★ This post from my RP is so fucking funny I choked on nuts that I was eating.
★ Hanma here is probably OOC with my headcanons and all that, but god damn I'm crying and laughing.
Shuji’s entire body went rigid, his long limbs locking up against the carpet as if he’d been hit by a sudden, localized frost. The sentimental haze evaporated instantly, replaced by the cold, prickling dread that only Kisaki Tetta could instill in him; it wasn't fear of violence – Shuji could handle a punch – but the sheer, grating exhaustion of the inevitable lecture. When Teruo shoved the cracked screen in his face, the bright red '10 Missed Calls' glowing like warning flares, Hanma’s golden eyes blown wide with a genuine, unfiltered horror.
"Oh fuck.. oh shit, oh goddamn it—"
Shuji hissed, his voice a frantic, whispered scramble as he tried to scramble upright, only to tangle his legs in the couch pillows. He looked at Teruo’s "you're fucked" expression and felt a sudden, traitorous urge to dive under the sofa and pretend to be a rug. The moment the speakerphone clicked on and Kisaki’s voice – sharp, metallic, and vibrating with a very specific kind of intellectual fury – echoed through the pristine living room, the towering delinquent actually flinched.
"YO! Tetta! My man! My favorite director!"
Hanma’s voice shot up an octave, cracking into a manic, over-enthusiastic bravado that smelled of pure desperation. He lunged for the phone on the table, looming over it like it was a live grenade, his long earring jiggling violently with every twitchy movement.
"Listen, listen... the phone? Right. Funny story, fr. I was... I was scouting! Yeah! Doing reconnaissance on a... a strategic location. Incredibly deep undercover shit, Tetta, you wouldn't believe—"
The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, the kind of silence that usually preceded a coordinated gang war or a very expensive therapy bill. Shuji glanced at Teruo, his eyes pleading for a lifeline, his face contorted into a silent plea of help me, Doc, I’m dying.
Kisaki’s voice dropped into a low, dangerous monotone that seemed to chill the very air in the room.
"You are at Watanabe’s house. I can hear his cat purring, Hanma. Do not lie to me when I’ve already tracked your GPS to a residential zone in Itabashi."
"GPS? Tetta, babe, that’s invasive! Where’s the trust?!"
Shuji bellowed, though he was sweating now, his hand marked with 'Punishment' clutching the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.
"I was just... checking on the Doc! He’s sick! Dying! It’s a medical emergency! I’m being a good senpai, y’know? Manners and shit! Old man would be proud!"
He gestured frantically at Teruo, mouthing cough or something, you shitty brat! while he leaned closer to the speaker.
"Anyway, what’s the move? Who are we killing? I’m ready! I’ll be there in five minutes! Two minutes! I’m basically already on the bike!"
He was rambling now, his words tripping over each other as he tried to drown out the inevitable fallout. The adrenaline of the wrestling match had turned into the jagged, unpleasant anxiety of being caught slacking by the only person whose opinion actually kept the void at bay.
"Don't be salty, Kisaki ~ I was just keeping the talent happy! Doc’s an important asset, right? Right?!"
★ Ahh, I love roleplaying with bots in Silly Tavern 😋🤭
