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Two days after Haru is demoted to Modern Crimes Prevention Task Force from the exemplary Division 1, Haru put a bullet to four different men in the short span of twelve minutes.
He idly replaces the empty magazine with a full one of his standard-issued H&K USP because he lost eight rounds earlier with his non-fatal and warning shots that admittedly spilt blood, but Haru still thinks that they should be grateful that they only sustained a bullet wound with their life intact.
They’ll all be arrested anyway, maybe tortured to extract information. His Team’s kind of filled with trigger-happy nutcases and Haru should have no right talking to them like that because he’s one of them.
His earpiece crackles back to life, his Denpa-Bu partner for today hissing at him to start running because about ten men are coming to the room he’s in at about one-hundred twenty six seconds.
“God, just say two minutes and six seconds.” Haru says, running and pulling back the slide of his gun at the same time.
“Shut the fuck up, Gold. Ten meters ahead, two men incoming with SIG Sauer P226, right turn. Twenty meters ahead after that is the emergency exit.”
“Right-o.” Haru replies cheerily and ducks down as he turns on the corner, surprising two of the men he encountered, and the four dead people increased to six. The Emergency Exit sign overhead in glowing neon red partially lights up half of the corridor and Haru bursts out from it with the grace of a baby deer.
“Climb up two floors on the emergency stairs. Two men each are stationed per emergency exit so be prepared as you climb up. Same gun model for each of them with three extra magazines in their holsters. ETA of Helicopter is in fifty seconds to pick you up. Don’t be late.”
Haru climbs up two steps at a time and shoots just as fast. In forty-four seconds, his body count is now officially ten and he’s now waiting on the rooftop with six seconds to spare. He can see the helicopter coming close, and they just throw him a rope ladder to climb up to. Haru catches it as it rolls down, and the helicopter flies away from the building with Haru precariously hanging by the rope, literally.
“Good job, Gold.” His Denpa-Bu buddy says, after one of the men riding the helicopter offered him a hand so he could get in and they could pull up the billowing ladder. “Mission accomplished at 0314. You can probably sleep for three hours without interruption. Congratulations.”
“Wow,” Haru says dryly, “Three hours! Amazing.”
“I can hear your sarcasm, Gold. You’re expected back in the headquarters at 0320 hours with the equipment, then you can go home. Take an actual vacation if you’re complaining, for fuck’s sake. Don’t be like Red who got his legs broken by Indigo because he won’t take a break. Do you want your vacation to be in Medical?”
Haru shudders, “Jesus, no. Medical hates me. They strapped me on the bed when I broke my arm last year. Why would you strap someone in bed with a broken arm, 03? Is that justifiable?”
“It’s standard precaution with you ALPHAs.” C1-03, or 03 for short, replies to him blithely, “All of you always attempt to skedaddle the fuck out before they even clear you out. What’s Medical supposed to do with you lot, eh?”
“I can see your point but it’s kinda excessive. Heard Orange say that they put her in a straightjacket when she said that she wanted some fresh air.”
“And I’m sure Orange wasn’t going to bolt out of the Med Bay and disappear after catching some fresh air, right?”
Haru opens his mouth to reiterate and closes it after a moment, because 03’s right and Orange would be running for the hills instead of the garden for that fresh air.
“Look,” 03 says with the patience of a parent guiding their child to do the right thing, “Medical hates you all just as how all of you hate Medical, okay? It’s mutual, and back to my main point, you should get that vacation before Indigo offers one for you, spent in Medical.”
“Maybe in a year.”
“Gold.”
“Or three.”
03 sighs as if removing all the air from his lungs—it‘s an extremely long sigh, all for Haru and his stubbornness, “No wonder 43% of ALPHA agents had ‘Overwork’ in their COD. I actually ran the stat for this, you know.”
“Hi pot, I’m Kettle. It’s 3 in the morning and you’re still on your desk, and after this, you’ll probably come back to work at 7 sharp.”
“Deflection tactics doesn’t work for me, kid. Try again when you’re ten years older. Not like I’m risking my life out there being a secret agent. I’m behind my desk, growing fatter with these sugary donuts.”
Haru sweeps a look at the headquarters below, the helicopter ready to land on the helipad, “Good night, 03. You’ll still tell me to grow ten years more when I’m 40, asshole. You told me the exact same thing when I was 18.”
03 barks a laugh in his earpiece, and tells him fondly, “Goodnight, Gold. Be a good cop and catch some baddies in your day job.”
“The only baddies I can catch in my new Division are dust bunnies.” Haru replies and turns the comms off. He hops off the copter and removes the earpiece, putting it inside the briefcase where his ammos, gun, and other assorted equipment he took for the job are in, jogging to the Engineering Dep’t to hand the equipment back and hopefully get that three hours sleep.
