Oh jeez, I need to throw out a quick warning. While there are no actual pairings or romantic bits in this fic, there are some nudges and jokes involving m/m due to an unintentionally perverted OC, and the bits get kind of awkward. So if that bothers you at all, I suggest you skip this one. Also recommended if you're grossed out by blood and whatnot.
But I mostly wanted an overprotective dad-guardian Harlock fic and to be really mean to Daiba, so here it is. Wasn't planning on posting this here, but I got more than one request to so...sorry.
Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy it a little.
When Harlock said no, just a flat no, it was impossible to convince him otherwise, and Daiba knew that. The cabin boy just happened to be as hard-headed as his captain.
"But," Daiba huffed, holding up the puppy right next to his cheek. "He's too young to be on his own." Daiba was determined. He would have this dog. He'd always wanted one. It seemed like something every boy had to have growing up, but his father's reaction had mirrored Harlock's.
He'd held up the small, helpless mutt, pleading with his father. "No," had been the answer. "Put that thing back where you found it. It could have diseases."
Harlock hadn't mentioned diseases. He'd just drawled a simple no. "Look at him!" Daiba insisted.
The captain bothered a glance, taking in the scraggly runt. The tiny mutt couldn't have been more than two months old, but its paws were decently-sized. It would at least be a medium-sized dog once grown. Its coat was a sleek honey-gold, its eyes an intelligent hazel. Though one ear flopped forward rebelliously, the other one pointed up like a satellite atop its head.
It might have made a good guard dog for the accident-prone teen, Harlock mused, but… "Where did you find that?" the captain frowned.
"Over in some bushes back there." Daiba tilted his head to show where he'd found the pup, which eagerly began licking his chin when he brought it protectively to his chest.
"You shouldn't pick up strange animals off alien planets," Harlock scolded dryly. "You don't know where it came from."
"Maybe someone left him here. Come on, Captain. I'll take care of him." As soon as he realized he was starting to pout, he quickly stopped. "If we can have a cat and a bird aboard the ship, why not a dog?"
Harlock didn't seem to mind crushing his youngest crewman's hopes. "Cats and birds don't take up much space, and they don't need the exercise a dog does. They also don't need as much food. I'm certain you could take care of it, but it really isn't a smart move to just pick anything up off a foreign planet. This isn't a debate, Daiba. Put that back where you found it."
"That would be heartless!" the blond cried. "You're going to just leave it here to die?"
"Don't try and paint me as a bad guy here. Sometimes it's better to let nature take over. Don't make me say this again: put that back where you found it."
"But-!" Daiba began, desperation obvious in his voice. "I…" He cowered back under the glare of his captain.
"If I see that dog again," Harlock warned, turning heel back toward his ship, "there will be severe repercussions."
"What happened to doing what we wanted?" Daiba sighed down to the pup cradled in his arms. The dog tilted its head curiously in response before taking an interest in the blond's hair. "I bet it's because he's a cat person," he grumbled as the dog set to gnawing on his hair.
His shoulders and his chin down, Daiba headed back for the small overgrowth of alien plant he'd referred to as bushes. They were a bit too pink to be bushes really. "I'm sorry, boy," he muttered. "I really am."
The dog seemed confused by being set down from where it had been picked up. It tilted its head again, its whip-like tail wagging curiously. Daiba scowled at the ground. He hated when his chest felt empty. "Stop that," he huffed. "Go run off and find your family or something." The dog really did look like the one he'd shown to his father. It just didn't seem right to leave it all alone. Puppies needed someone to look after them.
The rumble of the ship sounded not too far off. He could practically hear Harlock's order for him to get back before they left him. He turned and started back, his fists clenched as though it could keep him from turning back. It might have worked had the tiny thing trailing at the heels of his boots not yipped at him.
Without hesitation, he scooped the dog back up and stormed toward the ship. Harlock was probably on the bridge, he reasoned, so if he could get to his room without anyone noticing, he could hide the dog there. He would train it to be such a damn good dog that Harlock wouldn't be able to say no again. It was his dog, and he would keep it!
"Now what am I going to name you? What am I going to name you?" he muttered to himself as he rushed onto the ship. It started moving only seconds after he'd made it on. Jeez, Harlock really would have left him.
Men were scattered along the hallways, drinking and playing games for the most part. Though they weren't paying him any attention, Daiba probably couldn't have managed to look more conspicuous if he'd tried. The dog exchanged hands constantly to be hidden behind his thin frame, but it didn't seem to mind. It didn't yip or squirm, and Daiba was sure he'd found the best dog he could have asked for.
He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until the door to his room closed behind him. He wheezed in uneven gasps. Usually he wasn't all that worried, but the captain had seemed more pissy than usual.
