Chapter Text
Oikawa pushed open the door and stepped into the room, sunglasses still perched on his nose and a hand buried deep in his pocket. He pulled the glasses off and tucked the leg of them in the front of his shirt, allowing them to hang there, as he strode forward and threw himself down into a chair. He let his head loll against the back of the chair, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath. He heard the door open further but didn’t bother to open his eyes to check who it was - he already knew who it would be.
“How did it go?”
He hummed a noncommittal noise and received a cushion in the face in reply. Grabbing hold of the cushion and placing it behind his head, he resumed his position and closed his eyes again.
“My suit is ruined,” he groaned, running a hand through his rumpled curls, sprawling long limbs over the arms of the chair and casting sad eyes over in his friend’s direction.
“You idiot! Again? We’re not made of money, you know. If you’re going to burn through them so quickly, can you at least not insist on buying such expensive designer-” Iwaizumi tensed, twitching slightly as if trying to hold back from lunging over at Oikawa.
“Iwa-chaaaan, you just don’t understand. Those are integral to my image. And what do you mean we’re not made of money? If I really want, I could get these for free, I just want to keep giving back to society, you know? I’m a good person, Iwa-chan! And now my favourite suit is ruined, destroyed, murdered!” Oikawa huffed, tugging at a loose string by his shirt cuff.
“Yeah, sure you are. The Great Oikawa-sama, who gives ridiculous amounts of money to huge conglomerates already so rich in blood money that they really need that extra support.” Iwaizumi snorted, but took the bait anyway - Oikawa would never shut up if he didn’t at some point. “Go on then, I can tell you’re desperate to tell me - what happened?”
“You need to help me plan my revenge, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined.
“And why should I do that?” Iwaizumi raised a questioning eyebrow. “If you’re that upset about it, why don’t you change into one of your other suits and hand that one over - I can get it cleaned.”
Oikawa’s eyes lit up at the offer and he began to take off the suit jacket, folding it over his arm before doing the same for the shirt and proffering them to Iwaizumi, leaving him standing in his vest and suit trousers (for all he loved suits, Oikawa hated wearing ties). Taking the garments from his friend’s arm, he shook them out to assess the damage.
As he turned the shirt and jacket over in his hands he felt himself getting progressively more agitated. Finally, he looked up and glared at Oikawa.
“There’s literally nothing wrong with these,” he deadpanned.
“You don’t understand Iwa-chan! Everything is wrong with them! They’re completely ruined.”
“Well could you please explain to me how a perfectly intact and clean shirt is somehow ruined?”
Oikawa flopped dramatically back down into the chair, raising his forearm to cover his eyes and mumbled something that Iwaizumi couldn’t make out.
“What was that?” he asked, tapping his foot on the floor as he gradually lost patience.
Oikawa removed his arm from his eyes and gave him a long-suffering look.
“Tobio was wearing the same suit!” he announced dramatically, as if his world was crumbling around him.
Iwaizumi stared at him a moment longer and then promptly dropped both items of clothing on the floor and left the room.
---
Kageyama Tobio was just your normal college student. Absolutely and completely normal. He played for the college volleyball team, studied when (and only when) his deadlines forced him to, and had no clue what to major in. Sunday mornings always found him in the coffee shop closest to his apartment, desperate for the pure caffeine that is the only liquid running through any college student’s veins.
The soft, fragrant smell hit him as soon as he shoved open the little shop’s door, surrounding him with the promise of imminent liquid gold. The coffee here was the best in the whole of the city - its owner made sure of that.
“Akaashi-san! Please give me as many shots as you can fit into a mug.” Kageyama slammed his card down onto the counter, dark eyes unable to look away from the beans the black-haired man was delicately roasting in the back of the store.
A soft sigh and a slight shake of the head greeted his outburst, “College students - you’re all going to kill yourselves like this.”
If Kageyama were a more perceptive person, he might have noticed one side of Akaashi’s lips twitch up ever so slightly.
“I won’t give you more than three, you need to sleep more Kageyama-kun,” Akaashi admonished, reaching over to tap Kageyama’s card against the reader, before handing it back over with a hard stare.
Grumbling and blushing under the coffee-shop owner’s focused gaze, Kageyama mumbled about having been really busy over the weekend with stuff. Always vague, always so exhausted on Sunday morning, always a little mused - and not in a good way - Kageyama Tobio was an enigma that Akaashi worried about reading too well.
