Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every mutter, cough, or shuffle takes the long way around to Jouno’s ears. Spacious floor combined with the high sloping ceiling make the noises bounce and recurve until they dwindle. He can form a perfect mental image of the area. Smooth tiles beneath, wooden furniture at which the crowd is seated, thick windows, painted concrete. A few steps and a short dais centered against the back wall. The Hunting Dogs stand in a line nearby, facing it.

As opposed to Tecchou’s calmness to his left, Tachihara’s pulse to his right is brisk, its focus anxiously flitting between the gathered military officers and the main attraction. The onlookers’ overlapping heartbeats and whispers that they believe go unnoticed are distracting, sure, but Jouno considers himself exceptional at filtering them out.

The main attraction.

Teruko’s heels click on the floor as she steps up to the dais, where a well-adorned governmental official stands. She salutes him. Her heart is steady. He returns the gesture, making his coat wrinkle and the pins brush against one another. The crowd stands, and they, too, salute.

“The new captain of the Hunting Dogs.” The official announces, serious and firm, “Teruko Okura.”

He shakes her hand, sealing this reality. Obligatory applause goes around. Jouno is sure that Tecchou is giving their new captain an approving smile to make up for the formality of the event.

“You will need to appoint a new vice captain.” The official says once the clapping is over. “Do you have one in mind?”

Her pulse quickens.

He adds, “If you must give more thought to the matter, then there’s no need to answer now.”

“N-no, sir.” She replies, a bit too softly, and clears her throat to embolden herself. “I have one in mind.”

Thump-thump-thump.

“Ah.” The official is pleasantly surprised. “And that would be…?”

A thick swallow, sticky mouth. “I would like to appoint Saigiku Jouno.”

Her chest is a drum. Jouno’s becomes the same. As do the other two Dogs. Being startled comes before being pleased by the development- he’d always considered himself the strongest, and the obvious candidate. The Jouno of two weeks ago would’ve scoffed because well, of course, who else but me?

But for some reason, at this moment, he’s surprised. Tecchou gives his shoulder a gentle nudge, which means he’s being beckoned up to the platform. He walks with as little stiffness as he can manage, hyperaware and careful not to trip or bump into anyone. He stops opposite of the official and Teruko, and salutes them.

They follow suit. Any words are lost on him, for once. It’s just the same thing as the announcement for Teruko. His mind is preoccupied.

Teruko cannot play both captain and vice, and Tachihara is too young, but Jouno and Tecchou are not.

I thought she would’ve appointed Tecchou.

The realization snakes around his ribcage like an anaconda.

Why?

Jouno knows why. Because a killing slash was parried by a supernatural blade, the space between a door was blocked, fire ate away at dust, the sword sprouted through flesh and bone several times at once, and fangs could dig in half as deep but twice as deadly.

Oh, he doesn’t need to ask himself.

The anaconda’s grip is unrelenting. Through it, and the phantom sensation of teeth in his shoulder, he remembers to smile until the meeting concludes.

—————

He awakens in the dead of night. The Hunting Dogs’ dormitory area is all but silent, as it should be, but there’s a slight disturbance in the form of outside movement and a nervous heartbeat that is certainly not dreaming.

Being sensitive, Jouno is both a light sleeper and the last to retire. Unless he’s feeling impatient or particularly exhausted, he usually waits until everyone’s pulses have steadied, their breathing evened out, before he feels calm enough to doze off. If they wake up again and aren’t quiet enough, there’s a good chance that he’ll wake up, too, but his teammates tend to be considerate enough to tiptoe and stay calm during any twilight activities. 

But whoever is awake right now is anxious. A fresh nightmare, maybe. He’d always pretend to be fast asleep in that case.

To be sure that there’s no intruder, he counts- one two three four, and the fourth is his own. Given the location of the other two, he figures out that Teruko is the night owl.

His arm is heavy, cottony, as it reaches for the clock on his bedside table. He misses once, his fingers meeting varnished wood rather than raised dots, then succeeds on the second try. The hands point to…2AM?

Jouno huffs. Only two and a half hours of sleep, and Teruko is already awake? That’s not uncommon, especially as of late. But she’s not in her room, which means she’s either so disturbed that she’s trying to walk it off, or she just has that much disregard for her sleep schedule-

He realizes that she’s not pacing anymore, having stilled. He maps out the dorms in his mind and recognizes the room she’s standing outside of.

This again.

The fifth dorm was cleaned out by the time they arrived back here, but Jouno could still detect traces of him. It still smelled like him. A little iron, sweat, and warmth that beckoned an automatic whisper of I know that one.  

(Most prevalent was the stench of the man’s favorite alcohol, the kind that burned. Jouno had foolishly taken to holding his breath whenever he walked by.)

Teruko’s heart begins to slow, finally, but now her lungs hitch and shiver.

She does this too much.

At least she never goes in.

Jouno sighs and rubs his weary face with hands that tingle from crooked positions. Lamenting the loss of sleep, he sits up and fumbles for the pair of earmuffs he keeps in his drawer for when he wants to be oblivious. He slips them over his head and is whisked into near-silence.

He lays back down, but knows that it’s unlikely that he will snag more than another two hours before having to rise again.

———

The next mission they receive is simple, a test of the waters of new leadership. All they have to do is apprehend a group of jewelry store robbers and recover the items stolen. The robbers aren’t gifted, but are supposedly armed with rifles and smoke bombs.

Regardless, something like this could be wrapped up by one Dog. But a job is a job, and Jouno supposes that it’ll allow for a taste of the team’s dynamic in the case that it’s changed.

“All six are in there,” Jouno confirms. He’s kneeling in front of the abandoned office building that the robbers have been tracked to. There are police cars waiting a couple streets down. They will take over once the Dogs end the fight.

From what he can tell- faintly screeching metal, scuttling rats, groaning wood- the building has not been maintained in years. The prime hiding place for runaway criminals. “They seem pretty proud of themselves. No clue that they’re about to get caught.”

“Positions?” Teruko asks tersely. Her sword is out, and her pulse is faster than the lawbreakers they’re chasing. He doesn’t think she has any reason to be nervous. She’s done well in the past as vice-captain when it came to delegating orders. The only difference now is that she isn’t a temporary stand-in for anyone, no, this is permanent, and Jouno is in her old role.

“All on the third floor,” he reports. “Two people are guarding the staircase, one person is asleep, and the rest are biding their time.”

“Anything else?”

He twirls his earring around his finger. The bell makes a pleasant jingle. “This place has got a rat problem.”

“That’s it?”

She’s uncertain, uncharacteristically hesitant, fishing for something. Or perhaps stalling.

