Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not a thing. You guys should know the drill.
Author's Note: Alright, so like I mentioned earlier, I have a TOOOON of little plot drabbles (mainly involving Hide, but whateves) that may not be big enough to be their own story. Although this one was a good deal longer than the others, most will be just around a thousand or so words.
Individual Summary: Haise wonders what his favorite song used to be.
Eet
It's like forgetting...
The words to your favorite song.
You can't believe it-you were always singing along.
- Regina Spektor
He's constantly surrounded by it, but he never stops to consider the role of music in his life.
In the morning, he can hear Mutsuki hum a soft tune under his breath as he wipes down the kitchen table.
During their afternoon break, he can hear Shirazu sing along loudly to the catchy American jingles from television ads.
Late at night, he can hear the garbled 8-bit music floating from Saiko's room while she plays her vintage video games.
However, the most obvious manifestation of music is through Urie.
He keeps his headphones permanently glue to his ears, pensively glaring out in the distance as his music plays. Sometimes Urie rests his headphones around his neck, nodding his head faintly as the tinny music pours out into the open.
Haise can't help but stare, wondering why the scene seems so familiar. As soon as Urie catches his superior's curious stare, he immediately returns his headphones to their rightful spot to keep his music to himself, leaving Haise frustrated and confused. He wants to ask Urie to keep the headphones around his neck longer to jog his memory, but he knows the request is far too strange—even for him.
After unsuccessfully trying to bury the overwhelming sense of déjà vu for the third time that week, Haise musters up his courage—really, Urie's just a moody teenager; he doesn't know why he's so nervous—and asks him what he's listening to.
As expected, he looks startled by Haise's personal question, but he quickly masks his surprise with his trademark monotonous frown. Still, he answers Haise with a sluggish shrug, pulling his headphones down and leaving them resting around his neck. He even adds the name of the artist after another lengthy pause.
Haise nods enthusiastically. Although he has no idea who that particular performer is, he's excited to finally have a conversation with his subordinate that's more than a few syllables and not related to ghouls.
"Is that your favorite song?" he continues, fueled by the slow momentum. Haise can barely hear the crackled vocals of the performer, though he can't make out the lyrics.
Urie shoots him a strange look with one eye squinted as he studies Haise.
"Favorite?" he scoffs, tugging the headphones back over the soft flesh of his ears. Haise can't quite figure out the tone behind the word, but he's missed his chance. Urie returns to his blank staring, leaving Haise with a new question.
Favorite? Do I have a favorite song?
Haise frowns openly, not caring that Urie sits only a few feet away, most likely lamenting the fact that he's stuck with an insane superior with unnatural facial contortions.
Of course. I have to have a favorite song. Everyone does, right?
He thinks back to Mutuski's hushed humming and Shirazu's loud yodeling in the shower each morning. Even Saiko aggressively defends the station when certain songs come on the radio while they drive.
Everyone has a favorite song, he confirms. I…I just can't think of mine at the moment. But it doesn't mean I don't have one, he hastily adds.
Haise hesitates before posing another question.
Did he use to have a favorite song too? Before?
He decides he no longer wants to think about music anymore.
Although Haise knows his ward nearly as well as the back of his hand, he realizes that he's never really taken notice of the tiny music store on the corner of one the minor intersections. He considers the shop's front window, heavily plastered by neon signs and glossy posters from the latest international superstars. His narrowed eyes roam across the bright colors and catchy phrases until they begin to blur together in an explosion of commercialized excitement.
He's already overstimulated visually just by standing at the front door. He feels a bit apprehensive to enter the store, knowing that his other senses, particularly his tender auditory nerves, will be similarly assaulted.
This seems more of a place for Shirazu, he muses, sparing another glance at the life-sized, grinning pop star in the window. I wouldn't expect Urie to like it that much here either.
However, curiosity eventually wins out. Haise takes a deep breath, grabs the cool metal door handle, and slips inside the building.
Instead of being immediately bowled over by loud, blaring music—with the violent, muffled music that pulses from Shirazu's soundproofed room, he can only expect the worst—Haise fears he may have gone deaf from the equally jarring silence. After a moment of wide-eyed waiting in the air-conditioned storefront, he exhales as a new song begins, gradually filling the shop with calm, muted instrumentals.