“You seem particularly tired today; did something worse than normal happen?” Akaashi set to freshly grinding a generous scoop of coffee beans. The soft rumbling of the machine and the rich aroma soothed the twitchy college student.
He set a cup down on the counter and Kageyama snatched it up, taking a sip of the liquid sleep.
“There was a volleyball tournament,” Kageyama responded, when he had finished inhaling his coffee.
“There can’t have been. You played in a tournament two weeks ago and I know there can’t have been another one so soon. I used to play you know.” Akaashi cast a troubled eye over the younger man.
“It was a friendly tournament.” Kageyama shrugged noncommittally.
Akaashi sighed. He really didn’t want to pry, but he was concerned about the young man. The dark circles under his eyes were becoming more pronounced with each passing week and the other day Akashi had found him passed out at one of the tables in the coffee shop, his face plastered to the keyboard of his laptop. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he was concerned.
“Come on, I may only serve you your coffee every morning, but I know how you act when you’ve been playing volleyball. It’s the only time you don’t ask for coffee. I swear you sustain yourself on exercise-induced endorphins for twenty-four hours.” Akaashi rubbed a hand across his face, and mumbled under his breath almost low enough for Kageyama not to hear, “and believe me when I know what it looks like when a guy is being sustained on pure adrenaline permanently.”
At that moment, as if by some sort of divine providence, the bell on the door of the coffee shop clanged as the door was forced open with far too much enthusiasm.
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.” Akaashi purposefully turned away from the door and began to busy himself grinding coffee beans, though Kageyama saw him visibly wince when the door slammed on its hinges.
Jerking his eyes up from where they’d been gazing longingly into the empty cup, as if, by force of will alone, he could refill it with life-giving coffee, Kageyama took in the man who had just entered the cafe. The loud bang of the door was somehow eclipsed by the sheer loudness of the man who’d made it (even though he was yet to speak). His very presence screamed ‘look at me’, from his styled hair to the stance he took, with his hands on his hips as though he owned the ground he was walking on.
Kageyama couldn’t control the gasp of surprise that slipped out. “Bokuto-san?” he spluttered. His exclamation almost drowned out by the booming greeting of the strange man.
“HEY HEY HEY!!!!!” His dual-coloured hair was so spiky it almost seemed to reach the ceiling when he rocked forward onto his toes and proceeded to advance towards the counter.
Akaashi resolutely showed no signs of having heard Bokuto at all. Instead he zeroed in his gaze on Kageyama, having heard his cry of surprise.
“Kageyama-kun, you know this lunatic?” Akaashi’s voice was cold and cut straight through the bustle of the cafe. Kageyama tore his eyes away from the newcomer and pinned under the dark gaze that met his, gulped audibly. “I’m really sorry Akaashi-san, I’ve got to dash, I have a meeting with my tutor - erm right now.”
Kageyama looked down at his wrist as if to emphasise his lateness (Akaashi noted that he wasn’t actually wearing a watch). Then all that was left of him was a swinging door, and a rush of cold wind. Akaashi shook his head in amazement; that boy really could run.
“Bokuto-san, I wonder if you happen know why Kageyama-kun has college classes on a Sunday? Since you two seem to know each other so well?”
He turned his attention to the exuberant man before him, who was now fidgeting back and forth, clearly uncomfortable about something. The change in his aura was dramatic. Far from the optimistic and dominating presence he had presented when he entered, he now looked almost melancholy. His hair seemed to be drooping and he was casting his gaze at the ground, as if he suddenly found his shoes very interesting.
Akaashi sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning and began to spoon some green tea into a teapot. Despite the fact that he found Bokuto incredibly annoying and would much rather he didn’t randomly invade the calm of his coffee shop, he was still a frequent customer and came in so often (much to Akaashi’s dismay) that he had his order memorised. Not that it took too much effort to do so, as in spite of his spirited personality and loud presence, Bokuto didn’t actually drink any coffee. So, Akaashi carefully poured the boiling water over the tea leaves and then slid the teapot and a cup and saucer over the counter toward the fidgeting man. Then he held out his hand expectantly - Bokuto was also the kind of person who paid in cash.
The coins dropped into his hand and he put them in the till, before leaning forward on his elbows and fixing Bokuto with a stare. The other man had yet to look him in the eye.
“So what brings you here today?” Akaashi asked as he rounded the counter to collect some of the empty cups scattered on the tables.
