrunch of his nose.
The stench of blood was already filling up the room.
“Still persistent on withholding information, I see?”
Jouno yanked the pliers, simultaneously removing the man’s nails from his fingers, revealing nothing but a fleshy pool of blood.
The man’s face twisted into a look of anguish as cold sweat ran down his temple. The criminal was well up on the torturous demise that awaited him; Tears were already welling up in his eyes, both from the pain and the prospect of dying under the hands of the two men whom he’d bragged about defeating.
A deep shade of scarlet seeped through the cracks on the oak table, almost glistening beneath the small lamp hovering above. Jouno couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, which drew out sheer disgust from Tecchou.
…
The memories are still so vivid, from the horrific scenery to even the tiny specks of dust and debris that glided through the dimly lit room, all of which have been engraved into Tecchou’s mind.
He remembers the slight tug of his partner’s lips, the way his eyelashes flickered in amusement in correspondence to each time he managed to elicit a grunt from the victim.
It’s all so haunting.
Tecchou doesn’t even know how long it has been since the death of his colleague. The stinging pain that penetrated his lungs as he gasped for air has yet to subside after all that time, it’s as if the samurai had never even left the airport, let alone stop looking for his missing partner amongst all bloodshed.
He’d already forgotten about the throbbing migraine in his brain by the time he began to sprint through the halls of the airport, opening and closing every door he saw in hopes of spotting the familiar figure once more. The sound of his shoes repeatedly colliding with the cold cement was all he could hear, further amplified by the hollow atmosphere that engulfed the entire area.
The contemporary state of the world had fallen from the high pedestal it once sat upon, leaving Tecchou’s mind devoid of any concern for the well-being of infected citizens that he had sworn to prioritize countless of times. Perhaps the samurai was just as selfish and narrow-minded as the rogues who died at his hands, but not even that idea could make him divert his attention to the justice that he used to devote his life to.
“For just five minutes, I will turn my attention not to justice, but to Jouno.” He reminded himself, over and over again until the words began to spill out from his bruised lips. Tecchou needed to rescue Jouno, and for that he was willing to sacrifice his pursuit of probity, his ideals and virtues.
There weren’t supposed to be cracks in his morality. Yet, the samurai found his once flawless throne of justice fractured in a thousand places at the cost of his partner’s life, and it was something his conscience allowed in that exact moment. Tecchou didn’t know when he’d become so groundless and damned, he didn’t know when Jouno had overtaken his moral compass. For just five minutes, Jouno would mean more to him than his own life.
As each door flung open under his force, the samurai could feel the little shred of hope he held gradually deplete. He was beyond desperate to find something, anything that indicated that Jouno was still alive - or at least, his body was still present, regardless of its state.
Tecchou yearned for a mere glimpse of his partner, he needed to know whether or not Jouno was still alive, or if he had already faced his painful end.
The latter was what the samurai dreaded.
Almost half an hour had passed since Tecchou had awoken from his prior battle and begun to search for his colleague. His muscles contracted in agony and blood wouldn’t stop leaking from his cracked forehead. If he didn’t put a halt to his grueling work then, there was no doubt that his ravaged body would eventually fall apart on its own.
The sounds of ore doors opening and closing continued, with motions strong enough to cut through the palpable silence that ate away at him with time. There was nothing else he could do other than push himself past his own threshold, imposing adrenaline through his veins to fuel himself with power to go on.
It wasn’t long before the swordsman found himself standing in front of the last doorway in the hall. The rusty metal was defiled by countless marks, most of them being attributed to a blade that seemed all too familiar to him. The dents were portent for him to form a brief explanation within his head as to what could’ve possibly occurred - That speculation made him sick. Tecchou was overwhelmed by nausea as he twisted the knob and pushed himself against the door.
What he saw almost made him vomit.
Beaten to a pulp on frigid tiles was a silver haired male, his white locks embellished with a crimson red dye that highlighted his soft features. He was lying in a pool of liquid that came in a similar shade, unmoving and destitute of any potential sign of life.