Thoroughly pleased by the calmer turn of the events, he casually wanders through the decorated aisles of the music shop. Haise firmly believes that he's never stepped foot in this store; however, he can't fight the recurring sensation of déjà vu as he rounds certain corners, almost as if he's looking for someone from another lifetime.
Maybe looking for a ghost.
Although he's only been there for a few minutes, it feels like he has spent hours in the store, glancing from album cover to cover. The wide variety of genres and artists astounds him; he can hardly believe there are so many types of music in the world.
So that's why Urie scoffed when I asked about his favorite song. There are just too many to have a favorite, he concludes, hoping that his deduction is correct and Urie hadn't actually been laughing at him.
Thinking back to their conversation, Haise frowns faintly as he struggles to remember the name of Urie's artist.
Was it…? No. Hmm…
Oh! Wait! That's it!
Proud of his memory, Haise breathes a triumphant "aha" before ducking behind another row of shelves. He didn't have the chance to hear Urie's music earlier and he hopes he can find it here.
Who knows, he reasons. Maybe then we could have something to talk about. It's an overly ambitious plan, especially considering their former track record with conversations and Haise's debilitating lack of musical knowledge. However, he uses it as an excuse to stay in the music store a little while longer.
After a fruitless search through the international records, Haise nearly gives up with a distressed groan. He glances towards the main counter, but his sigh only grows louder when the employee disappears through a labeled door.
I guess there's just nothing left to do here.
"Yo! Can I help you?"
Startled by the sudden request, Haise utters a little squawk of surprise and lurches towards the voice, knocking a row of albums from their shelf with a flying elbow.
"Oh, crap! Sorry for scaring you, man. Here, let me—"
Haise blinks at the flash of gold and red as it bends down to pick up the dropped CDs. With another belated apology, Haise drops down to his knees and scrambles to pick up the remaining cases. Their fingers brush as they reach for the last CD and Haise panics, immediately thinking of Saiko's cheesy, romantic American films. He jerks his head up, feeling the soft molding of flesh against his skull as he collides with the other man's upper cheek. The cases in the stranger's arms slip from his grasp and clatter to the ground as he backs up with a surprised grunt of pain.
Haise ducks his reddening face and apologizes profusely to the scattered cases while he gathers them into a disorderly stack. He slowly rises to a standing position and peeks up at the other man. The man, Haise notices, has a vibrant shock of blond hair. He assumes the man has chestnut eyes, though he isn't completely sure, since one hand covers up his upper cheek and left eye and the right eye is partially squeezed shut from the pain.
His uninjured eye lands on Haise and widens. Haise can't help but return the stare, shivering faintly when he only can see one curious eye. There's something unnerving about the stranger's amused smile, as if being painfully head-butted in the middle of a music store was on his day's schedule.
Haise can't tell if it's because he senses his unease or for another reason, but the stranger slowly pulls his hand from his eye. His fingertips gradually graze the rising red spot on his cheekbone before dropping to his side.
"Oww… I bet that'll bruise." He shoots Haise a lopsided flash of his teeth.
Suddenly aware of the crinkling plastic of the cases in his hands, Haise quickly turns back to the shelf. "I'm sorry," he echoes lamely, haphazardly shoving cases in empty slots. "I shouldn't have…hit you in the face."
"It's my fault," the stranger counters with a sheepish laugh. "I shouldn't have startled you." The hand that had previously covered his eye tucks itself behind his neck. "How about we start over?"
Haise gives him a faint smile and a bob of his head.
The blond grins wider. "Excellent. Then, can I help you with something?"
Haise is tempted to politely shake his head and refuse, but he pauses and considers his original mission. "I'm…actually looking for a particular artist," he admits after another moment of internal debate. He mentions the name and the other man nods with a knowing hum.
"I know exactly where their music is. Do you happen to listen to them?" he casually throws over his shoulder as he disappears between two shelves. Haise quickly follows, determined not to lose his guide.
They stop in front of another shelf, covered in cases with dark, frightening covers. Haise frowns before reaching towards the tamest CD.
"No, not really. At least not yet."
The blond arches a curious eyebrow. "I don't quite follow."
Haise explains the situation, how he's trying to connect with his stubborn subordinate through music, which the other takes great joy in hearing about.
"Wow, you're still you…" he mumbles under his breath.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, I wonder if you'll still think it's worth it. They're a pretty intense group."