“Ah, it’s just close to where I work?”
“Really? I thought this was mainly the student area of the city.” Akaashi began to stack the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. As much as this idiot annoyed him with his almost constant energy and lightening fast mood changes, he was a loyal customer and it was fairly early in the day, so there weren’t too many other patrons in the small shop he could talk to. He hadn’t received a reply to his last statement, so he tried again.
“So, you know Kageyama, hmn?”
Bokuto once again looked resolutely anywhere but Akaashi.
“I’m just curious. He doesn’t seem to be the kind of guy who’d end up mixing with you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The exclamation came with some of his usual energy, but then he just seemed to deflate more than before.
God this guy was annoying. “I mean, fair enough, he's not exactly the most organised of kids, but he still seems to be mature for his age. You on the other hand - I wouldn’t put it past you to still be a college student.”
“I have a job!”
“I wasn’t disputing that, although you still won’t tell me what it is.”
“Why should I?” Came the petulant reply.
Akaashi raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. “Your tea has been brewing for a while now, by the way. If you leave it much longer, it’s going to get way too strong.”
Bokuto immediately snatched up the teapot and poured himself some of the steaming liquid.
“You know what, I honestly can’t believe you have a job. Whoever hired you must either be very brave or very stupid.”
“How about both?” Asked Bokuto, some of the mischief returning to his eyes.
“Pft, well whoever they are, I pity them.”
---
Somewhere else in the city, Oikawa sneezed.
---
Kuroo slammed a steaming cup of coffee down on his partner’s desk.
“Careful Kuroo! These documents are very important. I know you never bother with your paperwork, but at least some of us have to suffer to keep the higher-ups happy.” Daichi sent his friend the patented Daichi-Disapproving-Stare, which had served him well in his many years in the police service, against co-workers and criminals alike. However, despite his admonishments, Daichi groaned appreciatively when he took his first sip.
“Ah! The dreaded DDS! The Stare of Justice!” Kuroo floundered dramatically and Daichi almost threw the cup at his head, but unfortunately acts of violence were frowned upon in the police force (and he did really want that coffee).
“Loosen up Daichi! I was just trying to do something nice for our struggling sergeant, who had to stay up all night to work on that new case he won’t tell anyone else about.” Kuroo’s smirk was almost permanent, but somehow he managed to make it look concerned.
Daichi’s responding sigh was muffled as he’d buried his head into the endless towers of paper surrounding him. Daichi was no small man, but he sometimes he wondered whether he was being swallowed up by the consequences of his recent promotion.
“This new case is just a big one, and the informant we have needs a lot of protection which we’ve been struggling to organise, and it requires a ridiculous amount of legal paperwork.” Daichi takes another deep swig of coffee. “Thanks for this. I owe you one.” He cast an appreciative smile over at Kuroo.
They’d been working together for several years now, with Kuroo joining the force less than a year after Daichi. They were a great team, with one of the highest success rates in the area; Kuroo’s easy-going personality balanced Daichi’s seriousness, and, though they didn’t spend that much time outside of work together, Daichi would trust his partner with pretty much anything.
But this new case just didn’t sit right with him.
“Kuroo, there’s something strange about this new case. I need you to swear to me you will keep this absolutely confidential, no matter what, from absolutely everyone - Kenma included - alright?” Daichi levelled his eyes at his friend, trying to gauge whether Kuroo would actually take this seriously.
“Daichi, if it’s something that terrible, why have you been trying to bottle it up? That much stress isn’t good for you, you know? Just because you’ve been promoted, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to ask for help any more. We’re a team, Daichi-senpai.” Kuroo reached forwards, making grabby-hands motions, his smirk softening into a gentle smile.
“Yeah, of course we’re a team. Sorry Kuroo, sometimes I just get in my head a bit when I read this kind of stuff you know. You’d think after so many years in the force, you’d become jaded to it.” Daichi shook his head, and handed over one of the files.
Kuroo flicked through the thin file in silence, absorbing the information. He let out a weary sigh, lowering the paper to catch Daichi’s equally tired gaze. “A smuggling ring? We’re a small city, I didn’t think there would be something like this here - something as big as this?”
“It gets worse,” Daichi said, handing him a much thicker folder.
Kuroo’s trademark smirk disappeared as he scanned through the papers, brow furrowing deeper and deeper as he read. “This is the missing persons folder for the last six months. Have you worked out the connection? They’re involved in this smuggling ring? How could we have missed something this huge?”