Plopping down on his bed, he pulled the small bundle of fur in close and smiled as it licked his chin some more. "Good boy," he cooed, running the pointed ear between his thumb and forefinger. "Hmm, what am I going to name you? And what am I going to feed you? Well…I guess you'll just get some of my portion. Hope you don't mind Masu's cooking."
The pup yawned, curling its tongue with a soft whine. "Hey," Daiba grinned suddenly. "I should call you Tsuyoshi." The dog was too busy going to sleep to care what its name was, but the teen so was caught up in his own joy that he hardly noticed.
He had a dog now, his very own dog. The captain could just deal with it. Er, well, not really. He'd prefer the captain didn't deal with his dog at all. He couldn't see that ending well, because he wasn't entirely certain the captain wasn't heartless enough to throw a dog out of an airlock.
"Stupid cat people," he grumbled.
The first time he returned to his station on the bridge, Daiba was jumping like a scared cat at every little sound. He was just waiting for someone to drag Tsuyoshi in, or for Harlock to ask how he thought he could get away with something like this. But everything went on as usual. It started to slip back into the same boring routine as always. He relaxed and escaped to his room as soon as he was able.
The pup was waiting just where he'd left it, sitting and calmly staring at the door. "Good boy!" he praised, scooping the bundle up. The pup eagerly wagged its tail.
Daiba knew dogs were intelligent, but he was sure his Tsuyoshi was smarter than any of them. Or maybe he was just really good at training. Sit, rollover, play dead – the pup knew them all within a week. The teen spent all the free time he could get away with in his room, playing fetch with chicken bones and praising his pup.
He did find that Harlock had been right about one thing. Dogs were absolute pigs. He had to give the tiny thing half his own meal, and it would still always whine and ask for more. "I've gotta eat too, Tsuyoshi," he'd sigh. "I'm probably starving more than you here."
The pup grew at a startling rate despite the lack of food. Daiba did like the idea of a large dog, not that his room was really made for it. Tsuyoshi was twice its original size after two weeks, its back reaching the teen's knees. Its teeth seemed even sharper than before, a fact Daiba noticed after he had to bandage his hand to hide the bite marks. He learned quickly not to come between the dog and its food.
"How am I supposed to give you a bath?" he muttered one afternoon as the dog rolled around on the metal flooring. The showers were too far away not to get seen, especially with how big the mutt had gotten. "Maybe if we go while everyone's sleeping."
He tossed a worn bone across the room, watching his dog scamper eagerly toward it. It was quickly returned, dropped in front of him on the bed. Tsuyoshi then took an interest in his bandaged hand. He had to lightly bop the dog on the nose to keep it from chewing on the gauze.
"No," he huffed. "You can chew on bones. Everything else is off limits unless you want to get thrown off the ship."
The dog plopped dog on its haunches, staring. It really did look so intelligent. It would have been such a waste to let it die. "You're a good boy," Daiba offered, ruffling between the two satellite ears. He was glad he'd snuck it onboard. It was nice to have a companion on the ship that wouldn't ridicule him at every turn.
He'd dozed off when Tsuyoshi was nudging him back awake. It was practically his new alarm clock. Not that it mattered. There usually wasn't anything to wake up for. Things had been so boring recently. He was really missing killing swarms of plant bitches.
He dragged himself out of bed, signaling for the dog to stay put while he checked the halls. The drunks dotted the area, snoring up a storm. Daiba figured they'd be safe enough and hauled the heavy mutt into his arms.
The dog did seem to appreciate the shower, but more as a chance to play some more than to get cleaned. Daiba ended up drenched in water after he was tackled into it. He felt like he should have been mad, but it was more fun than he'd had in weeks, so he just laughed it off.
He couldn't imagine why the captain wouldn't want a dog. Dogs were way better than any sake-guzzling bird or cat, and there was plenty of room on the ship. They should have just gotten a ton of dogs.
Tsuyoshi continued growing. Daiba was glad no one bothered to enter his room because his original plan to hide the dog would no longer work. There was nowhere it could hide. Its proud snout now reached the teen's hip while both of them were standing. Did puppies usually grow this big in a month? Daiba just had to assume they did.
The crew had run into a few scuffles, but nothing particularly interesting. Daiba still preferred to stay in his room, finding his dog more enjoyable than the rest of the men. Kei was constantly attempting to pry him into chatting, which he would brush off as quickly as possible. What a pain.
Though no one seemed suspicious of him, he did have quite the problem. Tsuyoshi was always begging for food, and Daiba just couldn't steal anymore than he already was. "No, this is my food," he sighed, pushing the dog's nose away from his plate. "I'm sorry. I'll try to get you some more later."
The mutt whined its disapproval. "Sorr-," Daiba began, only to cut off with a startled choke of pain. He tore his hand away, holding it close to his chest as blood pooled through his fingers. "Shit!" he cried. That last bite mark had just healed up.
