NEW TACHIHARA SHUNZEN FIC
I'm in the mood to write about Shunzen again.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/88853961
This peace is short, so in addition to the AO3 link, I decided to post it here as well.
Summary: In which Tachihara Shunzen is the fifth Hunting Dog instead of Michizou.
Warning: Fukuchi does bad things to recruit Shunzen, description of dead bodies.
The boat, borrowed from a fisherman, reached the island only when it had grown completely dark. With a light flick of his wrist, Fukuchi hauled it onto the shore so it wouldn't drift back out with the sea waves. Once finished, the first thing he noticed was that even on the beach, the air was thick with the distinct scent of gunpowder, blood, and earth churned up by shells. It seemed this smell now haunted him everywhere. Adjusting his slightly damp sleeves, he moved inland, skirting around craters, sparse bushes, and the wreckage of machinery and buildings. The war on this island had been dragging on for an eternity. Judging by the reports sent from here, a ceasefire would likely occur very soon, but only because the number of soldiers on both sides had dwindled, nearing a critical point. Most likely, the command of the troops stationed here was about to receive orders to retreat, acknowledging their defeat.
Fukuchi had not come here for that reason. His arrival was unofficial, unauthorized. His goal in visiting Tokoyami Island was singular: to find valuable allies. However, the methods chosen by the legendary soldier for recruitment could quite reasonably be called... unconventional. That is why he crept through the darkness, crossing the battlefield with long strides to conceal his presence from everyone.
Finding his first potential candidate, he leaned in closer to examine the man's condition. Unfortunately, the young man was missing the lower half of his body. The next corpse he found was wearing a foreign uniform, which was categorically unsuitable for his plans. He moved on, leaping into the next trench, and so on. After a series of inspected bodies left to their fate, grim luck finally smiled upon him: he stumbled across a large, fresh burial mound. Judging by the shape, several people had been buried there in haste. The earth was still loose, so he began to frantically dig it away with his bare hands, feeling cold black soil mixed with small stones wedging under his fingernails. It took a long time, but he persisted in digging, stopping only occasionally to lament that he hadn't brought an extra flask of something strong.
At the bottom of the mass grave lie five bodies in a heap. Fukuchi turns them over and examines them, noting that they are all in much better condition than the previous ones. By his estimation, they have been dead for no more than a day. But that is not the main point. If he had simply needed a body in good condition, he wouldn't have sailed to a remote island for it. What makes this place special is that the soldiers forced to fight and die here were not ordinary men, but ability users. Fukuchi methodically searches the bodies for dog tags. He finds them on four, but the fifth has been stripped even of this final mark of distinction. Only one of the four tags, besides the personal data, bears a notation regarding an ability. Returning the useless tags to their owners, Fukuchi pores over the lines on the remaining one. As he reads, a triumphant smirk lights up his face: the find has exceeded his wildest expectations. Dragging the chosen soldier out of the pit, Fukuchi begins to bury the others back up.
Dawn is already breaking as Fukuchi trudges toward his boat with the limp burden on his back. The boy’s dog tag is clenched in his fist. The first rays of the sun illuminate the engraving:
Finding a suitable body had been the hardest part. All that remained was to return, wake Bram, and order him to turn the soldier. The young vampire would become a part of the Hunting Dogs, a confidant who would never disobey an order—if not by nature, then at least out of gratitude for a second life. Fukuchi grabs the oars and begins to row, ensuring that his precious cargo, now hidden in a large canvas bag at the bottom of the boat, remains unharmed.
