Chapter Text
Tachihara Michizou is a Hunting Dog.
Down to his very core, Tachihara knows this to be true. There isn’t a single other thing he could be. He’s not a little brother anymore, and he’s barely a son. So, Tachihara is a Hunting Dog, and that’s all that’s left for him to be. The Captain found him and gave him an identity, a purpose to fill the hole of grief left behind with the loss of his brother, and Tachihara would fulfill that purpose to the very end.
Tachihara doesn’t quite fit in with the other Hunting Dogs, his uniform too loose on his scrawny teenage body and the way his hat constantly falls over his eyes. It’s a wonder the others even acknowledge him at all, much less accept him as part of their group despite his juvenile outlook on things (Jouno likes to tell him that no one could be more juvenile than Tecchou).
“Why does it feel like I’m being sent off to college..?” Tachihara throws the dark green hoodie over his shirt with a huff, the other Hunting Dogs standing nearby to him and murmuring amongst themselves. The vice commander has been fussing, not out of concern for Tachihara’s wellbeing but rather out of concern for the current mission’s outcome. Sending in their youngest member who’s only had about three years worth of training under his belt seems like a poor idea, but Teruko would sooner throw herself out of a moving airship than question the Captain’s decision making.
“It’s sort of like you are.” Jouno replies with a patient smile, and Tachihara nearly jumps out of his skin. When did Jouno even cross the room to get to him? “You’re going off to fulfill a long-term mission. It’s like college, but we’ll see you even less.”
“Yeah! We won’t be there to keep you in check, so you better not mess up!” Teruko chimes in as she hoists herself up onto Tachihara’s shoulders. “The Captain is counting on you!”
“I know, I know…” The pressure has been constant on Tachihara’s shoulders since the day that officer with kind eyes came to his door and informed him of what happened to his brother. A failure from the medic, the officer told his parents with a solemn frown, nothing anyone else could’ve done. This pressure feels different, though, because now if Tachihara fails then he’ll have nothing again. He’ll be forced to return to his parents calling him by the wrong name and the pitiful looks of his peers. He’ll die if he fails. He’ll die. He might not die but he’ll die.
“What’s with that attitude, huh?! You got something you wanna say to me, Tachihara?!” Teruko rages, throwing punches at Tachihara’s head that aren’t exactly meant to hurt. Tachihara winces anyways and a yelp rips its way out of his throat as he tries to get their vice captain off his shoulders. “You better respect your seniors, brat!”
Tachihara Michizou is a Hunting Dog, the youngest one of five at the age of 15 and the least experienced combat wise. And he’s about to become a part of the most dangerous organization Yokohama has to offer.
“You’re nervous.” Jouno points out softly, placing a hand on Tachihara’s shoulder. Tachihara leans into the contact a little as he stares at the floor. “I can hear your heartbeat stuttering in your chest. Are you that worried about the mission?”
Tachihara feels the bile rise in his throat at the question. Internally, he knows Jouno didn’t mean it in a disappointed manner but that doesn’t change the way it makes Tachihara’s nerves spike. He shrugs.
“Wouldn’t anyone be?” Tachihara asks, his voice small. He doesn’t know what to do, he’s never done a thing like this before. Infiltration was not something he was particularly good at doing, he couldn’t act like a mafioso. He doesn’t get it.
“I suppose that’s true, but there’s something else to it isn’t there?” Despite Jouno’s normally prickly exterior, he’s always been relatively kind to Tachihara. It felt warm, like the brother Tachihara lost at the hands of a war. Tachihara turns to Jouno with saddened, conflicted eyes.
“I don’t feel like I’m ready for something like this, I mean I’ve barely spent any time as a Hunting Dog and I’ve never even done infiltration so I don’t know why the Captain is trusting me with such an important mission-” Tachihara is cut off when Jouno gives his head a gentle chop, not to hurt but to capture his attention. Jouno’s expression, however compassionate, also carries a seriousness.
“It’s not your job to question the decisions the Captain makes. Your job is to do as he requests. Now, gather your things. You have our complete trust, and I expect you to conduct yourself like it.” Jouno’s words are a harsh reminder of reality, but Tachihara appreciates it. The Captain wouldn’t have given Tachihara such an important job if he didn’t believe that he could do it.
“...Right. Thank you, Jouno.”
Teruko jumps off of Tachihara’s shoulders and lands gracefully on the floor, straightening herself up with a huff.
“You’ll be fine, Tachihara. The Captain believes in you, so I do too.” She says, and for some reason it really does help. “Now go on. That can’t be your full disguise, can it?”
Teruko’s eyes scan over Tachihara’s current getup and she tilts her head. It’s awfully bland, just a green hoodie layered over a white t-shirt. It doesn’t look that different to how Tachihara dresses in his everyday life, from what she’s witnessed.
Tachihara shakes his head with a triumphant smile.