He feels the irritation slip onto his expression. “I can’t detect the location of the stolen jewelry, but given how the group is clustered near the center of the floor, I’d bet that they’re surrounding the bag it’s all stored in.”

Her breathing is slightly uneven, tenser.

“Hoarders,” Tecchou remarks. He pipes up a little too quickly, so maybe Jouno’s impatience is manifesting sharper than expected. “At least it sounds like they’re making it easy. So, captain, what’s the plan?”

“R-right!” Her hair and clothes ruffle as she straightens herself. “Jouno, you can go into dust mode or whatever and enter through one of the third-story windows. Initiate the fight and catch them off guard. The rest of us will follow after you. Tecchou can use his sword to grapple upwards, while Tachihara can enter through the fire escape.”

“What about you, captain?” Tecchou asks.

Teruko hums proudly, making flappy gestures that Jouno cannot see. He hears Tachihara sigh, kneel, and allow the captain to clamber onto his shoulders.

“He’ll carry me,” she declares once she’s balanced.

“You can’t go up the stairs yourself?” Tachihara bemoans.

She whacks him lightly on the head. “Silence, servant! Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He knows the song and dance by now.

“Good! Now hurry up! Jouno, once we’re positioned, you do your thing. We’ll join when we hear the fight start.”

This was more like her. Childish bubbliness mixed with intensity and volume. None of that broody depression. Jouno dips his head. “Sure thing, captain.”

He keeps his focus on their locations. Nothing inside the building changes, aside from the buzz of insects and jittery rodents. The criminals are lazy. This is going to be a breeze.

Once Teruko and Tachihara have become level with the third floor, Jouno activates his ability and glides up, slipping in through a cracked window. The one sleeper and three conscious ones are still clustered together, and now that his particles are getting a feel for the area, he can tell that the group is sheltered behind a tall office cubicle. It’s unlikely that they can see the staircase from their positions.

He stops right behind the two stair guards and quietly returns to human form. Their pulses don’t spike, so their backs must be to him. The corners of his lips twitch upwards, tranquil, but superficial and delicate.

“See anything?” He inquires pleasantly.

They jump, rustle, but the belief that they are untouched causes their realizations to be delayed. One stammers out a “N-no, but-” before their hearts turn into thunder and they cry out in shock.

“Neither do I,” he purrs, then gives the closest guard a swinging kick to the face. No sooner has his foot connected than do the other Dogs noisily enter, and the room bursts into panic.

Jouno ducks to avoid a right hook and takes care of the second guard in a manner identical to the first. To their (very little) credit, the other criminals recover fast enough to pick up their guns and send several bullets into the air. A smoke bomb gets thrown and hisses as it spews thick clouds, though it makes no difference to Jouno.

Prompted by a person’s close proximity, he crouches and sweeps their legs out from under them. Someone rushes in and he nearly attacks them, too, before realizing it’s just Teruko- her heartbeat is as fast as that of the criminals, and the other Dogs aren’t having the same problem.

She knocks out the person he disoriented, and doesn’t sound quite pleased when she shouts, “You couldn’t have just taken care of it without jabbing?!”

“What do you mean?”

“Was the joke necessary?!”

He frowns in her direction, shifting sideways when a bullet whizzes by his ear. “What, am I not allowed to make it?”

“Ugh! No, nevermind!”

Her frustration is peaking again. He can’t yet fathom why.

Jouno does a brief count- it didn’t take the Dogs long at all to incapacitate the group. All but one have been knocked out already. Teruko has dashed away, deflecting shots with her sword, to deal with the last wannabe sniper who is trying to hide in the corner of the room.

“No- hey, duck!” Tachihara yells. A previously abandoned bullet is flying- it strikes the criminal in the hand, causing him to curse and drop his rifle.

Teruko’s heart skips a beat as she kicks the weapon out of reach, then pins the criminal down to handcuff him. “Hey, idiot!” She snaps at Tachihara, “I was already here, I had him! You could’ve taken my head off!”

“I’d already sent it when you…” Likely withering under a glare, he sighs. “Sorry, sorry.”

Tecchou is already dragging over the two guards and adding them to the pile of defeated criminals. “Either way, that was the last one. Quick and easy.”

Jouno cocks his head to the side, reminding himself of everyone’s positions as he makes his way over, sword drawn. The “sniper” is still awake, sick with fear, as his pulse throbs violently.

Jewels clink and jingle, muffled in a sack. Tecchou is holding it up. “Under the desk, huh? Not a very original hiding place.”

Jouno grins, taking his blade and pressing the tip into the conscious one’s chest, making him squirm. “This place may have a rat problem, but at least we were able to clear out a few of the vermin, hm?”

“Stop that,” says Teruko sharply, beating Tecchou to the reprimand. She’s never one to intervene on such a minor thing- if anything, she jumps at the chance to inflict torment- and this fact adds to Jouno’s confusion, which in turn vexes him further.

“It’s just a little pressure. No blood yet.” Nevertheless, he pulls away before she can take another breath to scold him with. Even though the fight is over, her chest is practically vibrating from tension.

“Hey, you.” Teruko directs her harshness towards the handcuffed criminal. “Answer truthfully- did you and your little friends sell off any of the jewelry?”

“Huh? I…no, we didn’t.” 

“If you’re lying to me-”

“He’s not,” Jouno says, though he’s loath to back up a lawbreaker.

Teruko stops, then scoffs. “Fine.” She turns away.

What an erratic heartbeat. She may as well be having mood swings, but Jouno is certain that isn’t the case, because even though she’s irregular he’d have sensed if her hormones were going haywire. Not knowing exactly what’s wrong is rubbing him the wrong way- like the anacondas in his bones.

Taking a few paces away for a semblance of privacy, her communicator clicks. “Station, this is Captain Okura. We have the suspects and stolen items secure. Everything went smoothly, no injuries on our side. You can enter and take over the case now.”

The officer she’s speaking to gives an affirmative. Tecchou is lugging the last robber over to the others when Teruko turns around, her device now off. She crosses her arms, then approaches and plucks the bag of jewelry out of his one-handed grasp. “Give me that. I don’t want it anywhere near the people who stole it in the first place.”

Tecchou pauses, just fleetingly, and his breath enters a strange pattern that indicates he’s concerned. Maybe a tad offended. He finishes positioning the criminal and dusts off his hands. Tachihara toes the ground uncomfortably.

“Hey,” Teruko says. Her grip on the bag is tight. “Are they all handcuffed? Make sure they’re all tied up, conscious or not. I don’t want them running off suddenly!”

Thump-thump-thump-thump.

