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1.
Enokida's skilfully endowed with a third eye, almost, observing what most blindly miss. And because his commissioned skills in gathering intelligence rely on the footprints and habits of his targets—their personal, dark, embarrassing, life-ruining receipts—he notices immediately.
He tells everyone who assumes otherwise that he doesn't live in internet cafes—which is true—but comes out of one nearly two entire days later. By this time, it's evening and rain is pouring.
Enokida peeks under his bright hood down the street for a clear place to stand and wait for traffic to lull; eyes weave between the polka-dot lights reflecting off the backs of wet cars and shimmering against the countless bustling umbrellas.
Eventually he recognises a not-so popular hairstyle on a man soaked in his oversized sweater, its whiteness dulling to melancholic grey. And beside him, the lengthiness of straight, blond hair on the man stylishly dressed in that iconic red skirt Enokida will never miss even from the corner of his eye. (Not even if, say, said man hoped to walk by with a small suitcase and impulsive plan to run away from home).
Enokida's muttered curse drowns under the rainfall.
Banba notices him, waves and hollers him down through the tunnel of cupped hands. He looks silly, soaking wet all the way through but giddy nonetheless to spot a friend in the street.
The city's greatest hitman and decent detective is all of a sudden a free-spirited man-child.
And now Enokida can't even pretend he hasn't seen them.
He wasn't trying to be incognito—bury in to his bright parka, quieten his steps in platform boots—but he's clocking out for the night, and if it's not about another target he needs to search up then it'll be about baseball. Ugh.
"You trying to hide from us, Enokida?" Lin asks purposefully.
"And why," Enokida drags down his zipper, revealing his himself, his clothes and a smirk. "Would I do that? We're friends, aren't we?"
"Yeah, until you sell one of us out for information."
"Come on. I always warn you guys, don't I?"
"It's true, he does." Banba smiles. "Hey, we're stopping by the supermarket for groceries—"
"You're buying groceries?"
"I'm making him." Lin corrects, "I'm sick of eating instant crap."
"Ah, right. He has to continually step up his game to keep you sweet, naturally."
"Shut up."
"Wanna tag along?" Banba asks.
Enokida thinks even he has plenty of time to kill doing something else than being their third wheel, but neither Banba nor Lin will catch on to what everyone in their circle already has.
So Enokida, mischievous and indifferent to intruding on lives, can't say he minds the chance to tease the clueless pair. "Grocery shopping. Yeah, sure. Why not?"
He can always do with buying more snacks as well.
So off they go, the three of them, to the nearest supermarket, like they aren't two assassins and a shady informant.
Even in their lives, there are times where they can behave like normal twenty-somethings, not ignoring their pasts but living despite it. And just how often, Enokida wonders about the pair, do they go shopping like this? Like a family.
Practically married.
Enokida tails behind them in a casual stroll, easily slotting in as the adopted son in this picture. There are relatively worse things to be—a number in the criminal line of work—so he doesn't complain.
He just watches them, waiting for intervals in their conversation to sneak bags of candy and packets of biscuits in to their trolley.
The conversation is about the diet Banba refuses to both part with or at least ease up on. When it's not his beloved pollock roe from a specific place, it's the same old instant ramen he treated Lin to when they first met.
So it's a little sweet, Enokida can see, if the diet's persistence is out of nostalgia. Some people really give a shit about that stuff.
"Augh, come on! You still owe me five years worth of it anyway!"
"Exactly, so you've got time to try something else."
Banba tousles his hair and stomps a foot.
"You're setting the bar really high for hitmen looking up to the Niwaka Samurai."
Banba stops, foot off the ground in mid-stomp, realisation on his face. "Ah, that's right. I can't be settin' a bad example for our Lin-chan."
"Not me, Banbaka, I can take care of myself!"
Banba knows he can but smiles and pats his head anyway; he's taken to the idea of caring for another person now, and he doesn't want to regress any time soon.
Lin smacks the affectionate hand away, but the glare he usually reserves for annoyances like this is notably tamer. Maybe he's settled in to it now, some time after coming back home to his newfound family of friends, hobbling on a sore ankle and broken heel but no-less proud.
Enokida smirks, "What's this, Mom and Dad are fighting? Not cool."
"Shut up. It's nothing like that." Lin says.
