Termites & Sugar

“But none of the money we spend Seems to do us much good in the end I got a cracked engine block, both of us do”       Seven Years: Past   Just like everything else that revolves around the duo of Osamu and Chuuya, later birthday surprises become a form of tradition.   While Chuuya wasn't sure if even would even happen the next year, trudging up a leather satchel for the fucker turned out to not be a wasted effort when in turn he received a dark red biker jacket. It was an amazing gift—much better than the previous year's one—and excused Chuuya from the plans he'd been making to steal a green jacket some Sheep members had mentioned to him.   And so one year turned to two, to three, to four. At fifteen, most of the other Sheep had gotten in on the fun, gift giving as fun competitions and surprises all around. Chuuya participated with those when he felt like they could afford it, though Osamu's bastard ass never so much as entertained the idea.   Chuuya couldn't understand it—it's not like Osamu doesn't enjoy the company of other kids, and he's actually really good with the little ones so long as they don't have a grumpy attitude. So why would he then avoid celebrating the few things in life said kids could actually have? It's a mystery Chuuya never pushed too hard on.   Everything just…ran smoothly in those few years.   So of course it all had to change.   Call it a miracle or the seed of future disaster, a random autumn day proved to he the last normal one any of The Sheep would have. Late noon rolled around, and with it, a sparse lunch that Chuuya didn't take part it. Even if he wasn't so busy detangling himself from Osamu's shitty traps set out half a mile away with the very bastard laughing his ass off several feet away, Chuuya knows neither of them would have tried to eat anyway.   “You-! Fuck, I'm gonna get yer’ ass for this!” Chuuya yells, kicking at the chains that stubbornly hold onto his legs while his hands continue to grapple with the plastic ropes tied around his front. It's made especially difficult with some concoction of slime dripping down his face, limiting his veiw and even finding it's way into his nostrils and mouth.   Down below, Osamu sits with crossed legs, a smug grin lining his face. “You can certainly try, but we both know you won't come anything close to this level of detailed execution.” Technically true, if not for the many, many times Chuuya managed to prank Osamu in equally horrendous amounts. But the bandaged genuis always claims they were ‘moments of pity’ to keep Chuuya entertained.   Chuuya snarls, trying his damnest to ignore the slime that lines his teeth with the action. “Oh yeah? Try me, bitch. I'll have yer'- ugh, shit! Damnit, what the fuck is this gross stuff?!”   “Hm…”   “Osamu!”   Osamu clicks his tongue at Chuuya's impatience, drawing out his words to be petty and to be an even greater asshole. “I'm sure you've seen me taking my time to massage the feet of our dear friends~” Chuuya pales, but Osamu isn't done, because fuck him. “Mm, I've also recently taken it upon myself to scrub clean every Sheep member's socks and shoes, or have you really not noticed?”   “No...,”Chuuya whispers in horror, gagging as a large goop of the…slime touches his gums. “No, I- Rrg, refuse to fuck'n believe that!”   A chuckle leaves the other teen, who rests his chin on a lifted knee. From the years spent around him, Chuuya knows this as a warning. He won't be leaving this trap for a while. “Chuuya's allowed to remain in disbelief all he likes, but it won't help you out in the slightest~”   Enraged and re-energized to prove Osamu wrong, the ginger struggles more fervently in his bindings, even going as far as knawing on the filthy, goo-covered plastic.   “Fuck you…,” Chuuya growls beneath his breath, straining one leg to twist beneath the other in hopes of shoving off one chain. It doesn't work, and only further serves to squeeze flesh against bone in a horrible way.   Osamu grins prouder than a mad man, watching him with endless amusement. To hell with ‘friends’, this stupid bastard can go suck a d-   “Uh…dudes.”   Both Chuuya’s and Osamu's head snap towards the voice, belonging to a younger Sheep boy. He's looking between them with stress lines unbefitting of his age that, in Chuuya’s fair opinion, are in no way related to him and the mackerel. Nope. Doesn't make sense.   “Is there something you need?” Osamu asks boredly, face suddenly one that of boredom.   The boy—Chuuya squints around the goo. Daiki? Daisuke..?—makes a weird motion with his hands. From Osamu's lack of reaction it means shit for nothing.   Daiki-or-Daisuke groans loudly. “Just- return to base. Now.”   “Sure thing,” Osamu chirps, standing. “You need to work on your signing though, kid.”   “I know…”   Eh? “Eh?! Don't fuck’n- ugh, plph! Shit! Don't leave me Herr, damnit!” Chuuya yells. He likes a challenge but the blood has long since rushed down to his ears and pressed at his skull. And if they're being called back for something urgent then there's no way in hell he's missing out on whatever it is.   But the boy whatever-his-fucking-name-is and Osamu do leave. Without a single fuck'n glance back. Bastards!   Chuuya's struggling intensifies, the chains rattling loudly and the rope digging in to the point it burns. Red faced, he pushes on with all his determination, set on breaking out like he always does and giving that son of a bitch a good beating.   The sun continues to beat down heavily on his sore body for the next hour, thoroughly exhausted in his getaway trials. No matter what Chuuya tries, loosening himself even an inch from the rope tightens the chains. Managing to shake up said chains then only furthers to strangulate the ropes around him. Not to mention the shitty slime that's somehow not dried up in this damn heat.   Head pounding, the rays of the setting sun burning up his back, Chuuya is ready to chew off his own fucking arm when he hears it. The unmistakable sound of ripping from far above.   …He'll kill that mackerel.   Chuuya takes in a tired breath, gathering his withered energy as he starts swaying himself around. It has the consequence of straining his bindings but he pushes on, moving until he's rocking high with every swing. With it, the sound of ripping gradually intensifies.   Until-   RIP!   He falls into the air with a sharp intake of air, not bothering to watch the ropes slip around him or fall to the ground below. Chuuya smirks in victory, bending his core to grab hold of the chains and finally, finally, remove them from his legs. It doesn’t even matter that he inevitably drops to the ground with a hard hit, gtunting at the pain with wheezing out a laugh at his success.   Chuuya takes a moment to just catch his breath, head dizzy as it reoriants itself.   “Shit…,” he rasps, running his fingers through the rough dirt under him.   Once he is able to sit up, he runs a hand over his face to discard the gooey shit, giving each clump a disgusted look as he examines it as if to disprove Osamu's earlier words.   Ain't no way this actually foot jam, Chuuya warily thinks, flicking the final handful off his fingers. It better not be if that fucker knows what's good for ‘em.   It's not long after his escape that Chuuya stands up, groaning with each stretch of his limbs, popping from hours of constricted movement. Then he makes his way to The Sheep base, slower than his normal speed but running on his anger with a passionate drive.   The building's rot-formed holes expose inner glow, a sign that something big is going on. Any other night would be lights out as they rest anxiously in case of attack.   He hurries close, willing himself not to just barge in and see what the issue is. Quickly knocking out the password, Chuuya doesn't bother waiting for anyone to open the door before racing in.   Huddled everywhere are The Sheep. They're as spread out as they possibly can be in such a confined space, but it's clearly not enough of an issue as every member whispers arguments at each other. Chuuya's surprised to even see Osamu throwing words with Tominaga and Shirase—the latter a close friend to Chuuya but who is supposed to be with a different branch.   The hell is happening…? he wonders, trudging through the bodies of his friends to find the center of the crowd. It finally clicks in his brain once he sees a man standing near a wall with two Sheep holding his arms.   The man is an adult most alarmingly, and with the way he's being guarded he's an unwelcome guest. Chuuya nods to the three ‘guards’, getting friendly smiles back.   “What's going on?” He asks calmly, hands in his pockets. Freaking out won't do them any good.   “Are you the leade-?” the adult starts before receiving an elbow to the gut. The kid who did it glares momentarily while the other kids deign to answer Chuuya.   “Those Takasekai bastards gave us this piece of crap ‘few hours ago,” the left ‘guard’ huffs, looking frustrated.   “Said they want a piece treaty,” the other left ‘guard’ continues, though she's keeping her focus on the adult more than Chuuya. “Ya’ know, because that's totally not suspicious or anything.”   Chuuya frowns, looking between the three of them. The Sheep are tense, more than earned by such an unusual situation. But he gets the impression there's more.   “What else?”   The first ‘guard’ answers again, pointing a thumb at the adult. “They said he's in league with that new group. The soldiers.”   “Ha! They couldn't even capture an actual soldier so they went with second best,” the Sheep on the right snorts mockingly. She shuts up when Chuuya raises an eyebrow.   “Huh…so Takasekai want to form a unit with us to take advantage of the GSS.” The idea doesn't strike him as unplausable but there has to be an extra factor for even Osamu to be this riled up. Thinking, Chuuya speaks his assumptions out loud. “The GSS is an armed, foreign enemy with military training. They haven't done much aside from enroach on Suribachi territory, but they must have done something to aggravate Takasekai.”   Pausing, Chuuya steps closer to the adult, who looks ashy and nervous as his space is invaded. No visible weapons, no built muscle, nothing wealthy to look at…Chuuya can see nothing that makes this guy a good bargain.   Seeing is only one part of knowing though. So Chuuya looks the guy in the eyes, asking, “Who are you?”   Around him, The Sheep have begun to quiet down, loudly arguments dwindling to whispers and chatter. Chuuya largely ignores it, attention trained on this living bargaining chip.   The man's throat bobs weirdly as he swallowed, eyes dancing around the room while he seems to ease his panic.   “Wil-Wilson. Edmund Wilson,” comes out of his mouth in rough Japanese. He must not be one for travel, then. “I don't have anything to offer any of- of two groups. Nothing. GSS is only contracted for higher- hire. Pardon my bilingual.”   Chuuya sighs, leaning onto one leg as he debates. He can feel the eyes of everyone boring into him, waiting.   Should they agree? The Sheep have never tried to collaborate with another organization. If there was an enemy smaller than them, they got rid of them, simple as that. The Sheep have been doing fine as is, despite being run by children, adding in adults who think they know better would ruin them.   Familiar footsteps come up beside him as soft as a breeze. The owner of them doesn't say anything word. Chuuya keeps thinking.   The Takasekai aren't dumb though. Even if all they wanted from this was to pull the rug under The Sheep and the GSS, handing over someone who isn't worth a damn of consideration would be everything above insulting. Plus, if The Sheep were to agree, they would have a threat out of their hair and potentially a neutral party they wouldn't need to worry about any longer.   Chuuya inhales.   “What are your thoughts on this, ‘Samu?”   Beside him, having been silent since walking over, Osamu speaks up calmly. “We shouldn't take the ally treaty. Instead, we keep this guest of ours and squeeze his information dry. He's an informant and business partner for those foreign organizations. It will come in handy-”   “Bull!” Shirase shouts, stomping over and pushint through the crowd. Other Sheep show equal amounts of disagreement. “If we take the deal we can get rid of two crappy gangs in one! Take the bargain, get rid of the soldiers, and use the shit we get from the bodies to run off the Takasekai.”   Osamu huffs through his nose. Chuuya sends him a warning glare before nodding to his silver-haired friend. “I get what you're saying Shirase. If Takasekai or GSS were any less international and equipped then we could take em’ both down easy in one go.”   Shirase grits his teeth. “But?”   “But,” Chuuya says with crossed arms, chin held high, “we have to think about what's in it for Takasekai. Sure, they wouldn't be stupid enough to ask the Port Mafia for help, but The Sheep are hardly their friends either. If either of our groups were less powered then we would have dominated one another by now.   “Takasekai has something up their sleeve, is what I'm saying. This guy,” Chuuya jerks his chin at the adult, “is valuable. Too valuable. We'll be stabbed in the back if we agree to work with them.”   Murmurs start up within the crowd. At some point during Chuuya’s talk they had all gone quiet, but now that they're hearing him out, the arguments are sure to start up again. Chuuya doesn’t try to stop it.   “We know what they want though!” Shirase shouts. His arms wave around, motioning to everything and nothing at the same time. “They want those vagabond ass-faces out of here, and tehy’re just too weak to do it themselves. They’ll be in our debt!” The kids around that aren’t still stuck on Chuuya’s analysis nod readily at all of Shirase’s points. Great, Chuuya thinks sourily, we’re all divided over this.   “Plus,” Shirase continues, “The Sheep can gather information on Takasekai this way. Discover what makes them tic, what fire power they lack. We can take advantage of this!” “That’s wha-”   “That’s what Takasekai would be doing as well.” Osamu pretends he doesn’t see the glare Chuuya sends his way for interrupting, stepping around the other bodies with a slowness meant to unsettle his target. With the frown lines worrying Shirase’s pale face, it’s clearly working.   Osamu continues. “There have been numerous chances for Takasekai to make peace with us in any multiple of ways. They haven't. It's only now that the GSS are posing a threat to them that they feel surrounded by enemies and want to take action. In their minds, they'll have a similar strategy as you did just now: kill two birds with one stone.”   Unable to help roll his eyes at his friend's dramatics, Chuuya gives Osamu a fleeting look while he tries to console the majority party. “Exactly. Otherwise, this would be a great plan to shove a foot up those bastard’s asses. We just need to think smart.”   Shirase throws his hands up, scowling. One kid, Yuan, pats his arm sympathetically, giving Osamu the stink eye. Other Sheep show their grievances openly, pushing past Chuuya and Osamu to stand by Shirase.   They look…mad. Betrayed almost. Something squirms in Chuuya’s stomach at the realization.   When nearly all of The Sheep have moved away from Chuuya's radius, Tominaga gives the final verdict for the whole group. “We're doing this.”   Chuuya puts an angry step forward, shoving at Osamu's arm when it comes to stop him. “Don't be an idiot, Taro-nii! We've said why it won't-”   “But what if it will?!” Someone shouts.   “Yeah! You don't know everything, Chuuya.”   “We can't call ourselves The Sheep if our ‘King’ is too scared to fight!”   “-a coward all these years-”   “-lying to everyone?!”   “-should never have trusted-”   Everything is spiraling. The words of his family. The disgusted eyes of his friends. The way they point, the way they sneer.   Chuuya, in that moment, finds his eyes drawn to the GSS informant. The man is still tied to the wall, looking unsure. They never meet eyes.   Chuuya's not sure if that's for the best.   Sound rings in his head, growing louder and louder as he tears his gaze away from the adult to…anything. Everything. The arguments have turned into yelling. In turn, the ringing white noise grows even more.   Chuuya thinks he's yelling too. He could be. It would be in character to fight. It’s what he's good at—good for.   Is he even trying? Is it worth it? The noise is growing…too loud…   What did he do wrong ? Was his idea flawed ? Did he make a mistake …?   Too… loud …-   Chuuya flinches.   Osamu rubs his arm. He's uncharacteristically soft. Chuuya also realizes, belatedly, that Osamu's gripping his waist with his other hand.   “Chuuya.”   He takes a breath. Chuuya looks around. They're outside.   “…” He…won't say thank you. Doesn't feel like saying anything, actually. But as the rings dissipate from his skull, Chuuya knows he has no choice.   “Chuuya-”   “We need to get rid of them.” Chuuya steals himself as he speaks, shaking off his friend's touches.   Osamu has the nerve to raise a teasing eyebrow. “The Sheep?” He grins when Chuuya socks his shoulder.   “Takasekai,” Chuuya gruffs. “Don't be a piece of shit right now.”   “Hai~”   Chuuya crosses his arms, sparing a blank look over at the the rotted building. The lights have dimmed, but he can still hear traces of yelling flit through the gaps. He looks away.