Tecchou moves to work on cuffing one of the unconscious. Teruko flits over, swift as a hummingbird, the metal already clinking in her shaky hands. “Actually, it’s fine, I got it.”

“…okay. I can hold the bag, then.”

“No, no, that’s not a big deal, I got it.”

Speeding up, in the way it does during tunnel vision. Jouno can feel glances being stolen his way, as if he’s a thermometer measuring the heat of a temper. He stays quiet.

Teruko hurriedly finishes her task, then stands. “When the officers get here, I’ll give them the rundown of what happened. Should go pretty fast.”

“One of us could probably handle it.” Tecchou says, gently maneuvering to stand in front of her.

“Are the officers here yet?” Teruko inquires briskly.

Jouno realizes the question is being directed at him. He listens, and nods. “Coming upstairs now. Six of them, with the rest of the squad waiting by their cars.”

“Captain?” Tecchou prods.

She doesn’t hear him. “Ah, we ought to meet the group halfway, save some time.”

Their pulses compete in a meaningless race. Jouno is dizzy.

“Captain, we can-”

“No, actually, you know what?” She strides forth, brushing past him. “I’ll do it myself right now. That’s probably best-”

A heartstring snaps. Tecchou seizes her hand. “Teruko!”

She halts, whipping around, rage boiling. “What the heck do you think y-?!”

“Slow down! You can’t be doing everything solo.”

“Your stupid grip- let go of me, I have things to do!”

Tecchou leans forward- Jouno is sure that faithful worry is glimmering in the man’s eyes- and he pleads. “Come on, Teruko, after everything, don’t you trust us to help you? To handle it, too?”

She stops. Jouno cannot see what exactly happens. But the racing pulses, skipping in disbelief, and the lack of words- they tell him enough. Tecchou’s soul sinks into recognition.

“Oh,” he says softly, and releases her.

“No, w-wait.” Teruko stammers, astounded at her own silence. “No, I do, I do, really- that wasn’t- that’s not what I meant-”

“I know what you meant.”

“You don’t, you-”

“I understand, Teruko.” Tecchou is too sweet, too tender, too caring and yet he still lived. “Really.”

“I trust you,” she insists, wavering. “All of you.”

Tecchou sighs. “We do, too. I guess it’s just not the same now that Fukuchi is gone, and we’re all still getting used to that.”

…

Jouno is not weak. He does not think of the fifth room. The iron, the sweat, the warmth, the alcohol. He does not think of the lungs that spent sleepless nights struggling in front of it, never entering. He does not think of every moment before, where orders were performed out of loyalty and not just duty, when they could sit together and raise their cups.

And he does not think of the booming laugh that had no qualms with burning Jouno alive.

Get over yourself.

Jouno is not weak.

A growl is out of his throat before he realizes it, and he turns on his heel. “This is stupid. We’re done here. If you want to handle it alone, be my guest. I’m headed back.”

“Jouno-” Tecchou tries to start, his tone scolding and startled.

He pivots and becomes light as air upon the activation of Priceless Tears, whisking himself out the way he’d entered. He does not listen to any words yelled after him. The buildings fly by like bullets.

Teruko (and everyone else) adored that blasted man. Of course she would be hesitant to trust again. They’d all been tricked.

He feels like he is boiling, and hates himself for it. He only returns to human form when he slips into the dormitory, into his room, after which he furiously locks the door and snatches up his earmuffs, longing to feel nothing. He will hate himself for being so cowardly, but I am not weak, but Tecchou had tried to pry the claws out of raw wounds and only got them caught on the skin.

The others return an hour later. The vibrations of their footsteps travel through the ground. Jouno’s door is left undisturbed.

—————

When slumber takes him, it takes him harshly. Like sleep, like life, for he is in darkness, playing out the broken record of that scene between him and the (ex-)captain. But this time, by a miracle, there is no supernatural blade to parry, and Jouno’s killing blow connects.

Fukuchi is laughing, wetly, ordering another drink. Teruko sobs, Tachihara screams, and Tecchou is calling for him.

Blood sprays warm across his face. It smells and tastes like alcohol. When it pools at his feet, and his success at stopping the threat feels empty, Jouno is set aflame.

He wakes up shivering, freezing, and hot.

Chapter Text

There were a few times in her younger years when Teruko wondered what it was like to be blind.

She figured that it was just like having a cloth permanently tied over your eyes. Darkness, never able to be removed.

But after meeting Jouno, she got a slightly more personal taste of the experience from an outsider’s perspective.

Of course, he is far more meticulous and skilled than the average person, so he’s exceptional at listening, knowing, and pinpointing. She knows that there are very few people who have such strong senses like his, and thus, how he acts in that regard is not necessarily a universal reality.

She’s been respectful enough not to nag him about his condition, but years of working together led to little incidents or observations. In a way, these allowed her to learn about what being blind was like, and to adjust her approach accordingly.

If you venture into the common room in the dead of night, sleepy-eyed and aching for a midnight snack, Jouno might greet you in the dark before you can turn on the light. If he didn’t say hello, he would be sitting casually at the table, sipping tea. Teruko had experienced several heart attacks both ways before she’d gotten used to it.

The lamps or switches in his room are collecting dust like useless curios. He wouldn’t mind when someone entered and turned it on- but god forbid they’d forget to flick it off when they left, because he’d make a point of doing it himself. He hated wasting electricity when he didn’t even need it.

There are also settings on his phone (never on silent mode) that would read messages out loud to him. He doesn’t care much for receiving texts and highly prefers calls. Tecchou is something of a dedicated describer, and will talk to him about any attachments being sent to their personal group chat, or even about physical images like posters or photos. The two guys butt heads almost constantly, and Jouno never says thank you, but Teruko knows that he appreciates being clued in regarding what he can’t hear by himself.

She could keep listing in detail her observations- how Jouno would get overwhelmed sometimes and take a break by wearing earmuffs, how he’d tap his foot or snap his fingers to orient himself in a casual setting if needed, how you could never keep a secret from him, things like that- but the point is that Teruko really respected him for his capabilities. She had made an effort to understand, and he is wholly accepted as a team member, as he deserves to be. Often, she may even forget that he’s blind.

Never was there a time, though, where she truly wished she was like Jouno.

But on that dusky day, when the blade went through- when duty had to come before love- that moment was the only exception.

The spray going out and up, her grasp steady but torturous, tears blurring her sight as the sunset cast itself over the airport. The colors were so intense that she nearly mistook it for his blood, so hot that she can still remember how she felt his warmth for the final time. Elbow to back, sides brushing. His eyes locked onto her, twisting and softening just slightly. 

At that moment, she had wanted to never see again.