“I don’t know.” Daichi rubbed his forehead, exhaustedly. “I really don’t know. And we would still have been in the dark without this informant.”
“Who are they?” Kuroo leaned forwards, clearly intrigued.
“I can’t say, because I don’t even know exactly who they are. Everything’s being kept so hush hush - it’s really strange.” Daichi drained the last of the coffee and tossed it perfectly into the bin beside his desk.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Daichi. Watch your back on this one.” Kuroo warned, hand slapping down hard on his friend’s shoulder.
There was a knock on the office door and both heads swivelled towards it at once. The door opened, and a head of silver hair poked through the gap.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything. The guy on the desk at the front said I could come through.”
Daichi’s anxious expression softened when he saw who was at the door, and Kuroo’s smirk returned.
“Well, I’m going to go and get lunch. Make sure you actually eat something today, Daichi.” Kuroo raised his hand in a small wave.
“Don’t worry,” the newcomer chimed in. “I don’t intend to leave until I’ve made sure that he’s eaten something.”
“Thanks,” Kuroo clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder as he left the office and swung the door closed behind him.
“I appreciate the concern, but you honestly don’t have to worry so much, Suga. I’ve been eating, I promise.” Daichi began to collect together the files on his desk, so he could slip them back into his drawer and out of sight.
“Daichi,” Suga’s voice was reprimanding. “You haven't been home in over twenty-four hours and I know for a fact that you didn’t bring any food into the office yesterday. You can’t live on coffee and energy bars.”
Daichi knew it was no use arguing.
Suga raised the paper bag he was holding in his hand and placed it down on the desk. He set down a paper takeaway cup next to it and then proceeded to pull a bundle of fabric out of the satchel hanging off his shoulder.
“Here - I brought you some lunch,” he said nodding his head towards the paper bag on the desk. “Oh, and I also stopped off at that coffee shop you like so much - no I didn’t get you more coffee, I can literally see the three empty mugs on your desk - it’s tea, and I grabbed you a muffin while I was at it.”
Now that Daichi thought about it, he was rather hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and that had just been a cereal bar and the banana that he’d left in his desk draw.
“Thank you,” he said earnestly, as he reached into the bag and pulled out a sandwich. Suga smiled at him as he watched him eat and then, remembering the folded fabric in his arms, set that down on the desk too.
“I also brought you a change of clothes. I thought you might want to freshen up a bit.” He gestured to the pile of fabric, that Daichi could now see was one of his spare uniforms.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Daichi asked.
Suga didn’t respond, he just came around the desk and planted a kiss in Daichi’s hair. Although, when he backed away he winked. “A shower wouldn’t go amiss either.”
“I take it back!” Daichi grouched, as he swatted at the hand Suga was trying to place on his shoulder. Suga laughed, and Daichi resigned himself to the fact that he couldn’t be mad at him. Then in a more serious voice he said, “thank you though. I’m glad you came.”
Suga searched his eyes and saw the worry in them; the deep-seated anxiety that had been present in the creases in his brow and the circles under his eyes lately.
“Can I help?” He asked, genuinely.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m sorry, this is still too confidential to talk about,” Daichi let out a breath. “I swear I don’t want to hide this from you, it’s just -”
“No, I understand,” Suga smiled. “If the most I can do is bring you lunch and a spare shirt then that’s fine by me. I’ll leave all the hard stuff to you and Kuroo.” He paused and placed both of his hands on Daichi’s shoulders, beginning to massage them gently. He was behind Daichi, so the other man couldn’t see his face, and didn’t see the frown that formed on his mouth or the furrowing of his brow.
“Daichi -” He couldn’t seem to finish the sentence. Daichi turned around in his chair to look up at Suga, although the other man had already schooled his expression.
“What is it?”
Suga stilled his hands, but didn’t remove them. “It’s just -” He let out a shaky breath. “From the way you’re acting, this seems to be really bad and I just - please be careful, alright. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Daichi stood up and wrapped his arms around Suga, letting him rest his head under his chin. He wasn’t going to back away from the case, nor was he going to stop investigating it, despite the obvious risk involved. But in that moment, as he felt the soft breaths on his neck, all he could manage to say was: “alright.”
---
Tonight we are victorious
Champagne pouring over us
All my friends were glorious
Tonight we are victorious