Tsuyoshi noisily wolfed down his food, taking no interest in the teen's pain. Daiba was so shocked that by the time the idea of scolding the dog came to mind, it had already finished off his food and was now staring at him. He felt the sudden need to move off the bed, to get out of the room. The dog's eyes shone with an unnatural gleam. A growl rose up in its throat, jagged and dangerous.
Daiba swore the beast was grinning.
It started to change. No, that wasn't the right word. It was morphing, mutating. The muscles under its skin rippled as its joints cracked. The usual slobber that dripped from its tongue began to increase, turning an acrid yellow. He needed to get his gun. He needed to get it now.
The Dragoon sat on his bedside table, behind the freak. He was going to have to shoot with his left hand because his right hurt too much to move, but it wasn't a long shot. If he could just get around…
He noticed the monster beginning to stand on two legs as he jumped up and tried to race past. For a moment, he wasn't sure why he was being pulled back. For a moment everything slowed down. The air flew from his lungs in a sharp wheeze as he was thrown back against the metal wall. His arm was on fire, actually on fire. It must have been. That was the only way to explain the agony tearing through it. If he'd had the breath, he would have screamed.
"Master!" a voice cooed somewhere behind the roaring in his ears. "None of your clothes fit me. You're right, I am getting too big. Oh I suppose these will do." Everything seemed to reach Daiba as though swimming through honey except for the pain. The pain was constant.
"Now look at me, master." He didn't even realize his eyes had been closed until a hand was grabbing him by the chin and forcing him to look upward. He had to squint through his pain, a sharp whine escaping him.
The thing grinning at him looked human, if humans could have smiled so wide with so many pointed teeth. "Aw, don't be upset, little master. I really do like you. I really do. It was so much fun." Its hair was the same color. Its eyes were the same color. No, no it wasn't possible.
Daiba wanted to move his good hand to claw against the pain in his boiling arm, but the thing was kneeling in his lap, running its clawed finger up the line of his throat. "You're my favorite," it purred. "And you do taste exquisite, so I'll save you for last. Here, I'll get rid of all those filthy humans you always complain about. Just for you, master. I can't say I won't enjoy it though."
Daiba whimpered agony as his arm was moved. But once it was in his line of vision, he wondered why so much of it was hurting…when there was so little of it left. His elbow and everything after it was gone, blood pooling out from the end. He couldn't breathe. He wanted to yell and kick and scream, but he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.
"Shh," the thing whispered almost soothingly. "Hush, master. You don't want to cause a scene. They can't know I'm here after all, or there would be 'severe repercussions'."
The freak grinned and ran its tongue across the root of the blood flow. Suddenly, the burn increased tenfold, as though someone has shoved a red-hot poker straight into his arm. His scream was a sharp whine of breath. This was hell, pure hell.
"Can't have you bleeding out, master," the thing laughed mockingly, jumping to its feet and smearing his blood across its face. "I'll be back as soon as I can," it sang.
Daiba lay on his side, curled up around his ruined arm. He screamed soundlessly until his throat was raw, and still it didn't help. The pain never ebbed, and he could only watch through the blurry wall of tears in his eyes as his pet grabbed the bloody lower half of his arm off the floor and proceeded out into the hall with it. He hoped it was all a dream. He begged for it to be, because he wanted to forget the sight of someone biting through his fingers when he woke up.
But he couldn't…He couldn't let that thing hurt anyone. It would be all his fault. All his fault. His gun was all the way across the room, but he had to get to it. He had to kill that thing. He forced his good arm forward, clawing at the ground. There was nothing to grab hold of, and his glove merely slipped uselessly through the slick of blood covering the floor.
Shoving the heels of his boots against the wall, he pushed himself forward, still clawing uselessly at the ground. He'd never felt so weak, so tired. He'd really never felt so nauseous. His boots got him much farther than his arm ever could. The other, dragging along the floor, made him tremble so much that he couldn't see straight. He choked on a sob as his boots slipped in his blood.
He was so close. It was right there, so close. Just one more push. He tore uselessly at the front of the small table, trying to drag himself up. Finally, his hand found the belt. Now he just had to go find that thing…just had to go kill it. He latched onto the strap, dragging it down with him as he collapsed back to the floor.
It was a good thing he hadn't eaten, because the moment the stump of his arm slammed into the hard metal, the pain overwhelmed him. He choked on bile, coughing up whatever had been in his stomach. With one last strain of energy, he tried to push himself toward the door. When he fell, it still seemed miles away. He didn't care anymore, not about anything.
He just lay there in silent tears, his hand pointlessly outstretched toward the door, the gun belt laced around his thumb. He just wanted to wake up in a world where it had all been a nightmare, because that was all it seemed like it could have been.
Uh, yep. My first venture back into third person in a while. I think it went alright for the most part.
On a side note, you may not remember so in case you don't, Tsuyoshi is Daiba's father's name. Yeah, that makes everything about five times as awkward, especially since it gets worse. A lot worse.