When he acknowledged her, struggling to speak around the blade in his chest, he was supposed to be a blazing light with a strident voice she so adored- “I’m so sorry, my Teruko.”

He said it, my Teruko, to her that was equivalent to my love, and oh, that selfish traitor, and her equally treacherous heart- she was his for all but a second, and it plagued her.

She had wanted to never hear again.

She had to stop letting emotion guide her, to finish the mission in the first place. As the man she loved died, Teruko resigned herself and stepped away to give him his privacy, chase away the onlooker, and give him his final moments with someone else. His or not, love or not, she couldn’t be at his side.

And she had wanted to never feel again.

It really, really isn’t fair. Teruko can still recall the tingle of Fukuzawa’s hand meeting her own shaking ones as she shoved the hilt of her sword into his grasp.

“You’re the one who killed him. That’s the story.”

Still is.

Teruko fears that Jouno can (or will) catch on. Out of the Hunting Dogs that remain, he’s most likely to figure it out. There’s no hiding secrets from him forever. 

Maybe it wouldn’t matter, because Fukuchi was the enemy, and he had lost, and thus had to die for the sake of the world. She doubts she’d even get in trouble for anything more than falsifying a report. The others may be disgruntled at first, but soon understand. The Hunting Dogs are dedicated slaves to society, the ultimate violence against injustice. Greater good and all that. 

Maybe it wouldn’t matter, because Fukuchi is still dead.

And right now, what matters most is that Teruko has made a very bad mistake.

———

That night, not for the first time by any means, she tosses and turns in bed. Sleep evades her persistently. It’s particularly bad because her eyes don’t even feel heavy at all.

“Come on, Teruko, after everything, don’t you trust us to help you? To handle it, too?”

Her mouth had betrayed her, unable to properly express itself. Because yes: she trusted them, cheered for them, wanted the best for them.

Seeing Tecchou’s wounds after his fight with Kenji made her forget to breathe. Learning that Tachihara- his eyes painfully cut out- and Jouno- whom she and Tecchou had been searching for, only to be too late- had sustained major injuries prior to becoming vampires nearly sent her into a panic. If the effect had been irreversible even after the Decay of Angels’ defeat- god, she doesn’t even want to think about it.

But she would have sung Fukuchi’s praises for eternity, were it not for the fact that he’d tricked and lied to them for years on end.

Reality is cruel. Knowing the truth doesn’t take away the heartbreak. The other Dogs knew and trusted him, too, so they have to be feeling similarly. Don’t they?

(She doesn’t love them. Does she? Ah, maybe, just not in the way she loved him.)

Tecchou’s fallen face is etched into memory like bloody sunsets. Tachihara had been silent and broody the whole time, but he walked with her back to the dorms, so he’d probably forgiven her almost as quickly as Tecchou did.

She thinks, too, of Jouno, and the expression he may not have even realized he had as he left them behind. The best way she could describe it was anger and turmoil, tinged with grief. Briefly overwhelmed by pain. He tries not to show it, but he’s upset about Fukuchi, just like the rest of them- he is just the least willing to admit it.

She glares at the clock on her nightstand. It ticks innocently, displaying the punishing time of 1:28AM.

Teruko decides to get up.

———

She regrets it almost immediately.

Any sense of tiredness is shaken off by her movement. Sighing, Teruko rubs her eyes and smooths down her nightgown, wondering if she just needs a change of setting to find relief. She sights herself in the mirror and scowls- her loose hair has suffered from her restlessness. It looks like a rat’s nest.

“-may have a rat problem, but at least we were able to clear out a few of the-”

Don’t think about it.

She shuts the door behind her and walks through the dark corridor, exhausted but not sleepy. Hugging her shoulders, she makes an effort to avoid Fukuchi’s old room, for fear of throwing herself down another spiral, or triggering nightmares somehow. The path from her location to the Dogs’ common room- which consists of a living room and a kitchenette- is a straight shot with only one turn at the end. By the time Teruko slinks into the common room, she feels peckish, and makes a beeline for the kitchenette. 

The air smells strongly of chamomile. She opens the fridge, wincing at the pale light inside, and removes a bag of chocolate squares that have a sticky note obnoxiously labeling them as hers. Beneath the writing is Tecchou’s handiwork: he had taken the time to meticulously glue on an array of paper dots and slices, forming Teruko’s name in tenji. Created for a certain someone, of course.

Whether he had done this out of spite, boredom, genuine thoughtfulness, or all of the above remains to be seen. It was impressive dedication either way.

She is blinking away the splotches in her vision caused by the fridge’s light as she plunks herself at the table, bag open. She tosses a few chocolates into her mouth. They’re cold and delicious, but her mood doesn’t improve much. She is still exhausted, and not falling asleep. She slumps onto the wooden surface, exhaling deeply through her nose. 

Clink.

Porcelain on porcelain. Fully awake yet again, Teruko lets out a yelp against her will and jolts upright. Her eyes have adjusted to the dark.

Jouno is sitting right across from her. A teacup rests in front of him.

Okay, she really regrets getting up now.

God, I should have just stayed in bed.

It feels like a brief, agonizing eternity that they are just silent together.

“That was loud,” he says at last. “But at least you didn’t disturb the other two.”

Teruko defiantly slides back into her seat, awkwardness condemned. This is the first time she’s heard or even seen him since the fiasco earlier- or, technically yesterday afternoon, since it’s past midnight now. “And what are you doing awake?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well, I asked first. Cough it up.”

Jouno snorts lightly. “I got tired of wearing the earmuffs and was hoping a hot drink would calm my nerves instead. You were looking for a midnight snack?”

With a huff, she pops another square onto her tongue, letting it melt. “Not at first, but I got hungry on the way here. Can’t sleep, so I was gonna try moving out here.”

“That’s a first.”

She frowns. “Come again?”

“I don’t usually deafen myself, so I can hear you getting up, you know. Normally you stay in your room or walk the halls until you get tired again.”

Teruko feels her skin prickle. Duh, of course he can hear her! She’d thought he would have been asleep on the occasions when she’d try to pace off her distress.

Wait, has he been hearing me cry and mumble and he just chose to NOT say anything?!

She doesn’t know which is worse: Jouno being fully aware of her vulnerable moments, or the scenario in which he tells the others all about it.

“That aside…” His continuation jars out of her thoughts. “There’s some chamomile leftover if you want some.”

Teruko peers at him. Jouno’s face is angled slightly away from her, which is off because he almost always fakes eye contact and he knows exactly where she is right now. His features are pressed into a troubled look. A pinky runs hesitantly along the rim of his cup.