Coherent thoughts were instantly muddled as he approached the body, his erratic heartbeats thrashing his chest with more and more force each time. It was nothing unusual for members of the Hunting Dogs to sustain vile injuries on the daily, it was normal for them to have death lurking from every nook and cranny every time a mission was brought about. This was fine. After all, weren’t they supposed to die for the sake of the world? Sooner or later they would.
That notion wasn’t something Tecchou could swallow.
Jouno - The word that he uttered out was ‘Jouno’. Maybe it was the fact that his brain had bled, maybe it was puke daring to spew out of his mouth upon laying eyes on his partner, bled out and maimed on the floor with fatal wounds deep enough to leave his entrails exposed, that rendered sultry eyes. Soft fabric grazed blemished skin, rough fingers wavering with fear of breaking all that was left of him. Like a porcelain doll, Jouno’s face was adorned with cracks and rifts. Yet, the samurai still lingered.
Tecchou placed one hand on Jouno’s back, the other hovering over his cheek as hot tears dripped from his chin. White hair, now tinted with rose that seeped through his red uniform; Smooth skin already ravaged by blood and decay - How long had he been lying there, awaiting his demise as he clutched the cuts on his body? The swordsman couldn’t help but notice his partner’s bleeding earlobe, along with the fallen bell tassel that splayed across the ground.
The glimmer of his gold bell was what caught the attention of most passersby. It was what Tecchou first noticed when he was introduced to Jouno, at least. There wouldn’t be a single day where the silver haired man was seen without his earring. With each step he took the bell rattled in correspondence, further illuminating his presence. So how careless could he be to let the string go loose then?
“You dropped your earring, Jouno.” He breathlessly whispered through his tears.
A hand reached out to pick up the tassel and brought it close to Jouno’s rear hair. Tecchou kept his arm still, trying to emulate how the earring used to dangle from his partner’s ear.
Even when his heartbeats were silenced, Jouno Saigiku still looked so ethereal.
Footsteps had already come to a halt, nobody was there to hear or see Tecchou Suehiro cry as he cradled his partner in his arms, rocking and holding him so adoringly as if he were the only thing he’d ever held dear.
Help didn’t arrive until Jouno’s blood had gone completely cold, some of it sticking onto Tecchou’s bruised skin like there were still unspoken words stuck to the man’s pale lips.
…
News about the vampirism spread like an epidemic throughout the nation, entailing important information about the captain’s death and his treachery towards the country. It was only a matter of time until the samurai would hear of the revelation.
Turning on the television would forever remain the one thing Tecchou places his never lifting regret on.
Shards of glass dusted the hospital room, akin to scattered glitter in yearly conventions he used to attend with his team. Tecchou couldn’t understand why they were there until his hands began to bleed. What followed were guttural screams that didn’t stop until the swordsman’s vocal cords strained against his esophagus.
The television kept running, voices relentlessly continued as if they wanted him to break.
Several arrays of panels were then displayed on screen, showing a bloodied body of a white haired male with the name “Jouno Saigiku” titled at the bottom of the screen. Each photo felt like a brutal jab straight into Tecchou’s lungs, blocking his airways as he desperately tried to breathe through coughs and gags.
Nurses fled in and out of the room, footsteps became more and more apparent as the yelling slowly drifted into the back of his head. The feeling of anesthesia burned holes into Tecchou’s mind, numbing away bits of pain that he knew would certainly come back.
There was no point in trying to resist the effects of sedatives, there was no point in staying sober if remorse was the only thing he could feel. Was it really the mask of justice that blinded him from the twisted truth, or was it his own fault for believing in the non-existent “sanctity of life”?
On the battlefield, he was like a wild animal waiting to be tamed - ravenous for a taste of triumph that was never granted. A monster, that’s what he was.
Throughout the years of serving and carrying out his established duties as a member of the national police force, not once had Tecchou stopped to question his perception of righteousness. There wasn’t anything in particular that caused his mind to wander far into the essence of his chosen path - The blunt idea of solely eradicating all “evil” was enough to turn him into a prisoner of corrupt society, mindlessly giving up parts of himself to build a fictitious future. He was simply too credulous.