Haise shrugs. He genuinely doesn't know and the album cover slightly frightens him. "It may not be my forte," he smiles toothily, "but I'll give it a shot."
The blond groans appropriately at the poor pun, but Haise sees something encouraging in his chestnut gaze. It makes him want to continue the conversation, but he knows he's only wasting the other's time.
"I'm sorry again about earlier," he sighs, deciding he really should be going instead of making jokes in an empty music shop. "But thank you again for your help, uh—" Haise's eyes shift to the blank spot on the man's red jacket where a name tag would conventionally go.
The blond's gaze travels with it and he gives a little start. "Oh, whoops! Must've lost it again," he chuckles, confirming Haise's suspicions that he's an employee. He considers Haise for a moment, something flinty passing through his warm expression. "My name—it's Nagachika."
"Thank you again, Nagachika-san," he repeats.
"You can call m—" Nagachika breaks off before he can finish his initial sentence. "You don't have to be so formal," he amends. "I mean, after literally colliding, it couldn't hurt to be a bit more casual."
Haise's smile grows and he forgets about the spark of steel. He turns towards the direction of the counter to pay, but Nagachika's impulsive hand snags his jacket. His fingers immediately drop from Haise's clothes, but the latter still turns to see what he wants.
"Uh, I was just wondering if you needed anything else? I mean, the store's pretty dead," he smiles reassuringly at Haise, "so you wouldn't be wasting my time or anything."
Haise considers his offer, drifting back to his previous dilemma regarding his favorite song. He hesitates before he answers.
"I've been meaning to look for some new music," he begins cautiously.
"Alright then! What do you like to listen to already?" His brown eyes crinkle in amusement. "It's not like I have any clue."
Well, that makes two of us then. Haise purses his lips in a contemplative pucker.
"Uhm…"
He feels his face flush for the second time that day and he almost regrets asking Nagachika for help.
Just say something! What does Shirazu always listen to? Say that.
However, before he can blurt out the first mortifying thing that comes to mind, Nagachika quickly interrupts with a breezy chuckle.
"Wait a second—if you already know what you like, then you can't really branch out, can you?" Haise merely nods, grateful to have a few more moments to come up with a better response than "uh."
"How about I just let you listen to a few samples? Maybe one of the songs will spark your interest."
A tentative smile stretches across Haise's lips. He likes the sound of that.
For at least an hour, Haise allows Nagachika to drag him throughout the store. The unfamiliar sounds and names would usually bore him; however, he finds it impossible to grow tired of the employee's overjoyed expression as he babbles excitedly about music. Something about his grin is purely infectious. Haise finds himself laughing and nodding in response, even though he's often clueless about their conversation's subject matter.
"Just like old times, huh?"
"What?" Haise jerks in surprise at the jarring question.
Without breaking stride, Nagachika meets Haise's wide stare before glancing back to the shelves. "Music can bring back memories," he explains casually, picking through several CD cases. "That's part of why I love it so much. It helps me remember things that I had forgotten long ago."
He sighs gustily as he flips over a CD before setting it to the side. "I used to drag my best friend around this place for hours. He probably hated it, but he still came with me each time I asked. We'd do the same thing with the bookstore down the street. The bookstore, the music store—I guess it was just our thing." Although Nagachika smiles at the fond recollection, his distant gaze seems a bit melancholy.
Haise has so many questions—why did he use past tense just then—but he holds them back for the sake of being polite. After all, Nagachika is still some random employee he has just met. They have no previous history to speak of, apart from literally bumping into each other in a music shop.
"Ahh, sorry for dumping that on you. That's a bit embarrassing," Nagachika gives a weak chuckle while scratching at the ghostlike impression of a bruise on his cheek.
He immediately buries his attention in skimming the back of another case for track numbers. Haise takes a moment to study him without fear of being caught.
It must be nice, he contemplates, glancing from Nagachika's eager, roving eyes and his parted lips as he mouths each song title. To have something to love so dearly. I'm a bit jealous.
Haise has his books and his teammates, certainly. He even has the periodic chance to discuss both of them with Arima.
But I can't drag Arima on an hour stroll through the bookstore to point out my favorite authors. He doesn't have that sort of time to waste.
He glances back to Nagachika's radiant smile and tilts his head slightly.
All that passion can't just be for music. He did just mention the bookstore—
Before he can ask if Nagachika also enjoys reading, the latter releases a triumphant crow while spinning back to face Haise.