He’s…embarrassed? Ashamed, even? Is he being bothered by the same thing she is?

Yes, Teruko is upset about the way he reacted to that situation. But she’s mostly angry at herself for having such a stupid response to Tecchou’s sincere question in the first place.

“It’s fine.” She says out loud, then taps her bag. “This is my anger-reliever, anyways.”

Jouno tilts his head slightly. “Huh. Alright…”

Quiet, again. Their breaths overlap, not quite steady but not panicked either.

Teruko has so much to say. Apologies, inquiries, reassurances…but her pride and her own cowardice lock her jaw tight, so instead of presenting all the things she fights in her head, she slides a chocolate over to his free hand that sits lazily on the counter.

If he were a real dog, his ears would be swiveling at the noise. With slow caution, he accepts the offering and brings it up to his mouth to nibble on. No words exchanged. Good- she doubts her stupid mouth would have relented anyways.

Teruko watches the clock idly, inhaling the aroma of cacao and tea. It’s nearly 2AM when she leaves the table in favor of the couch, laying on her side and facing the headboard. She moves into the most comfortable position she can manage and closes her eyes to welcome rest that does not come.

Jouno stands after several minutes. He moves around, cleaning up his drink and even putting the chocolate bag- which Teruko had carelessly abandoned on the table- back in the fridge. She waits for him to leave.

He doesn’t. He rounds the couch and kneels. Her back is to him. He gently takes her tangled hair and strokes it, once, in an effort to get the kinks out.

Teruko is startled. She tenses against her will, making him give pause as he undoubtedly hears her pulse spike. She rarely lets anyone touch her like that- the last time this had happened, the Hunting Dogs were all hungover from a drinking session, and Tecchou chose to braid everyone’s hair to keep it out of their faces in case they threw up. She had been too sick to protest.

…Teruko chooses not to not move. For what it’s worth, she pretends to be asleep, though the act fools nobody.

After a moment of deliberation, Jouno returns to the task he’d assigned himself. His hands run down her scalp, rhythmically, stopping at the knots and gripping the upper locks to prevent himself from pulling. Teruko relaxes. She can’t see him, but she wonders what face he is making right now.

She trusts that it doesn’t matter enough to ruin the moment by flipping onto her other side.

She isn’t sure how long it takes, but it is a blissful stretch of time. Finally, her eyes are heavy. Jouno combs through her hair one last time before smoothing it down. He pulls away. She hears ruffling cloth, and then a warm and heavy weight covers her- he’d taken a quilt off of the sofa chair.

Only then does he leave.

The words “thank you” and “sorry” rarely come out of Jouno’s mouth, and when they do, they drip with sarcasm or dismissiveness. He shows gratitude or regret in alternate ways.

In that moment, Teruko muses as dreamless slumber overtakes her, it was nice to be blind.

Chapter Text

Tecchou walks into the common room, still groggy, and upon rounding the corner he is given half a second of warning before his shoulders are grabbed. 

“Hey,” hisses Tachihara in lieu of a greeting. 

Tecchou’s fist drops. He chooses not to mention that he had nearly clocked the boy in the face. “What-”

“Shhh!” The hands go from his shoulders to his mouth. Tachihara jerks his head towards the couch, urgent and nervous. “Look,” he whispers.

Tecchou slowly cranes his neck to look. The source of the boy’s anxiety: an autumn-patterned quilt covering a body topped with familiar magenta hair.

“Oh.” He says.

“Oh, no kidding, Sherlock!” Tachihara crosses his arms. “How am I gonna have breakfast without waking her up?!”

“Start by being quieter.” Tecchou replies, but his suggestion doesn’t seem to be received with much appreciation.

“I don’t wanna disturb her. She’ll kill me- what’s she even doing out here?”

“Maybe she got tired of her room.” He tilts his head, taking note of the way her hair draped over the couch’s edge, smooth and neat as if she’d had it groomed in her sleep. “Haven’t you done that before?”

“Moved out to get sleep? Well, yeah, but…”

“Didn’t think the captain would do it, too?”

Tachihara sighs. “Guess not.”

“How long have you been up?”

“I dunno, like…” His eyes dart towards the clock. “Fifteen minutes.”

“You were standing here for that long?”

“I-I said I don’t wanna wake her! She looks…good, I guess? Better?”

Tecchou carefully walks closer. Indeed, though the captain’s face is partially tucked under the quilt, her expression is relaxed, absent of the baggy eyes that come from nightmares or distress. Her chest rises and falls steadily. 

A smile inches onto his face. He retreats to the kitchen, checking the fridge. The second shelf has a tupperware filled with leftover rice, which he gladly takes out.

“Get some bowls out or something while I warm this,” he tells Tachihara.

A cursory glance at the couch. “But-”

“She’s fast asleep. You aren’t walking on glass- as long as you’re careful, some morning noise isn’t gonna wake her.”

With any worries mostly laid to rest, the pair gets about making breakfast. Tecchou sticks the rice in the microwave for a couple minutes, making sure to stop it before it beeps. Tachihara takes out bowls, chopsticks, and furikake for both of them. He then removes the egg carton from the fridge. Teruko does not stir.

The rice container is left open on the table, now hot and available for scooping. Tecchou is deciding what he wants to top his with- sugar, raw egg, or hard-boiled egg are the main contenders- when Jouno, in the middle of a yawn, enters.

The man hadn’t left his room or spoken to them since yesterday. He’d seemed pretty upset, especially after Tecchou brought up Fukuchi. They’d left him alone since then, but Jouno was fully capable of holding a nasty grudge, even over minor offenses like that. Tecchou watches him and tries to gauge the mood. At the very least, he seems rested and isn’t scowling.

Tachihara, who had been blowing on a yolk-covered bite of rice, stops and almost seems to be holding his breath.

Jouno turns his face their way as he opens a cupboard, feeling around for the coffee grounds. He takes the bag out and huffs in their direction. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

Tecchou immediately feels bad for not having offered any sort of verbal acknowledgment. “Good morning.”

(Tachihara decides to eat instead of reply.)

Drumming the table idly, he tries to fill the silence. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not bad, actually.” A pause as he starts up the coffee machine. The aroma permeates the air. “And you?”

Tecchou perks up. Engagement was a great sign. “I slept like a rock.”

“Ha, like the rock that makes up your brain?”

Insults. Also good. “More like the rock that’ll be going right into your forehead.”

“I dare you.”

Tecchou taps the sheath of his sword. “On second thought, my weapon’s right here. That’s more effective than a rock.”

“And more annoying. Try it and I’ll slice your hands off.”

“I actually didn’t sleep that well,” Tachihara grumbles to himself.

