Work Text:
Undercover missions, as of late, hadn’t been Haru’s favorite task. He used to get excited at the prospect of hiding in plain sight and taking the suspect by surprise, getting swept up in the action—everything about them made his job rewarding. At least until Daisuke joined the force and became his partner.
With Daisuke, undercover missions involved expensive suits, drinks, cars, and venues, and Haru could barely keep up. Yes, he did get to chase a suspect every once in a while, but it had lost its edge once Daisuke cut them off in an expensive car just before Haru could catch them.
Tonight, he hoped, would be different.
He and Daisuke sat in a booth at the dive bar their current suspect frequented. For once, Daisuke seemed to be out of his element. Well, as out of his element as he could be. He wrinkled his nose at every sip of his cheap whiskey, which was enough of a victory for Haru. He’d even gotten to instruct Daisuke on what an acceptable dress code consisted of: no suits. His partner had settled on a (very expensive) polo shirt and jeans. Daisuke still looked like a rich bastard, but not so much so that he’d stand out in this crowd.
Haru, in his usual work attire, calmly sipped at his sake, glancing around the bar for their suspect. 29-year-old Inouye Hiroshi was wanted for murdering a rival gang member. Arresting him could provide further leads for their cases regarding both gangs, making this the highest profile case Haru had worked in some time. He was surprised that the First Division detectives hadn’t snatched it up, but figured that they had more important cases to worry about.
“He’s here,” Daisuke muttered, taking another reluctant sip of his drink.
“Where?” Haru did his best to not look around too wildly, lest he draw attention to himself.
He spotted Inouye standing at the bar, ordering shots for himself and his friend in a boisterous voice that could be heard over the tinny speakers. It didn’t look like he’d given any thought to hiding the tattoo on his neck. He doesn’t suspect a thing.
“We should wait for him to get a few shots in before making a move,” Haru said, turning back to Daisuke.
“Agreed. You, on the other hand, should stop drinking.”
Haru scowled. “I’m not drunk! I’m not even tipsy.”
Daisuke nodded to the bottle of sake next to Haru. He’d drunk maybe one-third of it, if he was being generous.
“I’m not a lightweight. I guarantee you, I’m not impaired. At all,” Haru hissed. All the same, he didn’t want to risk any inebriation, no matter how slight, so he made a mental note to stop.
Sudden, loud laughter caught Haru’s attention. “Looks like we’re in luck. I think Inouye’s a lightweight.” Haru smirked at his partner. Okay, maybe the sake was having the slightest effect on him.
Daisuke narrowed his eyes. “He’s heading for the door.” He rose out of his seat, Haru following suit as they made their way to the alley behind the bar
Sure enough, the suspect and his friend were stumbling through the alley, singing a song so off-key Haru couldn’t recognize it. At least they’re in high spirits, he thought. He hated dealing with angry drunks.
He broke into a jog, Daisuke just behind him. “Police!” Haru shouted, pulling out his badge. “Freeze!”
Both men broke into sprints, perhaps not as impaired as Haru had previously thought.
“Damn it!” Haru started sprinting as well, much faster than Daisuke on account of his longer legs. He overtook the friend and pushed him to the side, leaving him behind for Daisuke to deal with. You don’t get out of manual labor tonight, bastard!
Haru rounded a corner, hot on the suspect’s heels, only to jump back when a knife swiped at him.
“Shit!” Haru aimed a kick at Inouye’s gut, knocking the wind out of him long enough for Haru to slam him against the wall.
Inouye retaliated with a head butt and a punch to the side. Haru used what little height he had on the man to pin him in place, ignoring the pain in his head and the dull ache in his side. He reached for his handcuffs, reciting the suspect's rights as if on autopilot.
He managed to drag the man back to the bar, where Daisuke was already waiting for the transport team with his suspect, who was counting a wad of cash. With his hands. Which were improperly secured in front of him.
“Did you- are you- you bribed him to get handcuffed?”
“Yes.”
Haru let out an exasperated groan, handed Inouye to Daisuke, and went to fix the handcuffs. And confiscate the cash. Not necessarily in that order.
“Oi, I earned that fair and square!” the friend protested.
“You’ll get it back,” Haru grumbled, tossing the wad of bills to Daisuke. He hissed as he unlocked the cuffs. The man had started to struggle immediately, making the pain in his side worse. “Cut it out, you’ve already been caught.”
The pain in Haru’s side persisted even after re-cuffing the second man. Oddly enough, it started stinging. He reached a hand down to massage the tissue, hoping to relieve some of the pain, when he felt something protruding from his side.
A knife. No, the knife Inouye had been using was embedded up to the hilt in Haru’s side.
Oh god. Haru’s vision started to waver, and he fell back on the alley wall. “Shit,” he breathed.
Daisuke appraised him with a single eyebrow raised. “Is there a problem with your balance, Katou?”
Ordinarily, Haru would recognize the jab at his possible inebriation, but in his current state, he simply shook his head. “No, I’ve just been stabbed, that’s all.”
Daisuke’s eyes widened, as close to confused as Haru had ever seen him. “Stabbed?”
“Yeah.” Haru opened his jacket to show him the knife, still in his side. “It’s starting to hurt,” he admitted. He started to tilt, having apparently completely lost his ability to stay upright.
Daisuke caught him under the arms, causing Haru to grunt in pain as he was lowered to the ground. Behind him, the two suspects had begun to nonchalantly walk away, still handcuffed. Haru raised a hand, pointing at them. “They’re getting away.”
“You’re injured.” Daisuke paid them no mind until Haru started trying to get up again. He sighed, and left Haru’s side long enough to catch up to them and knock them out with a well-placed punch on each of their heads.