"I found it!"
"Found what…?" Haise echoes slowly, startled the unrestrained laugh that explodes from the other's open lips.
"Just the perfect song. My best friend really loved it, so I bet you will too!"
Haise dips his head and allows Nagachika to slip the sample headphones over his ears. He listens in a thoughtful silence as the melody and words flood over him. Nagachika watches him with an indescribable expression, mixed with equal parts of enthusiasm, hope, and apprehension.
Haise has never wanted to enjoy a song more than in that moment.
"So? Did you absolutely love it?" Nagachika's eager grin makes Haise's gut twist tighter when he pulls the headphones from his ears.
He wishes the song could have physically knocked him to his knees and brought tears in his eyes. After all, that appears to be the expected reaction, judging by Nagachika's pleading expression.
However, to Haise, the song seems painfully, horribly ordinary with no particularly memorable lyric line or tune. He can't bear to tell Nagachika this, so he forces a wide smile to stretch across his lips.
"I really loved it! It's perfect!" Haise gushes, skirting the edge of his chin with slender fingers.
Nagachika's sunny expression falters and Haise wonders where he made his mistake.
"I'm glad…"
Keeping his downcast stare away from Haise, Nagachika carefully puts the CD case back on the shelf. For the first time, there is a lull in their conversation as Haise tries to figure out how to apologize for not liking a song.
That's ridiculous. So what if I didn't really like it? It shouldn't mean anything.
Haise swallows and glances at the chrome clock above the checkout counter. He's been in the music store for nearly two hours.
I have to get back home to make the Quinx's dinner, he adds, faintly grateful for the chance to excuse himself from the awkward silence.
"Thank you again for your help," he begins, "but I have to go home and make dinner for my team."
Nagachika's bright grin returns, melting away the icy tension in their stalled conversation.
"It was no problem!" Nagachika's enticing chuckle bubbles from his throat as his chestnut eyes crinkle in delight. "I should probably apologize for boring you to death with all that music."
Haise offers him a genuine smile, because in all honesty, he rather enjoyed himself. "No, I really liked it. I never knew there was so much music out there."
Nagachika shrugs with another furtive flick of the upper lip. "Well, I guess you never know what's out there until you actually look for it," he answers cryptically.
"I think you might be right."
He seems to like this response, but he doesn't explain why. Instead, Nagachika excuses himself with a polite nod of his head. "I should probably let you check out. See you later, Haise!" He waves at Haise with a flap of his wrist before turning towards the door. Haise is too busy waving back to realize he never introduced himself.
Haise watches his disappearing back and hears the outside door open and close before glancing towards the CD racks. He grabs the same disc Nagachika had put back only moments earlier and tucks it next to the other one in the crook of his elbow.
Maybe Urie might like it, he reasons. However, he secretly hopes that if he gives the song another chance, he might finally see what Nagachika loves so much about it.
Haise sets the two cases on the counter and hums absently as the cashier totals up his order.
"Did you find everything you needed?"
"Yes, I did. Thank you," Haise smiles widely, considering his previous conversation with Nagachika. "Nagachika-san was an excellent help. You must be grateful that he works here."
"Nagachika-san…?" The cashier blinks before breaking out into loud peals of laughter. "Oh, you must mean Hide-kun! He doesn't work here, but he probably should with all that knowledge. He's always trying to get customers to buy certain albums," she continues, eyes landing on Kaneki's second item.
That's strange. I could have sworn he introduced himself as an employee. No matter. I must have misheard him then.
Haise drops the needed number of coins in her palm and thanks the cashier again for her assistance.
As he leaves the music store, he thinks back to his original goal. He remembers Urie's scoff about having a favorite song. He remembers Nagachika's unrestrained enthusiasm as he had gushed about his favorite songs and artists. He remembers the way he wanted so desperately to love the same song that Nagachika's friend had loved.
He remembers the liquid sunshine that dripped from Nagachika's voice, far more vivid and alive than any of the scratchy recordings.
He may not have found his favorite song, but he thinks he may have found his favorite sound.
(Seriously? Haise wants to roll his eyes at the blatant, if not accurate cliché.)
(And you wonder why the Quinx say you embarrass them…)
Thank you! Let me know if you have any suggestions!
(Also, I was this close to making Kaneki's favorite song "Unravel" from the Root A finale, but then I decided not to be an insensitive jerk.)