Maybe it was his fault; Maybe everything, or something could’ve been prevented if he had just thought things through. Maybe if he had just taken a measly second to question the constructed definition of “goodness”, he could’ve rescued Jouno from his demise.
But he didn’t - He misunderstood justice, he misunderstood his partner, his opponent, his people…
He failed them, and he failed himself.
The gut wrenching realization that the one justice he’d always embraced was never really his, but instead someone else’s, sliced him deeper than any blade would’ve.
If only it was possible to dwell in the soothing stagnancy of time. Unmoving, unfeeling, serving out his penance for having been so thoughtless and visceral. His mind was getting hazy as thoughts trampled on one another, spiraling down to the “if”s and “but”s that would forever remain unanswered. Come to think of it, Tecchou had no reason to chase after something that was never even there - He had no right to be a “Hunting dog”.
…
Here he lies, barely being able to pry his eyes open on his hospital bed. Unkempt locks splay onto unchanged sheets, some strands already falling off due to long-term fatigue. Tecchou hasn’t allowed himself to sleep since the incident, it’s not like he can anyway. His needs - no longer perceptible through the waves of melancholy that have been crashing against his sore body; Like a corpse, he doesn’t speak, doesn’t eat, doesn’t even bother to get out of his bed unless he has to go to the bathroom. Anyone who hasn’t known him prior to the incident would probably think he’s one with the deadbeat criminals lurking around dark corners of the street.
At times, even Tecchou finds his appearance startling to look at.
“Tecchou-san.” A voice snaps him back from his trance. “I’ve brought you your food, you haven’t eaten anything for the past 3 days.” Concern reeks from the nurse’s tone, rendering small voice cracks in her mellow tone.
Tecchou doesn’t respond. His fists instinctively tighten in exasperation as quiet huffs escape his dry lips. Meticulous hospitalization has never really been something he’s particularly fond of. To him, as long as his body isn’t completely defective, he’ll be able to hold his own in the battlefield. That mindset is what made any full recovery of Tecchou’s rather elusive, as he would never give himself more time to rebound after receiving the bare minimum. Nevertheless, not once did he outwardly repudiate care.
“Hello?” Tecchou could see the nurse’s blurry figure behind the opaque glass, shifting from side to side to spot a sign that indicated his presence. After a few gentle knocks, she eventually walked away with the tray still in her hands.
Miscellaneous documents revolving around the swordsman’s recovery process are scrunched up, littered across the dusty floor - It’s not like they hold any meaning if the patient is only further deteriorating. He runs his slim fingers through the rear of his hair, quickly untangling raveled knots as his eyes close shut in frustration.
For the past few days, the samurai’s mind has been flooded with undeviating thoughts about the people he’d associated with before the incident; Specifically, his colleagues. Before becoming an official member of the Hunting Dogs, Tecchou was a part of the national army. Despite his young age, military training had already been long incorporated into his daily routine, hence his outstanding performance in combat. The young soldier was deemed to be one of the best combatants of his contemporary team by the age of 16, warranting endless admiration from his peers, yet his summit didn’t compensate for the loss of his childhood.
After having lost his parents in an accident that caused both of their deaths, Tecchou was enlisted in the military by his other guardians as none of them were in the right place to take proper care of him. He doesn’t remember much detail about his early years - Thick mist always seems to encapsulate his mind whenever he tries to recall any memory from before he joined the army. Still, he refuses to let go of those thoughts, or at least the desire to remember.
The only things that haven’t been blocked out by newly built remembrance are the faint laughs of a child, a toddler that still harbored all the innocence in the world without a speck of dirt in sight, a kid that would laugh so carelessly as if there was nothing worth worrying about. It wasn’t until Tecchou became an adult that he realized that kid was none other than himself - one that was savoring his last bits of happiness.
His teenage years merely consisted of grueling training around dilapidated barracks, sleepless nights on the hard concrete floor where he had nothing but a dense cotton pillow and blanket he had to share with his roommates.
If there was one thing worth mentioning about them, Tecchou would probably say they smelled like straight shit.
While the other kids would receive frequent visits from their loved ones, the young soldier would never expect anyone to come see him after each training session. The military was his home, and it had been ever since they dropped him off.