Banba points to himself, "Wait, which am I?"
Lin's composure to outright being paired with the likes of Banba drops with his heel on to smooth, glossy tiling, "What did I just fucking say?!"
Banba laughs like the simpleton he daylights as, figuring it's the best way out of an argument.
It apparently is, seeming to at least settle Lin's frustration a enough to put an impulsive murder aside.
"I'll head to the next aisle and pick us up some ramen."
"Fine. Do what you want."
"See ya soon." Banba waves, walking down to the end of the aisle, but stops before he disappears around the corner, with an incredulous expression. "Why the heck aren't you saying it back?!"
"You're going to the next aisle, not the goddamn army."
"Still!" Banba says, and his head is the last to disappear round the corner.
Enokida says, "Be honest, Lin-kun, you'd miss him if he really did leave."
"And you," Lin reaches in the trolley and takes out one of the bags of candy, "Don't think for one second I didn't see you throwing this shit in. You expect us to just buy this for you?"
'He said 'us' instead of 'me'.
Enokida barely erases his grin as he clasps his hands, "But, Mom~" he actually whines, and then misses the bag of sweets chucked at his head.
2.
They run in to Saruwatari, and like every time they do, he issues a challenge.
He points his long sword at Banba, uncaring that he's currently on the lookout for his target, and that they'll be seeing each other in a few hours for another baseball match like none of this is even happening.
"Oi, since you're not bleeding like a waterfall now, you better be ready!"
"Have you been waiting here for me all this time?"
"It's a coincidence!"
Banba thinks about, scratching his head, "I dunno."
"If you've got time for a date then you've got time to fight!"
He's confident this fight won't end like the last, with him hanging off the side of the building and being saved. At the same time, even with all the practice he puts in to his ninja gimmick, his weapons love to switch their trajectory and humiliate him.
"Date?" Banba looks behind at Lin leaning against metallic railings and feels guilty. "I've said this before but it's too sad to leave him alone."
"I can take care of myself."
"Still."
Lin would appreciate that if it wasn’t making him out to be a dejected puppy. “You don't really want to fight and exhaust yourself before your target. How unprofessional. He won't take you seriously."
Banba turns to Saruwatari, "There you have it. Even Lin-chan's worried ‘bout me fighting you."
"I'm worried that I'll be tarnished by association and have to disappear." Lin flicks hair off his shoulder dismissively and starts walking away, "Do what you want."
"He says that but I know he's mad. Sorry, guess I'll see you later."
Saru stares at them as they leave together, dumfounded. "What even are those two?"
Naoya, who had been waiting by the car all the while, smiles and says, "It's what today’s youths call 'domesticated' when non-couples act otherwise."
"The hell?" Saruwatari side-glances him, "Well don't get any ideas from that, 'cause married couples sure as hell wouldn't betray each other, Nao!"
Naoya's smile is weary, "But they sure like to bring up their partner's mistakes."
3.
Lin takes the time to look in the nicest shoe store for replacement heels after his unfortunate run in with his ex-best friend, and Banba just so happens to want to accompany him.
The employee, a tight-smiling lady with a tight hair-bun, greets them at the door, "Hello, welcome. How may we help you today?"
Banba smiles back, holds Lin by the shoulders, "My partner's here to buy shoes."
"Duh." Lin says, fidgeting under the touch. When the hands don't move, he hisses, "Idiot, you’re gonna give her the wrong idea.”
“What? We work together.”
The employee directs them to a selection of heels to the back of the store, a big, rounded couch near in front, “We have a new selection just shipped in this morning. Please take a look."
Lin takes the first pair that catches his eye, not mindful of their price and just bothered by how they feel and look. A red pair, with a small and study heel.
He sits down to try them on but Banba beats him there, his hands cupping the broken shoe and pulling it away.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"Helping." Banba slots a red shoe on.
Lin struggles to be as mad as she should, because he looks down at his foot in the new shoe and he's sold. "I don't need help putting on shoes! Why did you come along anyway?! Not like you're into fashion."
"Why not? You shy?"
"Don't talk nonsense."
“Oh, look who it is.” The voice of a different man greets.
"Small world." adds a little girl.
Banba and Lin turn at the same time to the entrance where Misaki and Jirou have just entered.
