[Badou knows he is a lot of things; he's a stray dog, he's a loudmouth, he's a bad boy, he's trouble, he's a fuck-up, he's even maybe a little... a little sick, in the head, in his blood]
[but at the end of the day, he's also a thirteen -- fourteen -- year old boy, who just lost his brother (lost his life) to the darkness, and has more sorrow and anger trapped in his ribcage than he usually knows what to fucking do with]
[A few questions and statements run through his mind- What happened, why are you saying this, I'm sorry, but in the end, Gau was one to get to the bottom of the truth and fix things rather than dwell and let them worsen.
[Despite how inclined Gau was to solving problems now, he also wasn't going to keep Badou from working- something which kept him out of trouble and somewhat controlled, as it seemed.
Or so he believed. His voice is still soft, hesitant and questioning, even when he definitively says-]
...I won't, Badou-san.
[But he would ask about it, to someone who already knew and told him about it.]
[The same person who he'd leave the gift- a small cake, decorated with chocolate icing and nothing more- to. Hopefully, it would reach him.
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Re: [voice]
[but at the end of the day, he's also a thirteen -- fourteen -- year old boy, who just lost his brother (lost his life) to the darkness, and has more sorrow and anger trapped in his ribcage than he usually knows what to fucking do with]
[the redhead says only, a bit hollowly]
...I had normal birthdays.
[and now, now he doesn't.]
[voice]
He's quiet when he speaks, and unusually so.]
Why has it changed?
Re: [voice]
[he digs his fingers harder against the cut on his knee, feeling scabs rend apart]
I -- I gotta go, my break's over.
[that char's swallowed down to burn in his stomach again; like fuck he's going back to work now, with loss like a fever at his temples]
[it's phrased like a demand, but the belly-up vulnerability in it is obvious]
Fuckin' -- don't tell nobody. 'Bout my birthday. I'll kick your ass, yah?
[voice]
Or so he believed. His voice is still soft, hesitant and questioning, even when he definitively says-]
...I won't, Badou-san.
[But he would ask about it, to someone who already knew and told him about it.]
[The same person who he'd leave the gift- a small cake, decorated with chocolate icing and nothing more- to. Hopefully, it would reach him.
If it would do him any good at this point.]
Re: [voice]