There wasn’t a time when Tecchou could feel the warmth of open arms, or the thrill a normal teenager would get from simply enjoying the things in life; He wasn’t exposed to anything beyond the ranges of battle and violence - basic education was something he didn’t receive until much later on, when the generals realized that the military boy had little to no fundamental knowledge about society. But even then, it wasn’t enough to accustom Tecchou to the typical way of life.
Feelings remained a foreign concept to him for years, only becoming more known when the boy got selected to become an elite member of society - a Hunting Dog.
His newfound profession not only required his great strength, but it also made sure he harbored skills to merit his position in modern civilization, ranging from rudimentary communication to deep and tactful critiques that he found himself struggling to give.
Tecchou always felt like a sore thumb amongst his work colleagues despite being more than capable to exceed the majority of them in terms of battle; His benightedness was a never ceasing concern - loitering in the samurai’s mind day after day. In a way, he felt so little, so devoid of some kind of strength - He felt inferior.
Shame would creep up Tecchou’s cheeks every time he was confronted with an inquiry regarding etiquettes and insight, painting his face with a vermillion flush that beat down his ego. Perhaps he was just condemned to being a mere weapon from the start; Why exactly was there a need to deeply feel and connect when he’d already managed to survive years without it?
It was a dead end, a rhetorical question that would slowly break into pieces and dissipate with time as Tecchou could do anything but push them to the tip of his sour tongue.
…
Polished shoes clanked against the marblewood floor, bearing down extended nails that protruded from old planks - An unfamiliar figure had emerged from the seam layers of air. The creaking sound of the conference room door was like a cold breeze that led Tecchou back to the humdrum routine he’d long been familiarized with. The swordsman carefully stacked his unfinished reports on top of one another, ultimately sliding them into one thick file then pushing it aside, leaving ample space to view the welcomed guest.
Whispers, warnings were all that was audible to Tecchou just seconds before the figure stepped in. Perhaps it was his oversight that caused him to miss the horrors of what was about to transpire, yet no questions were asked.
“Evil”, was all they had to say. The rising suspense nearly pushed the samurai off the edge of his seat.
“Attention, everyone.” The commander’s voice struck fear to even the birds outside the window, ceasing all redundant noises prior. Tecchou instinctively straightened his back as a response, his eyes merely fixated on the main subject in the room.
A new addition to the team was introduced by the name of Jouno Saigiku - A former superior of a criminal organization. A serene, yet grim smile made itself apparent upon the man’s entrance - disturbing, unnerving, but so, so compelling.
Hidden eyes were kept under a row of soft lashes, fluttering with each turn of his head. The man’s fair skin was decorated with a subtle tint of maroon, complimenting the red hair tips that framed the sides of his face.
“Pleased to meet you all.” Jouno’s voice had a certain sweetness to it, soothing down as he topped off his introduction with a polite bow.
In stark contrast to the fierce expression he wore prior, bedecked on his face then was a charismatic smile that radiated nobility and virtue, momentarily enrapturing Tecchou’s heart that it began to skip.
It was almost as if Jouno had heard the staining whispers of his past, consequently shifting his demeanor to something more pleasant.
The way Jouno’s gloved fingers found themselves up to the rear of his silver hair, carefully tucking them back to reveal a golden bell tassel that dangled from his earlobe, strangely enough, made the samurai’s chest tighten in awe. Every gesture of his new colleague seemed so oddly alluring, with each one intoxicating him until his mind became mush.
The feeling that surged through the swordsman’s body in that very moment was like a dip in ice cold water, putting an abrupt end to the deep slumber he thought he’d never wake up from.
To say that Jouno was the first one to break Tecchou’s stone cold heart would be an overstatement. Yet, there wasn’t any other way one could word it, No one understood as to why that was the case.
Perhaps it was the fact the silver haired man wore his charm on his sleeve as if it were a novelty, frequently making witty comments as if he knew about the way Tecchou’s heartbeats were bound to spike up every time he spoke; or maybe it was how his features would clash in with the soft rays of light, further enhancing his flawless appearance. Nevertheless, he struck the samurai with unfathomable emotions.