“I have one more thing!” He declares before pulling something out of his pocket. He then proceeds to put a single bandaid over his nose and looks at Teruko expectantly.
“...You can’t be serious-”
— — — —
“Tachihara.” The boss greets with a nod. His expression is pulled into a calm neutrality as he rests his elbows on his desk. Tachihara can tell the boss is appraising him, deciding where his talents would be best suited, but for some reason the feeling of the man’s eyes on him makes Tachihara incredibly uneasy. “I’m surprised that you didn’t run. Good on you, I suppose. You’ll need guts like that to survive in a ferocious world like this one.”
Tachihara can only nod stiffly in response. This guy reminds him just a bit of a scarier Jouno, the Jouno that criminals tend to see when Tecchou isn’t keeping him in line.
“Oh, come now, I won’t bite.” The older man responds in a teasing tone, tilting his head. The smile that crosses his face drives a shudder down Tachihara’s spine and has his heart hammering in his chest. That’s a smile that spells danger.
“Of course not, uh, Sir…” Tachihara stutters out with a nervous laugh. The borderline predatory look in the boss’s eyes only grows at the display and his gaze scans over the nervous teenager like he feeds on the fear.
Mori, the boss, turns to address an underling behind him, someone with even more attitude than Tachihara is supposed to have at this moment. Tachihara can’t bring himself to act anything other than respectful out of fear of being killed.
“Could you bring me the assassin boy? You know which one, the one that’s been put in Hirotsu’s care.”
The underling nods and disappears into the shadows, leaving Tachihara alone with the boss of the Port Mafia. Mori stands from his chair and Tachihara just about jumps, to which Mori just laughs and shakes his head. “You’ve got quite the nerves don’t you, Tachihara? There’s no need to be antsy, I can assure you I’m not quite as scary as I may seem.”
Tachihara has a fleeting thought of doubting that that he pushes from his mind. He can’t afford to disrespect this guy and get himself killed, not with the other Hunting Dogs counting on him. Any other internal monologues Tachihara could have are cut off by the sound of the door creaking open behind him, and out of fear Tachihara doesn’t dare look back.
“I brought him, boss. Hirotsu too.” The underling from before speaks up, returning to his position at the boss’s shoulder. Mori smiles something predatory and he thanks the underling before turning his attention to the two new characters within the room. Despite the fact that Mori specifically asked for the ‘assassin’ who was under Hirotsu’s care, he speaks to Hirotsu himself instead.
“Hirotsu, I apologize for springing this on you so quickly, but there’s another young one here who might need some guidance from the most senior member of the Port Mafia. Do you think you and your ward could show him the ropes, perhaps make him feel more acclimated to the space?” It’s obvious that this is not so much of a request as it is an order despite how it’s worded, even Tachihara can tell that much. He’s surprised to feel the atmosphere in the room doesn’t change, though.
Tachihara finally takes a moment to turn, only to see not an old man but a teenager. This must be the ward that Mori was referring to. The kid’s scruffy, even more so than Tachihara himself, with messy black hair and the meanest eyes Tachihara has ever seen on a teenager. A mask is pulled up to cover their face, which makes sense if their eyes are so expressive.
Tachihara eyes the mask with curiosity and before he knows it the teen is swinging on him, a knife gripped in thin fingers. The knife swing is stopped by another hand, considerably more… wrinkly?
“Gin, what did we say about stabbing strangers?” An older gentleman, with a kinder face and tired eyes asks the teenager, to which they huff and resheathe their blade. Tachihara can only stare in a mixture of confusion and fear, with a little bit of anger because why would that kid just swing a knife at him without reason?
The older gentleman, even older than the boss of the Mafia, turns to address Tachihara. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s a bit on the shy side.”
Tachihara looks at the man – Hirotsu, was it? – with confusion. Shy? In what world did stabbing a person for looking at them make a person shy? Tachihara opens his mouth to respond, but Mori interjects.
“Well, Hirotsu? Do you think you could assist this young one as well?” Mori gestures to Tachihara, referring to him like he’s some kind of animal that needs to be trained. Hirotsu eyes Tachihara, but it isn’t nearly as scary as when the boss was looking at him.
“I don’t think Gin would take very well to a stranger so close to the two of us. I was finally making progress in getting him to work well with others.”
“Well Gin will just have to get over that, won’t he?” Mori smiles in response, folding his hands on the desk and eyeing the other teenager. “To be a part of the Port Mafia is to be adaptable, able to change according to your circumstances and find ways to thrive no matter the situation. Consider this exposure therapy.”
It’s an order. Hirotsu concedes with a soft sigh, bowing his head to his boss.
“Of course, Sir. I will show this one around.” Hirotsu turns his attention to Tachihara with a harsher stare than before, yet somehow not as intimidating. Tachihara straightens to attention nonetheless. Damn military instincts. “Come, boy. Let’s talk somewhere more secluded.”
'Oh fuck, these people are actually going to kill me on my first day.'
