Freak ~Juuzou x Reader AU~

Chapter 4: Beneath Frozen Concrete

The sun is just beginning its descent, the soft brasses and pinks and purples sweeping across the cotton candy-soft clouds, whisking and blowing, the sky fading into a gentle blue when a knock comes upon my door.

I turn just as the door opens, revealing Randy, a wry smile bending his lips, his brunette locks tousled, a bouquet of colorful flowers - crazy daisies, I believe - in one hand. He closes the door and approaches, his voice soft as he speaks.

"I heard what happened. I'm glad to see you're in one piece." He passes me the flowers. "I figured you could use some color in your world right now. Is there a cup or picture we can put them in?"

I hold the flowers, making sure to be gentle, though the plastic wrap bunching them still crinkles. "I think there's a spare picture over by the window."

He looks and finds it, then goes to fill it with water. When he returns, we set the daisies in it, though we both know the water will only prolong the flowers' life for a couple of days. After all, once you pick or cut a flower, you've already killed it.

"There we go," he says, placing the picture back in the window. "That's better."

"Thank you."

He turns and looks at me, then approaches, claiming the seat that Juuzou and Mrs. Warner both sat in during their visits. He scans the room then meets my stare, that soft grin still on his expression.

"Sorry if I'm not the best conversationalist at the moment. I'm looking for the right thing to say because asking you how you feel feels wrong, all things considered."

He's observant and smart, I'll give him that. He's not wrong. That's all I've heard since I got here. 'How do you feel?' I hate that question because the truth is, I feel like shit. My body still aches and my throat is shot, but the stitches and bruises pale in comparison to the gaping hole in my chest.

That's what hurts the most.

"But I won't lie, it also feels wrong to...well, to say 'I'm sorry'," he continues. "Though, I am sorry. What you've been through...it's more than what any person should go through. It just seems like you've already heard that a lot."

He's not wrong. I have. I've heard it so many times that it's starting to make me sick.

I nod, "Yeah. I have."

He observes me, probably calculating what to say next. Then: "Y/N, I never knew that...that you have a child."

I fidget with my blanket, sucking my breath in. "Yeah. I...I never mentioned it before."

I haven't. I don't talk about my personal life at work. The way I see it, the Y/N inside and outside of the club are two different entities sharing the same face. One is a mom who spills coffee on her shirt and runs around with food in her hair sometimes. The other is a dancer who goes by Little Devil when she's on stage, giving the illusion of confidence and sex appeal. They are both me, but they are separate, their worlds very different.

He nods, "No, you haven't."

I feel as though he's wanting to say more. Maybe dig. Try to figure out why a single mother of a little girl would do the work I do, but I don't expect him to understand. Not if he's never sat up, listening to a wailing baby, trying to comfort her with no clue what to do, losing sleep. All the nights spent up, pacing back and forth with a screaming infant.

I don't expect him or anyone else to understand that stress. It's not something that most can fathom.

I inhale and breathe, "I didn't mention anything about her because I didn't want to cross the two."

He knits his brows. "Cross the two? What do you mean?"

"Stripping and being a mom. I've always wanted to keep those worlds separate." I tighten my hold on my blanket. "I...I didn't want Rui to see that side of me. So, at home, I was just her mom. At the club, I was just Little Devil. It was easier that way. It was...separate."

He observes me a bit longer. "Rui. Your daughter's name?"

I nod.

"I see. Well, Y/N, I understand why you never mentioned her. I get it. I'm not here to condemn that decision. It just...I was surprised when I learned your apartment was broken into by ghouls."

My throat goes dry.

The ghouls. It's been three days - the wounds are still fresh, but I hate how I can still hear their voices in my head. Deep, gruff grunts. One sharp and precise, the other more anxious and unsure. Both were equally dangerous.

The one who tried to snatch me up has been apprehended and is now being held in a secure location, undergoing questioning. The one who took Rui... Well, he still hasn't been located. Neither he or Rui have been found and each day it becomes more and more difficult to believe.

"I also found it shocking to learn you have a daughter," he continues. He looks me directly in the eyes. "Y/N, I can't do much. I can't even offer words of comfort or encouragement because I can't imagine the way you're feeling. But please if you need anything - anything at all - don't hesitate to reach out. I'll do what I can. Okay?"

Randy has always had this soft side to him that the guests don't get to see. When he's patrolling the floor, he comes off as this cold and hard man. One who can stand his own in a brawl, but there is another side to him. A side that us dancers get to see. One where he stands and listens to us. One where he pays attention.

Don't get me wrong. Randy isn't the kind of guy to be all warm and fuzzy or lovey-dovey. His expression is typically a complicated, calculated one that is difficult to read. But he cares. He really does. When Queenie's grandma passed away, he gave her a whole week off, plus sent her family a large bouquet of flowers. And when Stella's brother was deployed, he'd allow her to make phone calls to him in one of the private rooms, even hooking up his own personal laptop so the two could Zoom.

The point is, Randy may come across as this cold, distant man, but he is anything but that. And right now as I look into his eyes, I see something new. They don't appear calculated or programmed, but warm and inviting.

They have emotion.

I swallow my throat burning and try to flash a weak smile. "Thank you, Randy."

**Bello lovelies! Another 'eh' chapter with Randy now visiting. It seems Y/N has people who care about her and are worried. That's good. Well, that they care, not that they're worried. Kinda sucks to make people worry. In random news: I forgot to mention that I finished reading The Turn of the Key by Ruth Ware, and wow. That book gave me nothing to work with, so every turn was out of nowhere. But it was good. I've now just started reading her last book that I (currently) own, One by One. As of now, it's given some hints as to what'll happen, but only little snippets. I'm excited to see where it goes. Should be exciting. Well, that'll do for me today. Thank you oh, so freakin' much for everything! Y'all are awesome sauce! Wuv yous!! <3**

-Noel Ross