It wasn’t every day that Tecchou felt so obligated to seek out a person on free will; He’d catch himself giving Jouno brief glances every once in a while for no reason in particular. “Looking out” for the new colleague soon became what Tecchou would look forward to when going to work, irrespective of all the warnings that came his way.
The samurai knew his fate had been sealed.
-
“Is there a problem?” The silver-haired man huffed as he began to make finishing touch-ups to his paperworks, catching Tecchou off guard in his seat. “You’ve been staring at me an awful lot ever since I came here.”
“Who, me?” Panic rose as the swordsman finished his sentence, realizing that he had not once been slick with his actions. Would an apology be appropriate under such a circumstance? He wouldn’t know.
“Yeah, you. You’ve got a problem with me?”
Oh shit.
If only there was still an ounce of awareness left in Tecchou’s conscience - Had he been anybody else then, he would immediately free himself from the potential association with a “criminal”.
“Oh, no. I just… I think you’re…” The words were caught in his throat, blocking away every incoming exhale of air that his body so desperately needed. Tecchou sat there with his mouth agape, his body inundated with a burning sensation as he began to think of another approach.
Jouno raised an eyebrow and leaned back into his seat, patiently tapping his fingers onto the table while he awaited a response.
The silver-haired man could vividly hear the rise and fall of Tecchou’s chest, as well as the way each drop of perspiration began to form on the samurai’s forehead the longer he laid his amber eyes on him. The realization that Tecchou might have developed a specific liking towards Jouno was becoming more and more apparent by the second.
“Well?” Jouno could feel a small grin tugging on the side of his lips as Tecchou struggled. It was no secret that he relished in other people’s hardships, given his crude history as a criminal executive. The thought of already having someone to screw with fueled the former rogue with pure joy.
The swordsman continued to let out impulsive stammers, his voice cracking with each time he screwed up. Tecchou was certain that he’d made a complete fool out of himself, yet he was still adamant on providing his colleague with a proper explanation.
Before the samurai could form his next sentence, Jouno snarkishly teased, “Do I make you nervous, Tecchou-san?”
All that was apparent to Tecchou was the impending redness daring to form on his cheeks, rendering his head sore and heavy from overwhelming pressure that Jouno had purposefully bestowed on him.
They were right. Being cruel was his forte.
His unwavering smile was almost sickening - One that continued to burn holes into the swordsman’s mind even when almost a decade had passed. Tecchou wouldn’t - and he couldn’t let go of the overbearing shame that numbed away his senses as he exited the room, arm hovering in front of his mouth and nose as an attempt to secrete the embodiment of his feelings.
Still, the truth was as clear as day - He could try to deceive Jouno with his words, but his body had never stopped telling him how he truly felt.
If only there was a way to rewind time, so that Tecchou could gather enough courage to be frank with his partner. If only in that moment, the samurai could subdue his stubborn tongue and utter out the words he’d wished to say.
“You’re so handsome, Jouno.”
…
A few months had passed since the day that last marked the two co-workers’ awkward exchange. The vicious blows that would strike the samurai’s heart upon every word Jouno uttered had quelled over time, bringing back a temporary sense of security that helped him come to neutral terms with his embarrassment. The silver-haired man had also noticed the gradual shift in the brunette’s attitude, yet it didn’t warrant any enquiries.
Sure, pushing Tecchou to the edge could be comical, but Jouno had other things to ponder about.
Both men had already put aside the idea of conversing with one another, as they knew that would only further aggravate their fractured acquaintanceship. Focus was soon shifted to their individual day-to-day tasks, burying away all potential of them having to interact. At least, that was until the commander decided to conduct a new mission strategy.
Creeping through the blinds were golden rays that polished marble tiles, illuminating the office in its last moments of the day before work hours were over. Tecchou had already fixed the grip around his briefcase, preparing to exit the room before an arm stopped him at the door. Following the brunette was Jouno, who had instinctively stepped back upon the sudden hold up.
Annoyance was evident on the silver-haired man’s face, accompanied by a groan that signified inconvenience.
“Not so fast, gentlemen. I’ve got some news to share.” A familiar voice meddled in - It was the captain who had something to say. The superior gestured the two men back to their seats as he secured his position upfront, behind the small podium.
