notes:
chapter tws: graphic description of injury, flashbacks to death and murder, allusion to torture and child abuse. stay safe!
i threw a rock off an overpass and killed a guy ; sign crushes motorist
October 1997
The slow rotation of a singular dusty fan casting shadows across the popcorned walls in the dim light of early morning greets Hirofumi the moment his eyes snap open.
Where was he? He was– he was–
"Darling," the man grins through stained teeth, right hand still grappling uselessly at the shattered glass on the floor beside him, other hand limp and bloody at his side. "I never thought Octopus would be a high schooler."
He's stalling for time, that much is clear, and Hirofumi shuts him up with a harsh slap to the face, the way Control used to do it. Backhanded, and just enough to leave little pinpricks of blood where fingernails dig into skin.
"Shit!" The guy howls, writhing away. It's useless; Hirofumi pins him down in an instant, twisting his arm around his back in a practiced motion. Something in his elbow pops and Hirofumi winces in sympathy, his own elbow stinging at the sound.
The man stills in his hold, cheek pressed against the grimy floor below, panting.
"What do you want?" Hirofumi asks, finally. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, he's left with a sense of bone-deep exhaustion. And his shin is throbbing horribly.
Silence.
"I said, what the fuck you want with me? How did you get the bottle?"
He refuses to talk, letting his head drop to the floor. He stops resisting, letting his arm fall limp in Hirofumi's hold. Bastard.
"Let's do this one more time," Hirofumi threatens, tugging his arm higher– despite the man's efforts not to let pain show, a wince slips through. "What. Do. You. Want. With. Me."
In a final move of desperation, the man jerks forward, bucking Hirofumi off his back, scrabbling for the pipe that lies several feet away. Hirofumi wretches backward, and the guy's arm dislocates with a sickening pop.
The guy howls with pain, curling in on himself, and Hirofumi can't help the way his stomach twists.
He hates this.
Still, he stands up and steps forward, placing a careful foot on the shin of the writhing guy on the floor. "Tell me about who you work for," he hisses.
"I'll tell you about yourself," the man gasps. "You know what they say about you where I work?"
It's a useless taunt. Hirofumi lifts his foot and stomps. Bone gives way with a sickening crack.
"C'mon," Hirofumi says and there's an edge of desperation creeping into his tone. He's always been bad at questioning– too long spent learning how to torture and not enough time spent learning how to get anything without torture. "Just tell me about–"
"They say you never kill, Octopus."
Hirofumi freezes.
He hesitates for only a moment, really. But a moment is a moment too long.
The man beneath him's face splits into a triumphant grin as the door behind them creaks open– the fucker called for backup.
Hirofumi should have shot him when he had the chance.
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shoot to miss
FanfictionDenji can't remember the last two years of his life. And that's okay. Because everything is fine: he has a kid sister that he loves, he has a whole apartment to himself, and for once in his life, he's surrounded by actual girls at school. And it's a...