Tecchou chuckles. Looks like Jouno has mostly moved on from yesterday’s events, which is a relief. Though he does worry what’ll happen when-

“Ughhhhhhh.” Teruko groans suddenly, kicking the quilt off of herself. “Hold it with the threats, I’m only half-awake to watch you fight.”

…when the captain wakes up.

“Uh-oh. Did we wake you?” Tachihara frets.

“Nah. I smelled the food and coffee, but now that there’s banter going on, I’m fully up.” Teruko gets to her feet, stretching. Unlike the others who had gotten into uniform upon awakening, she’s dressed in nothing but a rumpled green nightgown.

Tachihara coughs and is suddenly very interested in his chopsticks. Tecchou respectfully averts his eyes. Jouno snickers since he has no such problem.

Teruko seems to realize what’s happening and lets out a noise that is somewhere between indignation and embarrassment. She turns on her heel, muttering, “Be back in a minute.”

“Sounds like you slept well, captain.” Jouno calls after her, to the others’ surprise.

“I did.” She grumbles while rounding the corner. “Now make yourself useful and pour me some coffee, I’ll need it!”

He shrugs and gets out two mugs: one for him, and one for her.

…Okay. They’re acting normal and not mad at all. Did they have a talk when no one else was looking?

Tecchou decides to top his rice with a hard-boiled egg. It’s a given that he leaves the shell on. Jouno slowly turns his way. His face does its usual habit where it knits and scrunches up, frowning tightly, in an effort to glare without eyes.

It’s cute. Tecchou takes a bite, making sure it crunches obnoxiously.

Jouno scoffs and doesn’t dignify him with a comment. He soon after takes out a third mug and fills it with the last of the coffee, handing it to Tachihara, who had been slumping over his bowl.

They sit at the table and eat together. Teruko joins them after she gets into uniform, making her usual childish demands and energetic gestures. She sits right next to Jouno, across from Tecchou and Tachihara.

Whatever happened must have been good, he figures, and decides they can talk about it as a team later.

———

It’s a slow, peaceful day. The morning is spent lazing around until Teruko drags everyone out to join her shopping at a mall she’s been dying to return to. She does the majority of the spending- though Tachihara surreptitiously purchases a black cat pin, the reason for which Tecchou cannot place even with Jouno’s skeptically raised eyebrow as an indicator.

Come lunch, they take a break at one of the cafes located inside. Everyone gets a snack and drinks.

“You’re disgusting,” Jouno tells him outright.

“You’re a coward,” Tecchou replies as he finishes pouring soy sauce into his coffee. “I didn’t get to have it last time.”

“Rightfully so.”

He shrugs and takes a sip. Nodding, he waves the soy sauce bottle towards the others. “Pretty good. Want some?”

They make faces and shake their heads. Jouno says, “I’ll slit your throat.”

“A no would have sufficed.”

“Oh, please, you don’t know how to take no for an answer-”

Teruko squeals suddenly, jumping up and pointing out the window. “Ohmigosh, look! Look at that!”

Following her gaze, Tecchou sees a clothing store across the way. A sign posted outside announces that they’re having a buy-one-get-one free deal for some of their shirts. “A clothing sale, huh?”

“I’m gonna go check it out- Tachihara, come on!”

“What?” The boy squawks, “Already? I’m still drinking my-”

“Drink it later! You have to help me carry what I’m gonna buy! Hurry up, hurry up!”

Forcing him to abandon his coffee and pastry, Teruko drags Tachihara away. Tecchou watches them go sympathetically, then turns back to the refreshments, taking a generous swig of his drink.

A deep sigh.

Oh, right, Jouno is here, too.

The two of them are quiet. Tecchou glances around, pinning his attention to a light fixture on the ceiling above the bar area. It flickers occasionally, every ten seconds or so, and is the only one to do so. Dead bugs freckle the inner glass.

“One of the lights needs fixing,” is what he offers as a conversation starter.

Jouno accepts with a groan. “I can hear it, and it’s so annoying. Every ten seconds, right when I think it’s gonna stop- it makes noise. They should either turn it off or get it fixed.”

He snorts, biting into the lemon scone he’d gotten for himself. “What else do you hear?”

“Patron conversation. Nothing particularly interesting there. There’s also boiling water, ice, drinks pouring, utensils clicking, and paper bags getting crumpled. That’s normal for a cafe.” Flicker. “Except for that godforsaken buzz.”

Tecchou snorts, amused against his will. “Hard to ignore, huh?”

“It’s like a dripping machine for my ears,” he complains.

“Hm.” Tecchou looks out the window. Tachihara and Teruko have long disappeared into the store across the way. Now is as good a time as any to talk, he supposes. “Did something happen last night?”

Jouno stills with his cup halfway to his mouth.

“I figured you talked with the captain about what happened yesterday. Since you seemed normal with each other this morning.”

The cup is lowered, thirst forgotten, bordering on defensive. “I did. You and Tachihara were asleep. Why point it out now?”

Tecchou shakes his head. “I don’t think I apologized.”

Jouno shifts back slightly, brows twitching upwards in surprise. “Oh?”

“For…escalating the situation, I guess. You got upset after I brought up Fukuchi.” A twitch of the shoulders- yup, the topic definitely continues to be a sore spot. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there when you two fought, and we couldn’t stop…what happened…from happening.”

Jouno’s face angles away. He does that when embarrassed, or thoughtful, or conflicted, or when experiencing any strong emotion that compels him to stop facing a presence head-on. “Don’t.”

“Don’t talk about it?”

“Don’t apologize. You sound pathetic. I hate it.”

Tecchou is sorry, though. He doesn’t know the extent to which Jouno is aware of how worried he was back then- worried enough to break his own code, act irrationally, and be a wretched excuse for a Hunting Dog. Because all he’d known then was that his teammate was missing, and regardless of how much they clashed, Tecchou would have gladly traded places to keep his fellow Dogs alive. He isn’t even sure when he started to care so much.

To the point where he’d wanted to die, if only for a minute.

Words are difficult. Maybe this is how Teruko had felt.

So instead he sits back and says softly, “Okay.”

Jouno stews in silence, keeping his fingers around the warmth of his drink. Finally, he lets out a deep sigh and leans forward, facing him again, one hand going to his hip while the other rests on the table to point. “Listen, I am not going to say this to you again, because I don’t like you, but I need to say it anyway or else I’ll look like a jerk. I shouldn’t have run off yesterday. That was stupid, that was weak, I overreacted, and I hate myself for it. So, there you go.”

Tecchou blinks, straightening slightly. Those are the most genuine, apology-adjacent words to have come from Jouno in a long while. “Oh.”

