#shou vc UNO REVERSE.

[espectres]

' you should stop getting into trouble like this. ' satoshi says it with the hush of someone imploring mercy. upon themselves, upon the other, well-hidden frustrations mingling with an exasperated fatigue. he recognizes, perhaps, the name suzuki toichiro better than he does suzuki shou, in bureaucracy files and brazen public declarations, both equal strangers at a personal level. the names and reputations of sons followed their fathers and it's why satoshi too was a hiwatari before a hikari, the tall, ominous black shadow of a man who proclaimed love but fostered only hate always looming out, over him, heavy and choking as a cursed white.

' none of this is a game, ' hiwatari says, and it's almost funny how the words he's used trying to defend himself in front of that domineering black obelisk becomes something in his hands trying to stop and bar the other from becoming a pitiful son. ' i already know who you are. ' boy who was supposed to inherit a sickening empire. all the world, its glory and power, yet none of its love. hiwatari does not say any of this. ' you don't want to end up like your father, making mistakes and causing messes for everyone while you do what you think is right. '

@audienceled

STRAY PENCIL TWIRLS IN HIS HAND, short and worn out by bite marmarks on one end. In hindsight, the Hiwatari and his power and knowledge mean what Shou assumes to be bad news. The Suzuki is supposed to start "a new life", after all, or whatever his mother and the government agenst were talking about. But he's always believed such a thing as a new life wouldn't be as simple as moving towns and playing with some legals things on a paper. Even if he were to go as far as changing his name and looks, nothing can change the fact that he's his father's son. And that fact will always make itself a burden, and that burden will always weigh on his shoulders. 

What's a new life if he can still remember ? If he can still tell how the hands on his shoulders and the hands around his throat were the same ? 

" UGH ... about time someone's figured it out ! "  Exaggerated frustration quickly turns into a bright smile as he turns to face his classmate, a smile that friends usually offer each other in congratulations or encouragement, when they've done something particularly impressive. He knows when his secrets are being weaponized against him, and he is having none of it.  " What was it ? The name ? The red hair ? Maybe I should learn to be a little more impulsive and dye it like I've been thinking. "  He goes on talking merrily, taking leisurely steps around like it would just kill him to stand in one place and be perceived for 5 seconds. " Good job either way, great detective, " Three short claps feel necessary as he pauses, maintaining eye contact. " Or should I say Commander ? " 

It's not like he can be proud for finding out himself. This whole thing feels like it should be common knowledge but it doesn't seem like it. It's a middle schooler leading a police department for fuck's sake. But either way, Shou doesn't care about that, it's none of his business. What he cares about is that this middle schooler, who's essentially a cop, has the audacity to order him around.  

" How's it going for ya ? Caught any bad guys recently ? Any pity lawbreakers ? "  The words are light with sarcasm, tight as he holds back a condescending laugh, but the bite behind makes itself clear, sharp and unsettling white. Pencil assisting the taunt as he points while talking.  “ Maybe a few pickpockets while turning your eyes away from bigger problems you can't do shit about. ”

That's where his act ends, smile slipping away, allowing the ever present chill of his eyes to get even more prominent, and it doesn't help how he stares. If the right people were to do their right job ... ( and if his mother cared enough, if law enforcers weren't greedy bastards, if the people forced into claw weren't so cowardly ... ) would it have been enough to left the burden from his shoulders ?  He has always wondered, but wondering led nowhere. At the end he did it all because he had to.  Because no one else would. Because they were all cowards. And for a long time, he was a coward, too. But not anymore. 

" You don't get to tell me what to do. " The shake of his head and glare on his features speak of disappointments and nauseated grudges. A cold, dismissive finality.  " Doing what I think is right has never failed me. I know it won't. Because I'm nothing like him, I never was and I'll never be. "