When he returned, Haru had become engrossed by the blood on his hand. "There's not as much blood as I thought there'd be," he mused.
Daisuke crouched beside him. "The knife's holding everything in." He lifted Haru’s jacket, gently inspecting the wound, stopping when Haru hissed in pain. “It’s astounding that you didn’t feel it sooner.”
"Huh." Through the haze of pain, Haru suspects the adrenaline spike from the chase and the sake he’d drunk as the reasons he hadn’t noticed the entire knife sticking into his side. He’d tell Daisuke, but he’s pretty sure the multi-billionaire already knows. “Am I losing a lot of blood? I feel dizzy.”
“Not an alarming amount.”
“Very comforting, thanks.” Haru sighed. “I feel dizzy.”
“You already said that.” Daisuke didn’t sound concerned, but he sat on the sidewalk, fancy jeans and all, and lifted Haru’s head to rest on his thighs. “I might have to apply pressure to the wound.”
Haru closed his eyes, more comfortable now that his head wasn’t being cradled by cement. “Nah, transport’ll be here soon.”
“You’re slurring your words.”
“No, ‘m not.” Shit, maybe I am.
Haru exhaled through his nose, slowly. He felt Daisuke shift beneath him, then white-hot pain erupted in his side, making him cry out. He opened his eyes, feeling much more alert, and saw Daisuke leaning towards his torso, both hands pressing down on either side of the knife. “That hurts, Kambe!”
“There’s nothing I can do about that.” Daisuke paused a moment, glancing down at the wound. “You’re still bleeding steadily.”
“That’s cause you’re squeezing the blood out—” Haru cut himself off with a shout as Daisuke pressed down harder. “K-kambe, please!” Haru groaned, which soon dissolved into a dry sob. “Please, Daisuke, stop.”
Daisuke tensed beneath him. Whether it was from Haru using his first name after exclusively referring to him as “Kambe” or “bastard,” or from his begging, Haru couldn’t tell. Either way, Daisuke hadn’t lessened the pressure on his side. The pain died down to a more manageable level, anyway, so much so that Haru allowed himself to relax.
The last things he remembered before passing out were the flashing lights and siren of an ambulance approaching.
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“Katou, you were stabbed!” Kamei sighed, more exasperated than Haru had ever seen him.
Kamei was the latest member of the Modern Crime Prevention team to visit Haru in the hospital, the day after his mission had gone south. He’d escaped relatively unscathed. The knife, as he’d been told, was only three inches long, and had missed his large intestine by millimeters due to its angle of entry. That final fact had been cause for alarm for Chief, Saeki, and even Kamei. Haru didn’t understand. He’d been stabbed, got away with nothing more than a wound that would heal soon enough, and felt completely fine, aside from the pain in his side. He knew that that would lessen soon enough.
“Really, Kamei, I’m fine. I’ll be back to work in a few days. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Kamei huffed, clearly unsatisfied. He opened his mouth, but got interrupted by the door opening.
Daisuke, of all people, stepped into the room. “How are you feeling?”
Haru looked away, feeling embarrassed for some reason. “Fine.”
“I need to speak with Katou. Alone.”
Kamei stammered for a moment, before sighing and standing from his chair. “Sure. I have to get going, anyway. Get well soon, Katou!”
Haru managed a smile, but didn’t respond. He continued to avoid eye contact with Daisuke, even as he made his way to the chair beside Haru's bed.
“Thank you,” Haru mumbled.
“For what?”
Haru bit the inside of his cheek before continuing. “For making sure I didn’t lose too much blood. Putting pressure on the wound. Not listening to me when I asked you to stop.” Haru chuckled. “That last one only applies this time.”
“You could have died.”
Haru meets Daisuke’s eyes this time, surprised to see an expression of genuine concern on his face. “I didn’t,” he said lamely.
“You were lucky the ambulance arrived when it did. A few more minutes, and—”
“I’d rather not think about that,” Haru mumbled. “Everything worked out in the end, and I’m fine.”
“What about next time?”
Haru blinked. “What?”
Daisuke almost looked angry. “What about the next time you act so carelessly? Chase after a murderer by yourself?” He sat down, taking a deep breath to compose himself. Haru wasn’t sure when he’d stood up in the first place. “So, how much?”
Haru frowned. “For what?” he growled.
“For you to stop acting as though every life is precious except your own, Haru.”
Oh. Now he understood why Daisuke had tensed up yesterday. “I don’t—”
“Here.” Daisuke reached into his jacket pocket, producing the knife Haru had been stabbed with. “I paid the surgeon to give me this. Not an exorbitant amount,” he added, seeing Haru’s look of disapproval. “I hope it will remind you to take better care of yourself.”
Haru took it, held it by the hilt, and was taken aback by how small a three inch blade looked. It had been cleaned, of course, and he could see his reflection in the blade. It made him want to squirm. “I don’t want it.”
“Keep it. For me,” Daisuke said.
“Huh?” Haru’s head spun towards Daisuke once again. His brain felt as if it was short circuiting
Daisuke took Haru’s free hand in both of his. “I, for one, would greatly appreciate it if you took better care of yourself.” Haru could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating when Daisuke pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “So, keep it as a reminder that I want you to take better care of yourself.”
“Oh.” Haru’s mind buzzed, not allowing any coherent thought to form.
Daisuke smiled, and Haru noticed how human he looked for once. He gave Haru’s hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go and rising from his seat. “I’ll be back to visit you later today. And, Haru?” He paused at the door.
“What?”
“Ask the nurse for an anatomy lesson. It’s quite impossible for me to squeeze the blood out of you, as you so eloquently put it.” He shut the door before Haru could react.
Haru glanced at the knife once more before placing it on the table beside his bed, chuckling.
“That bastard,” he murmured, a wide smile on his face.