Chapter Text
Jouno had changed a lot throughout his 26 years on Earth.
There was Jouno who once had existed before he was blind - who would stumble and strain his neck as he tried to see every star in the night sky. A Jouno who would read a novel in less than an hour and would revel in the praise of knowing how much smarter he was than the rest of his school, brushing his bangs out of his face to show his parents his perfect smile. Missing teeth and not knowing that there was a war going on.
Then there was a Jouno after - who remembers learning for the first time just how loud the sound of a heart was, pumping blood through each chamber. The sound of blood being pushed through the vascular system, arteries and veins pressing against tissue with each pump. Knowing where someone was even when they thought they were safe - learning that he had become the best person to play hide and seek in the world after hearing someone from nearly two miles away stumble and fall when they tried to run away from him. How their breaths, no matter how quiet, couldn't stifle just how loud a human was when you knew how to listen. And by god, did Jouno know how to listen.
A Jouno would forever exist, changed when he had heard what a man sounded like after dying.
There was a Jouno before he had joined the hunting dogs. Someone who didn't care about the sheer amount of greed, using every conversation as nothing more than a way to gain more himself. A man on top of the world, because who could hide from him? Who could kill a man they couldn't even touch?
Then there was the Jouno now. He was the same - greedy, untouchable and he knew no one could hide from him. Although those might have been lies he would tell himself to go to sleep. To pretend that he wasn't a dog with clipped teeth.
He would never have become a Hunting Dog if he were untouchable, and if he were truly greedy he would have never allowed his teammates to even think he was something close to a man. He would never let Teruko touch him for a game of hide and seek, and he wouldn't let Tecchou stab him in the ass just because he decided to have a little fun when making disgusting men cry.
The Jouno now, compared to the past felt...softer, in a way. Still cruel, but he knew he had changed to become a little more human. It was a strange development to see from himself.
“Mr. Jouno? You're still on the line, right?”
A tired voice spoke to him, soft but with an edge to it. A social worker. Someone who knew something about him that somehow - he didn't even know about himself. An average run-of-the-mill government worker. A man with clipped teeth who had stripped him bare with words.
Jouno hadn't felt this naked and bare since he was arrested by Fukuchi, locked in a prison, and threatened to be burned alive to mere particles if he had used his ability - somehow, the man knew his greatest weakness and had used it against him. The thought still freaked him out to this day, despite having worked under him for well over six years. Knowing that he would kill him with his sword if he needed to, without a second thought. Like a dog shot between the eyes.
”Yes. Sorry, could you repeat that? You're telling me that I have a son?“
Denial was an easy emotion. It was too easy, really. How the hell could he have a son and not know about it? The government had known everything about him at this point, surely they would have told him about it by now if he really did have one.
”Yes. Asashi Koi. He's six years old and is currently sitting in my office. His mother put you down as the father, although I'm surprised you didn't know. He looks a lot like you from what I can see.“
The man spoke as if this was an average Tuesday - it was, with what Jouno knew to be a clear sky and no abnormal crimes happening today. It was a good morning to call a man and deliever him some absolutely Earth-shattering news -his ex-girlfriend from six years ago was dead and had left him with a son.
”I'm blind. I wouldn't know that.“ Jouno was surprised his voice was even. His body had started to feel cold, with his fingers so numb he didn't even register his phone in his hands. He had to force himself to unclench his jaw, feeling how he had begun to grind against his teeth.
”I know. Listen, I can send you an address, but he doesn't have any other option. He is your son.“
Jouno jolted in his chair, biting down a retort. He couldn't say anything, instead listening as the social worker started to slowly name off some location. What game was this man playing at? Jouno knew how guilt worked, and he hated how this man was pulling it on him at this moment.
Did he think he was a deadbeat who walked out?
He was silent as the man started speaking about parental rights and laws, foster care, and court dates - more rules and regulations that Jouno hadn't even thought about in his entire life until this morning. Jouno simply tuned him out, since really, was that important to think about right now?
He had a son. A six-year-old boy was out there right now, who was from his very flesh and blood.
It was only in the last few years that he realized he was a sentimental person. And this? Well, it really didn't help those thoughts. He was a dad now.
Jouno didn't think he would live long enough to even think a sentence like that into existence and not laugh about it.
Being a father out of the blue was definitely something to be sentimental about. It was a big change from who he was right now - single, alone, and certainly too much of an asshole to call himself 'parent material'
Was this really a good decision?
-
This was the best decision of his life.
Something Jouno could never admit was that he knew people's smells - not just the shampoo or perfume they used, but their personal smell. The pheromones they had, were unique ones that only came from certain people.
It changed with their emotions, with their health, and even with the foods they ate. But Jouno knew a person by their own smell, even when it was hidden from alcohol use or from whatever food combination they had eaten for lunch that day. Perfume did little to stop what was simply human nature, one that he was good at sniffing out.
But the child before him - he smelt a little bit like himself. It was hidden underneath the children's mango shampoo he had used this morning, alongside whatever cheap pre-made beef stew he had eaten last night. But he could still tell, there was a hidden scent of what he knew he smelt like on his own clothes - like old book pages and dew drops.
