Work Text:
2.
This was his new workspace. No wonder why it was so gloomy. Chief Ushijima warned him, about the fact that he would be the only analyst around, for an unknown period. It seemed that his predecessor was long gone. This place lacked fun and sweet pastries, Sugawara thought. During a week or so he asked permission to bring a new sofa, comfier chairs, carpets, wall plants. It was the great spring cleaning and move in. After what he generously baked cookies for an army of gloomy employees.
“Sugawara-san sure is a kind person !” sneered Oikawa with a borrowed voice.
It was all part of some plan so even people he didn’t talk much too would side with him. Nothing evil. All soft shenanigans so he could settle down as smoothly as possible.
2.
Inspectors and Enforcers were coming one after the other to his desk, seeking for help. Sugawara was awe-stuck his own Crime Coefficient never wavered, stuck in his now cosy office, far from direct contact with any source of stress or violence. His Hue kept the light orange from his innocent days, not troubled by the muddiest tones.
“And you can only put all your faith in Sibyl so the other’s sacrifice makes sense.” He warned Terushima.
“More than uprightness, I would rather say that you trapped yourself.” He warned Ennoshita.
“You fear what comes after. If you can’t trust Sibyl anymore, you have to think by yourself. Do it old school.” He suggested to Kuroo.
“I hate seeing you here.” Sugawara admitted.
“Why ?” Daichi asked with a laughter.
“It means that tomorrow might never come for you.”
Sugawara wasn’t as beautiful as usual when he was screaming blue murder under a concerned expression.
2.
The kettle whistled. Sugawara slowly poured hot water into the teapot. When they were doing this job long enough, they would notice that people around them drop like flies. He emptied the water in a glass pitcher. Kuroo was observing closely his friend washing the tea leaves. Sugawara’s hands were going back and forth before his eyes so the water could flow so well in the teapot, then the pitcher and finally the cup. And new people turn in every so often.
He expected Sugawara to say something like “It’s like the natural order of life, always going forward”. But he kept the religious silence going, respectfully waiting for the leaves to impregnate the water. Kuroo may have uncovered his secret technique to keep his Psycho Pass so clean. Sugawara handed him an empty cup, the famous fragrance smelling one.
“It’s royal chinese pu-erh from 10 years ago, already a jewel of its kind.” He acclaimed, proud of the fine tea he was sharing with Kuroo.
“Y’know. Akaashi’s dead.” He felt bad to break the mood.
“I know.” Sugawara took a sip of his black tea. “... I know. It’s unfortunate.”
He took a look at a shelf full of small size goods and souvenirs, from Japan, from oversea, countries wasted and places unreachable now. Sugawara was used to put a something up there for each friend of the Bureau he lost.
“Guess I’m going to put an owl on this shelf now.”
“I got this.”