“This is the only time you’ll hear it from me, understand? Bring it up again and you’re dead.”

“Sure.” He relaxes and dares to smile. “But you can talk to us about anything, you know.”

An indignant sputter. “What, is this your attempt to make me act all touchy-feely like you? Hard pass! Jeez, I give you an inch and you take a mile-”

“Okay, okay.” Tecchou raises his hands placatingly. “It was just a proposition. But at least let Tachihara know.”

“What, can’t you tell him?”

“I can tell him anything. It’s better if he hears it from your own mouth.”

“For god’s sake.” He grumbles, taking his elbow off the table. “Fine, whatever, I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank you,” Tecchou says.

“I hope you choke on your abomination of a drink,” is the oh-so-kind response.

He shrugs and takes another sip. The light flickers- he’d nearly forgotten about it. Jouno twitches again, likely having made the same mistake. 

Tecchou distracts him. “Did you know we were worried about you and Tachihara, even after you both were found?” Undead goes unspoken.

After a second, Jouno takes the bait again. “I could hear your heartbeats after I woke up.”

“And?”

“You and the captain should’ve been working, not slacking off next to our beds.”

Tecchou tries to keep a steady gaze, but the recollection of bright and unflickering hospital lights threaten to choke him. “We nearly lost half our team in one day. A little reassurance was in order. Call us fools if you want, but after seeing you and Tachihara like that- god, can you even imagine how Teruko and I felt?”

The fixture buzzes again.

“…I don’t have to.” Jouno replies, uncharacteristically soft despite the words that he may have intended to be harsh. “You weaklings cry in your sleep.”

You did, too, the night after you were cured.

Tecchou does not say that. Instead, he rests his chin on his hand. “My point still stands. We’re going through the motions now that everything is starting to settle. Things have changed. You’re vice-captain, now. And the empty space takes getting used to.”

“It doesn’t matter. The only person who misses him is Teruko.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“Hmph. I don’t miss him, I despise him.”

“You can feel both. I know I do, sometimes.”

Jouno’s fingers tremble despite being curled around his coffee. “Just shut up.”

Tecchou will not pity him, for he would loathe being pitied. But he watches the incurable shiver that has overtaken his friend, and doubts that the night after being cured was the only time slumber made him cry. He wants to reach out and chase away the cold, as he did in the hospital to assure himself that they were alive.

The light flickers loudly. He sees Jouno bite his tongue and swear under his breath.

Tecchou finishes off his scone. “We can grab our stuff and wait outside.”

“…fine.”

A full and uninhibited discussion can come another day, hopefully when the sore spot has healed a little more. For now, Tecchou is satisfied with having laid the groundwork.

Chapter Text

Tachihara lags behind the others without really meaning to. He is a bit disconcerted from the surprise trip that Teruko dragged him on, but what’s really eating up his attention is the lack of sleep. The coffee from breakfast and lunch helped. Now, though, it’s starting to crash down on him. His eyes are heavy.

It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize that the vice-captain is walking next to him.

Tachihara flinches, doing a double take. Jouno turns slightly towards him, a calm look on his face.

“A- ahem.” The boy clears his throat. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“No.”

He feels himself turning red and hates it. “Jeez, I’m spacing out.”

“This morning you said you didn’t sleep well last night, so I suppose that isn’t unsurprising.”

Tachihara blinks. “I did?”

“Yes.” Jouno tilts his head in the direction where Tecchou and Teruko are walking out of earshot. “Don’t remember that either, hm?”

“Ugh…” He decides to change the subject. “Why are you talking to me?”

Jouno sighs. “Because according to the imbecile over there, you need to hear me talk about yesterday.”

Now there’s a real surprise. Tachihara’s mind flicks to the incident, the office building, tension reaching a peak and snapping patience. “Tecchou put you up to this?”

“Why do you have to say it like that?” The vice-captain grumbles. “Now it sounds like I’m taking orders from him. Whatever. Anyways, we were talking while you and Teruko were in the shop, and now I have to tell you about it. So-”

“No, it’s fine.” He says quickly, “You don’t have to.”

Jouno pauses, regarding him inquisitively. “Come again?”

“You got all huffy and dusty ‘cause of…the ex-captain. And Teruko having trust issues or something. Right?”

“…You could put it that way, yes.”

Tachihara stuffs his hand in his pockets. “I get it. I would’ve done the same if I had a quick getaway like you.”

Jouno keeps pace, but infinitesimally slower. “It was still a bit pathetic.”

“Maybe, but I’ll tell you what’s pathetic, vice-captain.” He rubs his eyes wearily. “Having nightmares over it like a wimp.”

Pain across the nose, unnatural warmth seeping from his face, utter darkness and fear and consciousness trapped in a puppeteered body. Vampirism was a living nightmare, and he would prefer not having to relive it in slumber.

“…Ah.” Jouno says, “That’s why you’re tired.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Well. We’re both a little pathetic, then.”

Tachihara takes the implication and mulls it over in his head. His chest burns- even after yesterday’s outburst, he hadn’t even considered that the only other Dog to have gone through the same thing as him would be experiencing similar aftereffects, vice-captain or not. 

Childish curiosity wells up in him. He is tempted to ask, to place bait and wait for a tug on the line. You were bitten, too, mixes with we both fought him and what was your battle like and we failed. Thinking, on the tip of his tongue, about Amenogozen’s slice going clean through his eyes, the dark was horrifying, it was torture, I would rather have died, how do you live with it constantly?

(And do you ever want to die?)

Instead he says, “Maybe just a little, but I think we have an excuse, because being undead wasn’t fun, huh?”

Jouno frowns. “I don’t even remember most of it.”

“Neither do I.” But that’s because I couldn’t see most of it anyways. “What do you remember?”

He gives pause. Tachihara decided to go first, “It’s just sensations for me, not really what I did. I remember being confused, then I tried to fight it, but that was useless- like, uh, being stuck in sleep paralysis. My wounds were crazy sore. Eventually I heard crying, my name being called, and that nullifier touching me. Then I woke up in the hospital.”

With a slow nod, Jouno fiddled with his earring, producing a gentle tink. “Sleep paralysis, huh…that’s a sufficient analogy. I…smelled blood, smoke, and fear. Brushed shoulders suddenly with other vampires once or twice, which usually startled me, because they don’t have heartbeats or warmth- so most of the time I couldn’t tell that they’re there unless they were making a ruckus.”

“We didn’t have heartbeats? I guess that makes sense.”

“They started back up again after we were released.” He says, more to himself.