There was someone else, although regrettably, he might have forgotten who that woman was. It had been six years, and she hadn't even bothered to call him. Although, she hadn't known he had gotten a new job though, now did she?
”What color is your hair? It's white, right?“
Jouno wanted to confirm it. He knew, easily, deep down inside that this was his son. But he should ask him, right?
”Um. It's white. Like yours.” The kid had a soft voice, light and perfect for a boy his age. His fingers were thumbing along his rather thin shirt, and Jouno listened as his little thumbs scratched at loose threads.
“I just thought I'd check. So, you're Asashi, right?” Jouno knew how to handle kids. He had talked to hundreds before, in worse situations than this - societal collapse, famine, war. He knew that they were just people, no different than he was. Maybe a little stupid, but not the worst.
But this wasn't some stranger's child. This wasn't a kid with trauma that he would only speak to once as some iron-clad hero, who he could dump onto their family or some random charity. This was his kid. Who was dumped onto him, and also had trauma. He only had himself to rely on here. His son could live without a government job.
Maybe this was some form of karma for not being socially aware enough about how bad those situations really are. Or for probably having caused plenty of orphans himself with all his time on Earth.
“Who are you? Are you another social worker?”
“Did Mr. Ito not tell you? I'm your dad.“
Asashi growled at that, his tiny heart rate skyrocketing hearing that sentence. Jouno was not excited about this current development, although frankly, he wasn't really sure what to expect about any of this whatsoever. He had just met his son, and he didn't know anything about him.
“I don't have a dad.” His anger was thankfully quiet, not exploding into a tantrum like Jouno believed it would. He could feel it, but so far the kid stayed angry in a quiet way, holding off his growing rage by clenching his fists tighter in his shirt and clenching his teeth. The muscles in his jaw must have hurt by now, with the way they were biting down on his cheeks as if he wanted to tear them out.
“Everyone has a dad. I can tell you more about that when you're older, but for now, you just need to know that I'm yours. Which means that you'll probably live with me for a while.”
Jouno tried to play it cool - the kid just lost his mom and only family member it seemed, so meeting another one and suddenly moving in with them was actually completely normal and not something to freak out about. It's an everyday thing, actually. A very normal thing that everyone has experienced, actually, so don't be weird about it.
”Asashi, I know this is a hard and confusing time for you, but your dad is a good person. Why don't you go get your stuff while we have a quick chat?" Mr. Ito was calm, his voice having a weird sort of authority from his desk - whatever it was, it calmed Asashi down enough to stop the horrible sound of his teeth gnawing on one another.
He stomped away instead, still showing his anger to his crowd of all two people. Maybe Jouno was heartless, but he found that the paperwork he was being forced to sign was a much more important focus at the moment.
It should have been more - he knew his record was cleared of all charges, but there still should have been a searchable record of his arrest buried within his government files. Wouldn't that be suspicious? Is being a Hunting Dog good enough to just receive any child? What if he wanted to adopt?
"Mr. Ito, I feel like there should be more forms..."
"To be frank Mr. Jouno, I know you have a good job and I have nearly 200 children under my care. Unless you don't want him, I don't see a reason to hassle you. I am hassled well enough by the government."
Mr. Ito was typing on his computer, acting as if what he had said was standard. It more than likely was, knowing Jouno's own experience. Although being this blunt with someone wearing a sword seemed rather risky. Was he truly so self-assured that Jouno was harmless?
"What if I turned out to be a pedophile?" Jouno placed his elbows on the desk, trying to put his face as much as possible into the man's space. He doesn't care whether or not the man does a good job, Jouno felt the intense need to press his buttons. A sort of craving, like smoking a cigarette.
Mr. Ito simply scoffed, yanking the paper from underneath Jouno's elbows and humming as he read his signature. He had no problem filling in the rest of the information itself it seemed, anything to get Asashi out of his office and out of his endless stream of paperwork.
"If you're telling me that, then you aren't one. And if you were one, then I would tell your boss. The military can cover up plenty of scandals, but I don't think child-touching is one of them."
"You are very blunt, Mr. Ito. Does that come from working with children?"
Jouno felt a little presence near his chair, clutching a large backpack. His breaths were heavy, muffled by the canvas fabric of the bag. It was hard to tell if he had been running around or if he was still angry, trying to hide his face in some sort of childish tantrum.
"It comes from working with adults, actually." Mr. Ito stood up from his desk, his body and bones weighed by the poor life choices he had clearly made. He strutted over to where Jouno was sitting, kneeling down to Asashi's height.
"Take care of your dad. He seems like a lot of responsibility, but you'll actually really come to like him." His tone was completely different than the one he had with Jouno - a sort of gentleness as if he were handling a fragile piece of glass. Did his son look so fragile as to be treated like that?
The man handed Asashi a paper, patting his shoulder gently. Mr. Ito turned to Jouno as if he were six years old as well.
"I better not see you in my office ever again."
What a sendoff to fatherhood.