Hirotsu and the teenager, Gin apparently, lead Tachihara down a long hallway away from the boss’s office. Hirotsu lights up a cigarette and Gin says nothing at all. Tachihara doesn’t say anything either, to be fair. He’s far too afraid of a bullet going through his forehead to speak out of turn.
It’s not a short walk, the maze of doors and endless hallways makes Tachihara dizzy. Everything looks so similar, it’s a wonder anyone is able to find anything around here.
They stop at a doorway, where Hirotsu spends much longer than necessary fiddling with his keys before finally opening the door. The room is a small, dimly-lit lounging room with cold stone floors that Tachihara can smell the mold in. Hirotsu beckons him inside of the room and Tachihara has no choice but to follow.
Tachihara makes sure to avoid the stabby teenager standing near the doorway, and the other two follow him in. The door closes and yet somehow the environment becomes a little more… relaxed.
“Make yourself at home.” Hirotsu gestures to the seats inside the room, arranged in a circle like some weird group Mafia therapy. Tachihara pretends not to notice them observing which seat in the room he takes, which is the one closest to the door with the rest of the room still in view. It’s a deliberate choice that Tachihara can see the two analyzing.
Hirotsu sits in the chair across from him, his back somehow perfectly straight and his hands folded in his lap. Gin, however, chooses to perch on a nearby set of drawers to watch the two of them.
“Mind if I smoke?” Hirotsu asks, already pulling the tin case of presumably cigarettes from his pocket. Tachihara shakes his head, gesturing for Hirotsu to feel free. “So, what’s your name?”
“Uh– Tachihara.” He responds, deflating in his seat a little bit. He fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie like it will help him feel more at ease. “You’re Hirotsu, right?”
Hirotsu hums in response as he pulls a cigarette out of the case and lights it up. Tachihara thanks whatever entity might be looking down on him when Hirotsu blows the smoke somewhere that isn’t directly in his face.
“I am. That’s Gin over there, but you don’t have to pay much attention to him. He won’t be bothering you, right Gin?” Hirotsu looks over to the other teen in the room with a look that could make Tachihara wither, but Gin holds strong to it and glares back. Hirotsu breathes in deeply and sighs. “You’ll have to excuse him. He doesn’t like strangers.”
Tachihara grumbles something about that being obvious under his breath, and Hirotsu doesn’t comment on it.
“So, boy, why the Mafia? Surely you have something better going for you. You don’t seem like the street rat type.” Hirotsu points out, his narrowed eyes scanning over Tachihara and silently dismantling his entire being.
Tachihara clears his throat, his practiced origin story on the tip of his tongue before he stops. He doesn’t need to tell these people his story, no matter how many bits of it have been fabricated or changed (if Tachihara were to tell the real story, he wouldn’t be able to make it through half without breaking down). It might come off as suspicious if he were to spill it all right away.
Instead, Tachihara crosses one of his legs over the other and crosses his arms, mimicking the poses he’s seen before that were demonstrated for him. Jouno personally went out of his way to teach Tachihara how to act even down to subtle body language. Despite Jouno being a harsh teacher and an even harsher critic, Tachihara learned a lot.
“Oh, y’know, we’ve all got our reasons.” It’s vague, but Tachihara is going with it. By the way Hirotsu lets out an amused chuckle, blowing smoke out into the air, Tachihara thinks he might’ve made a good decision.
“That we do, boy. That we do.”
Tachihara, being the lame bastard that he is, forces himself not to cheer at Hirotsu’s acceptance of his answer. He can feel the telltale twitching of his fingers and the rush that envelops his brain like a relief that he can’t quite describe. His expression remains passive, though.
Mafiosi don’t cheer when their persuasive words do their job, even if those mafiosi are only 15 years old.
“So, what about you, Gramps? You don’t look like the mafia type.”
Hirotsu raises an eyebrow in reply, holding some smoke in his lungs. “What, you think I’m too old for the Port Mafia?”
Tachihara chokes on air, any words in his throat sputtering off into coughs. Fuck. Fuck. Did he offend this guy? Tachihara didn’t really mean to insinuate this guy was too old for the Port Mafia – only that he was more refined than most of the mafia members he had seen so far. Tachihara can only rapidly shake his head and hope that this guy didn’t try to kill him for disrespect.
Hirotsu lets out a huffed laugh, smoke spilling from his lips. He shakes his head.
“You seem less fit for the mafia than I am. You’re practically shaking in your shoes.” Hirotsu says with a teasing smile before taking another long drag of his cigarette. Tachihara scowls in reply and looks away from the older gentleman, instead focusing on the other teenager in the room.
They haven’t said a word, only perching quietly on the set of drawers and glaring daggers into Tachihara’s skull. Tachihara is somewhat convinced that they would hiss at him if he tried to interact, so he leaves it alone.
A scrappy teenager and a terrifying old man. What a duo. However, it’s better that it’s them rather than someone who would kill Tachihara for speaking out of turn.