Momentary silence imbued the room, encapsulating both Jouno and Tecchou like a thin veil that was soon ripped apart once the commander opted to speak.
’“Lately, there has been a rising concern towards gifted criminals, alongside the proficiency of our performance.” The man leaned against the elevated surface as he cleared his throat, softening his tone before continuation, “These crooks are becoming more powerful by the second, and it will only be a matter of time until they surpass our threshold.”
Indeed, there was no doubt that the team had been experiencing some hardships in battle. Returning to the building completely sapped and worn-out was nothing out of the ordinary to a Hunting Dog. After all, as long as they managed to get through with their missions and capture deserving criminals, there was no need to overthink things, right?
The risks were simply too high
“Us Hunting Dogs cannot merely depend on our enhancement surgeries to defeat them, so I think that it’s time we establish a new strategy to maintain peace among civilization from now on.” The captain’s gaze was stern and unwavering - fixated onto his subordinates while an answer awaited in suspense.
Tecchou, who had been listening intently to the speech, was the first to respond.
“Sir, have you ever thought of investing into more advanced firearms?”
Rather droll, as one might say, yet that comment wasn’t laced with mockery or impudence - On the contrary, it was a suggestion that stemmed from veracity and concern. At the end of the day, the guy had spent years mastering a variety of warzone equipment, his proposal wasn’t anything out of character.
However, the swordsman’s idea was quickly countered with a fact, being that extensive damage caused by weaponry would further exacerbate the current state of society. Tecchou simply nodded to the reasoning and sunk deeper into his seat.
A caustic remark - one that would manifest chills amidst the humid air was delivered from across the room, the silver-haired man calmly rested his face onto the palm of his hand, “My, my, what a bold suggestion, Tecchou-san. Say, captain, how about we send some assistance?”
Fukuchi hovered a hand over his mouth, fingers slowly stroking his mustache as he contemplated Jouno’s suggestion, carefully weighing the pros and cons before giving it a final verdict. It didn’t take long before the captain ended the short meeting with a nod, deeming the subordinate’s idea applicable.
…
With his back leaned against the frigid wall, Tecchou let out a hefty sigh before lifting his head up to look at his new work partner, who had been sulking ever since they received their new orders.
“Seriously? He’s really gonna twist my words? This isn’t what I meant at all!” Jouno complained. The samurai could practically feel his seething rage from across the hallway - biting, almost like an animal daring to claw at its prey. Then again, it was the first time he’d seen his partner act so human.
The seemingly tranquil grin that used to plaster onto the corners of Jouno’s mouth was replaced by a rather angular one, trying its hardest to conceal the raw emotions that threatened to burst out. And for just a split second, Tecchou found himself fawning over him again.
“And now I have to work with you, huh?” Jouno scowled as he turned to his new partner, his tone now croaky and harsh - as if he’d given up on trying to sugarcoat his fiery temper. “When I said I wanted backup, I meant for him to enlist help from the damn military, not carry out some elementary school pair work.”
Like a blazing flame, Jouno’s anger sparked a light - one that burned itself into the samurai’s rectina to the point his eyes began to hurt. Just looking at the aforementioned made Tecchou uneasy, yet, he couldn’t bite back a comment.
““Well, it’s been decided already. Be less equivocal with your requests next time, won’t you?” The brunette could clearly see how quick those words added to the tally, nearly causing his colleague to flip out right then and there.
He could practically feel the way Jouno’s body tensed up, bones grating against each other with each twist.
Their tension hung, laced with so much animosity that remorse began to surface.
A broken smile imposed itself onto the silver-haired man’s face, highlighted by edges sharp enough to cut open flesh. “Is that so, Tecchou-san?”
Swallowing his pride, the samurai swiftly turned away from his partner, following the action with a belated apology that lacked all sincerity. Intentionally or not, it had Jouno pissed off.
Then again, Tecchou wasn’t going let himself falter under the hands of his new partner - whose charm was promptly withering away as his vexation grew. The samurai knew better than to give Jouno the satisfaction he coveted.