“The hell are you guys doing here?!” Lin flusters, caught between taking his foot out of Banba's hands and going along with it confidently, daring anyone to say something.
Jiro says, “Misaki’s school shoes are a bit too small for her now, so we’re here to buy new ones.”
Misaki kneels beside Lin's feet to inspect the new shoes, "These are really pretty.”
“Yeah," Lin agrees. “I'm gonna buy them.”
“They suit you, and they match your skirt.”
“Thanks—"
“But they’re so last season.”
“Listen, half-pint, you just said they look good on me, so who cares?!” He does, even just a bit, but admitting it means he doesn't stay on track with the latest fashion like he sometimes claims.
“You do, apparently. You’re turning red.”
“Shut up!” Lin looks to the side, “Hey, Banba, these look good on me, right?!”
“You askin’ me?" Banba inquires. "Thought I wasn't into fashion?"
“Just say it!”
“Lin-chan, you look good in those.”
“Say it like you mean it, that was pathetic!”
“Boy, Banba’s got it rough.” Misaki observes. “Married life seems bothersome.”
Jiro smiles, partly relieved to know his little girl isn’t in a rush to grow up and be married off. “Yeah but it’s not all bad. They have good times too. If it was easy, it’d seem less worthwhile.”
“Like torturing someone.”
“Exactly.”
“Jose got a real kick out of that last one.”
“He sure did.”
Lin grabs Banba by a handful of his sweater and shouts at him for being so clueless. Then Banba laughs, says something weird about baseball and proceeds to be shouted at even more.
Misaki says, "These two aren’t painting a good picture of the ideal family.”
Jirou laughs and shakes his head, “Actually, they’re pretty close.”
4.
Saitou works the night shift in a convenience store. Nothing grand about it beside the slushie. It's an honest job for an honest man like himself now he quit Murder Inc for hitmen.
But tonight, he gets a rather strange call. Ordinarily a man is requesting microwaved pizza to be delivered.
Diced he emphasises, and although it's just a convenience store and Saitou assumes he means the toppings and figures he can do that much.
He heats up pizza, dices the toppings with the sharpest knife and goes on his merry way to the given address.
He probably should've read more in to how the guy said diced. Like he was grinning sickly, trying to restrain the biggest laugh.
When Saitou arrives, drops the pizza off and tries to leave, one of the men present keeps him, asking for details on his dicing skill. "Eh? Well it's really simple. I take the sharpest knife I can find, place it under my palm as a cushion. I watch closely so I don't accidentally cut myself—"
He notices an unconscious man, tied up, mouth taped shut. He gets an unfortunate sense of deja vu and pieces together that these guys are assassins.
"What's wrong? You suddenly shy?"
"C-Can I use your bathroom?"
"Oh, you wanna prepare first huh? You professionals always were extra. Okay. And hey, if you're still insecure, don't worry. I told the guys the store has the best guy."
Best guy? So the store employee before Saitou knew about this and actually did it?!
"T-Thanks." Saitou staggers past.
"But if you take too long, we'll have to dice you up." The man laughs and his men laugh.
Saito laughs a bit too hard, and they all stop.
He closes the door, takes out his phone and calls his emergency contact. "Hello, Lin-san?!" he hurriedly whispers behind a hand, "I need help!"
By this point, his calling to be rescued from an unfortunate situation is standard.
"Where are you?"
Saito gives his address from the scrawl on the pizza box receipt. He doesn't think he has a preference between who helps him but he notices he's actually relieved it's Lin.
"Hah?! What the hell are you doing all the way there?!"
Well it is late in the evening, Saitou thinks, looking at the clock in the bathroom that's also alerting him to the fact that five minutes have passed since excusing himself.
"Sorry! I thought it was a regular delivery but..." He talks quieter, afraid he'll be heard and killed on spot. "These guys are really bad! They want me to chop someone up!"
“So just tell them you’re not interested.”
“Like hell I can! They’ll probably kill me if I try to leave!”
“God-fucking damn it.”
“I’ll pay you for the trouble!”
"Not you." Lin groans, "I'll have to switch shoes since you're so far."
"Oh, sorry?" Saitou wouldn't know anything about women’s fashion and the restrictions they can bring. Honestly, he's always been impressed that Lin can run, leap and kill in heels.