Tachihara knows. Being turned undead prior to actually dying produced a strange effect- the body “froze” its processes, which meant that wounds would neither heal nor deteriorate. Upon reversal, they were essentially in the same state they were in before getting bitten. So the victims could still be treated so long as they weren’t dead beforehand, with little to no exceptions. That had been the case for himself and Jouno. He hasn’t realized there were no heartbeats, though.

His hands ghost over his own face again. The eyes are tender, sensitive from the nightmares as they keep a mental souvenir of the experience. The pale discoloration of the lids are so slight that it practically isn’t there. He’ll never forget what the hospital staff tried and failed to say out of earshot.

“The blindness will be permanent. There’s no way he’ll recover all of his vision, if any, by himself.”

His head had not taken those words well, becoming swarmed with cotton and static. Then- then he’d been rendered unconscious, and when he reawakened, he was staring at a dimmed ceiling with shaders over his face, a cold ache in both his newly-healed eyes, and the remnants of a slit across the throat being mended by gossamer butterflies. The staff had been right about one thing. He couldn’t have recovered by himself.

The agency doctor had leaned over him, smiling emptily. A handkerchief stained with his blood was tucked into her chest pocket.

“Good afternoon,” she had purred. “You seem well.”

It was the agency’s final unconditional favor towards the Hunting Dogs: putting him back together. He was (and still is) unspeakably relieved to be pulled out of the dark. The same couldn’t be said for Jouno, though- his blindness was a condition, not an inflicted injury, and Thou Shalt Not Die was not able to alter something that the body perceived as its natural state.

“If that ability could fix deterioration-” Jouno had replied to such a query with acid on his tongue, “-then the elderly would be made young again. It's a revival, not a fountain of youth. If you want the latter, well, then that’s what Teruko is for.”

“I’ve never turned you into a kid, now that I think about it.” Teruko joked, though she’d been hoarse from tears and grief. “I bet you were cute- oh, but not as cute as me, of course~! You wanna test it out?”

“Even if I wasn’t in a hospital bed right now, my answer would be a definite no.”

Tachihara blinks rapidly, cursing his wandering mind. His hands are in his pockets, running over smooth enamel that warms quickly in his grasp. “Sorry, did you say something just now, Jouno?”

“Not really.”

“God, I need some sleep.”

Jouno hums, hands folded neatly behind his back. “Troubling, isn’t it?”

“…Yeah. I wish the whole ordeal would just leave us alone by now, but that’s not how this works, as annoying as that is.”

A period of silence settles between them. Teruko and Tecchou have clearly noticed the conversation, but remain firmly ahead so as to give them privacy. Tachihara’s head throbs lightly.

“You told us a little about how you went down,” he dares to venture. “Amenogozen was utter bull, wasn’t it?”

Jouno barks a laugh. “Don’t even start.”

“He lured me right into a trap with that future-self communicating with past-self nonsense.” He adds, bitterly, “I could've won that fight. Should have just stabbed him and been done with it instead of demanding answers.”

“That’s what I did, and it didn’t work because the stupid blade went back in time to block me.”

“Oh, right, you did say that.” Tachihara massages the bridge of his nose. “Stupidly overpowered.”

“We both could’ve won.” He mutters.

“Yeah, but for you it was ‘cause he blocked the door off so you couldn’t get out, right? I actually had my shrapnel in his veins.”

“And I was dust, so I thought nothing could hurt me, but here we are.”

He decides to try his luck. “Yeah, your ability…Were you just forced to deactivate it after a while?”

Unlike his own detailed description of how he failed, Jouno’s account of his personal fight with Fukuchi had been simultaneously concise and spotty. Tachihara reviewed every last second in pursuit of understanding just how wrong things went, and he had no trouble telling the others about it. 

Tecchou did perform several “check-ups” to make sure he was in a right state of mind after learning that he tried to kill himself to avoid becoming a vampire, but Tachihara didn’t really mind those. The worst part was having to talk about the removal of his sight, but no one was pushy when the subject came up. 

As for Jouno, he gave more of a thirty-second summary. When probed, he replied with clipped tension, clearly loath to speak of it any longer. His details were sufficient for a report, though- he just did not want to dive any deeper. Blindness (and having a taste of what it’s like) aside, Tachihara respects him for barely even hesitating to kill Fukuchi, even if said effort was stopped by the cheat code that was the Amenogozen.

He had wondered, though, what the specifics were.

“After the door was blocked off, I was trapped in the room. He…he caught me off guard, and that’s how I ended up getting stabbed by Amenogozen, then bitten.”

Just like before, Jouno bristles. “Yes,” he replies tersely. “I was forced to.”

Tachihara is curious, and knows the others have been curious too, because they are all aware that Jouno has no time limit on his ability, and in a situation without escape routes he wouldn’t have dared to have exposed himself no matter how long it took. But the fact that he was both bitten and stabbed (several times in different places) by the space-time sword- it meant that he had de-transformed. Maybe he had been so startled that he went back into human form. Maybe with no other way out, he tried to fight Fukuchi again.

Most likely there was an important detail that he was hiding.

But Tachihara found silent teachers in his experiences: the sensitivity of his sleep’s quality, Jouno’s defiance, the dark circles under Tecchou’s eyes, Teruko screaming at him to leave a room just so he couldn’t see her cry even though all he wanted to do was console her.

Teachers indeed. If there’s anything he’s learned, it’s that he should wait until the wound isn’t as raw. Acceptance comes more readily then.

He nods, conceding. “Right, right. Well, thanks for talking to me, I guess. It’s sort of nice to know that you feel similarly to me.”

“…Sure.”

Tachihara accidentally glances sideways and stares right into a light fixture. The headache that had been looming the whole day pulses angrily.

He hisses, “Ow. Ugh, I don’t think I’m gonna be sleeping well tonight.”

“Hm. Maybe you’ll feel better when you give that pin to its intended recipient.”

His face heats up. He may be an exceptional spy, but subtlety in this area is really not his strong suit. “Uh…that’s…”

Jouno smirks humorlessly. “As long as you don’t turn out like him, Teruko doesn’t mind. Nor does Tecchou. Since they don’t mind, I personally don’t care much.”

Tachihara isn’t sure how to respond. Nowadays he does not truly feel either Black Lizard or Hunting Dog, and he wishes he didn’t have to say he was one or the other. He considers himself loyal to the people involved, but not to the faction. Caring for both sides was difficult.

(If only because the wounds were still fresh, still throbbing, still sensitive to the light- he would choose to stay here.)

“I would never betray you,” he says at last, quietly.

Jouno deems him truthful and leaves it at that. The pin stays warm despite the clamminess of Tachihara’s hands.