meitanteiosaka:
The apology really went further to raising Heiji’s spirits, as well as noticing Hakuba enjoying his meal. “See? I told you the okonomiyaki here was the best!“
He took a few more bites himself, listening to Hakuba’s complaints, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, Oton used to scold me so much for being ‘troublesome,’” he replied, unable to keep from slipping the Osakan title in. “‘Oni Heizo and his rambunctious son,’ they said. I think some of them still do, actually.“ He tapped his fingers against his chin before shrugging, resuming the meal and conversation. “He kept saying my actions reflected poorly on him, and I tried so hard to make him proud by acting how I was expected to. ‘The Superintendent Supervisor’s son is such a respectable man,’” he recited with a bit more bitterness than he intended. “‘Look at how quiet and polite he is.’ It got tiring. Quickly. They all saw me as his son, and didn’t see me for me. No one respected me, and so many tried to use me. And Oton thought that was fine.“ Or he hadn’t noticed, but Heiji still felt bitter about the whole ordeal and wanted to blame someone. He stabbed at his next bite with a bit more force than necessary. Why did he feel the need to tell Hakuba all this? Even Kudo didn’t know this about him. But then, Kudo had pretty much already escaped from his father’s shadow and didn’t need this lesson.
"I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not, and the stress of it kept,” he paused for a moment to search for the right word, “accumulating. I blew up in his face, in public, and left to take my temper out on some…thing else. Wound up in the hospital because of it.“ He turned to face Hakuba, smirking slightly, though it was directed inward. “He thought I was asleep, but I heard him. He’s proud of me because I’m his son, not because of how I act. People still talk, you think I don’t know that? But that doesn’t matter. If they don’t respect either of us, they don’t deserve any respect in return. And even though Oton still tries to control me, I know he’s doing it to protect me, not because he cares about what others think. Though it’s really annoyin’ an’ I wish he’d jus’ stop,” he grumbled, slipping back into Osaka-ben. “I’m a grown man, dammit, I don’ need him ta protect me.“ Heiji shook his head, switching back to English. “The point is, he’s your dad, isn’t he? Then he shouldn’t care how you act as long as you’re happy. If he does, then he doesn’t deserve any of the respect he has. And I don’t think a Superintendent General got to where he is without deserving respect.” Unless there were bribes involved, but he didn’t want to mention that; it’d anger Hakuba and everything he’d just said would be for naught. Plus, Heiji’d met the man, and he didn’t think there was a corrupt bone in his body.
Hakuba ate while listening to Heiji, taking mental notes on the things he said, how he said them, potential motivations for such, and so on. It was invaluable information, especially as Hattori seemed reasonably passionate and happy to be discussing this particular topic. This would help him understand the Osakan, and potentially in a much more positive light, even that, yes, he was being indulged with the English. And it was appreciated.
From what he gathered, it was clear that Hattori and himself had a lot of the same problems, but went about trying to solve the matters in entirely different ways. While Heiji and his father fought, Hakuba and his father got along reasonably well (except for the occasional awkward ignoring of elephants). Conversely, Hattori seemed to have a lot of freedom of expression and the approval/friendship of many, while Hakuba had fans and colleagues, but none who knew who he was. Not really. Just a puppet, a mask that looked good and honored the Hakuba name – despite the mixed heritage.
But which was the better choice? Hakuba settled on ‘neither’ with a side of ‘best to err on the side of caution,’ as always. Hattori’s outlook, while understandable, was immature and spoke blatantly about his age. But, that said, Heiji was a teenage boy – the son of a man in power, held to high standards and high pressure. It made sense. But it was still immature.
Hakuba sighed. “My father cares deeply about my happiness, and I’m relatively certain that he believes that I am. It’s not his fault that I don’t tell him a great deal about my life. He’s a very busy man, and I’d hate to burden him so. But the responsibility of my happiness rests on my shoulders, not on anyone else’s, and I can’t bring myself to ‘act out’ to feel better at the expense of others.”
They were going around in circles. The half-brit pursed his lips, thoughtfully. “Not that I don’t appreciate your advice, Hattori-san, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t at least a little bit envious of your freedom.” He took another bite, chewed, swallowed. “…And yes, to answer your question, this is wonderful. Thank you for the suggestion.”
He briefly wondered if speaking English so blatantly in the restaurant was a good idea, but at least it had stopped them from fighting. For the moment.