"Give me a minute."
At the door being banged on by a heavy fist, Saito cowers.
"What's taking so long?" The guy from earlier asks impatiently.
"S-Sorry! Won't be long now!" Saitou replies. He waits for the sound of retreating footsteps before putting his phone back by his ear, "Lin-san?!"
"Hey, my low platform shoes with the small bows. You seen them?"
Saito hears another man groan, stirred from sleep. "You're askin' me? Strange hour to be questioning about shoes."
"Banbaka, I don't have time!"
"Should be over there."
"Where the fuck are you even pointing?!"
"Can't see nothin' with the lights off."
"Open your damn eyes first!"
"If I recall, didn't we use 'em the other night for—"
"Got them!" Whatever was about to be mentioned, Lin interrupts with discovering his appropriate shoes for the distance. He says in to the phone while putting them on, "On my way."
Saito thanks him and prays to still be alive by the time Lin arrives. But rather than just fretting over his life, wondering about the unconscious man in the next room left like a lamb to the wolves, he replays the conversation and can't be sure if he was speaking to Banba and Lin: the detective and hitman, or a newly wedded couple?
5.
It’s not unusual for Lin to return home dressed up, but unlike most days, he’s very dressed up: a long-sleeved, knee length, white dress with a bow belt tied round the waist, heavy jewellery around his neck, and his hair is up in a bun and secured with a nice piece of jewellery.
He’s returning from his latest job: posing as a beauty pageant contestant to assassinate the crude backstage guy secretly abusing the contestants and telling them they’ll be disqualified if they tell anyone.
After making it to the final round and confirming the culprit, Lin stabbed him and left.
He sits with Banba in front of the TV, watching the news cover the Beauty Pageant incident, and then the winner.
Lin starts ranting, “Like hell she won! That woman was fake in every possible way, and had a rotten personality! How did she beat me?!”
“You weren’t really a contestant.”
“As far as they knew, I was!”
“Can’t be helped. You left after you killed the guy, right?”
“Obviously but still." Lin frowns, folding his arms. “She was a bitch to me back stage.”
“Don’t be worryin’ about that, Lin-chan. You’re a ten in my eyes.”
“The last thing I want to be ranked in is Banba Zenji’s books.” Lin comments and, with a tired sigh, lets his hair down from its bun.
“Good work today.”
“I’m tired.” Lin kicks off his shoes, takes off his necklace and paces it on the table, then curls up on the couch, head away from Banba on the other arm rest.
“Not even gonna bathe before you sleep?”
Lin kicks him harshly, “Says the guy who didn’t even have a bath installed until I came here.”
“You can’t be comfortable like that.”
“Too tired to care.”
“I see. Hey, Lin-chan.”
“Yeah?” Lin answers but hears nothing. He peeks an eye open and Banba is just smiling at him. He kicks him again.
Banba pulls out the blanket usually kept on the sofa. “This’ll be cheesy coming from the Niwaka Samurai and all, but…” He unfolds it to fall over Lin, covering him from his neck to his ankles, “I’m glad you think your life's worth living now.”
Glad that he gets to live his own life fully with, as Lin himself put it, ‘idiots who he can talk about idiotic things with’. He’s more than just his knife and the count of bodies he’s racked up in his profession.
They all are, Banba thinks, himself and his friends.
“Didn’t have much choice since I owe you five years worth of food.”
“Mm, and I’m looking forward to it.”
Lin throws the covers over himself, “Let me sleep already!"
“You know our friends think we’re like a married couple.”
“They can fuck off.” Lin says but reconsiders, staring at Banba and contemplating their odd situation—because it is quite odd. “I mean, it’s our business how we live and I just happen to live with you ‘cause it’s easier since we usually get jobs together.”
“Don’t gotta be telling me. I got no problem with this here living arrangement. Just givin’ you a heads up so you know what to expect when we see them again.”
“I got other shit to worry about. Our so-called friends thinking we’re married is so far down the list, don’t you think?!”
“I do.”
“You said it like that on purpose didn’t you?!”
“You may now sleep in holy mat—”
Banba gets a pillow to the face and, seeing Lin close his eyes with a frustrated expression, decides to leave things there before he winds up in deep trouble.
"Night, Lin-chan. See you in the morning.”