One of the headquarters personnel drives him back to his dingy, 300 square meter apartment, disguised as a taxi driver. Haru dozes off as the blurry sight of city lights flashes by the window, and when he manages to get back home, flops off to his bed with his shoes on.
It all started because Haru is a justice freak.
At 16, Haru is a law-abiding citizen like the majority of the Japanese populace, but with a penchant of getting his nose stuck in businesses that aren’t his from time to time because Haru just had to get involved, you know? He can’t stand it—inaction makes him break out in hives.
Then he saved a secret agent from the Super Secret Government Organization™ under Special Forces Group (SFGp) called ALPHA, and also did the job for the poor agent dude, and after thirty minutes, he found himself facing a lot of people presumably of high position in the Government. An hour of controlled agreements, disagreements, hushed screaming, and general resignation, Haru became a trainee for ALPHA.
ALPHA’s agents are color-coded—working as their code names while on the field. While Special Forces Group (SFGp) is under Japan Ground Self-Defense Force (JGSDF) as the counter-terrorist unit, ALPHA is SFGp’s literal corps d’elite. ALPHA agents are trained individually to be the best of the best that the counter-terrorist unit could offer, sending them off to assignments out and inside Japan for country and all that nationalistic shtick.
Two years of rigorous training in various stuffs that are important to glorified spies, Haru at 18 became “Gold” and is duly given an impeccable record in the system while covering up the behind-the-scenes. Directorate for Signals Intelligence should be thanked for their hard work for that. With the acronym of DFS, or Denpa-Bu, which means “Electromagnetic Section” in Japanese slang, DFS members are the ones who provide the intelligence needed for the assignment to the ALPHA.
On field, they’re referred to as “C1-[individual number]”. Controlling surveillance, analyzing floor plans and thermal map to see enemies and targets ahead, C1 members are, at all times, connected to the ALPHA operative mid-assignment to guide them to complete it, so that the operative won’t up and die.
Eight years after that, Haru became a promising rookie to the Metropolitan Police Department’s Division 1 and two years in, he’s told by his superiors in ALPHA to be in MCPTF for some vague reasons that will be revealed in due time. Haru can see that his superiors are hesitant and unsure, despite those cold, impeccable facades on their faces, and it makes Haru anxious himself.
What’s so important in MCPTF, a Division regarded as paper pushers, that Haru has to be relocated there?
Nonetheless, Haru cozies himself with the Division members, who still regard him as an outsider with similar pity in their eyes, but with more acceptance and humbleness than the entire Divisions of the Police Department. A few months work of vying for their trust and he has now blended with them fully, becoming one of their own, and despite the boredom, Haru finds himself more comfortable in their presence than the two years he spent in Division 1.
Reading old case reports and how it’s poorly done and closed also helped him kill his time because truly, it’s like reading comedy, and he can also sleep in work which is a huge plus! One to two hours sleep in the night and five hours at work everyday? He loves MCPTF. MCPTF is his new haven.
Nine months in, and he finally finds out why he’s in MCPTF, as the arrogant scion of the Kambe family introduces himself as a new Inspector of the Metropolitan Police Department and blows off smoke from his fancy tobacco on Haru’s face rudely. Haru follows after the other Inspector like a duckling following its Mama duck, and ultimately, falls off the bridge because the scion is an asshole.
Haru picks up his comms, demands for the C1 member of the day if the reason why he’s placed in MCPTF is the Kambe heir, and gets an affirmative after twenty-seven minutes of aggravating silence. Then he texts his fellow ALPHA member Indigo, the limb-breaker, the one who hates Medical the most out of them all to the point that she’s happy to send someone else there, that her brother is an asshole.
She texts him back one smiley emoji, a machine pistol emoji that shouldn’t be in the android emoji list, pointed to the right, an explosion emoji, and an emoji with its soul leaving, all in the following order. Haru has never been so scared of four emojis in his life.
He completes his assignment within two hours and steals an unopened VOD-K Caramel & Truffle off the sealed liquor shelf because he actually liked that stuff, as all do other sweet alcoholic drinks because as Red had told him once, Haru is a heathen who only likes alcohol that has something else sweet mixed in because Haru usually hates the nasty taste and the accompanying burn of the standard alcoholic drink.
Haru does not care because why should he? At least he enjoys his drinks to his heart’s content.
He drinks the alcohol with a bucket of cheap chicken he bought from a food cart, and watches TV until he falls asleep. The next day, the Kambe heir officially introduces himself as a member of the MCPTF, and Haru glares at him and speaks of justice and inwardly hopes that Suzu—ahem, Indigo, wouldn’t take a lick of action towards Haru because Haru actually doesn’t want to spend his vacation in Medical, okay?
He does actually think that Kambe’s actions are practical. No one loses anything except Kambe and his unlimited account, anyway. He’s always number one in Forbes, Governments defer to him, his adoptive sister is an ALPHA agent whom are actually high in rank in the Army and highly prized, and both of them could probably take over the world if they tried.
Practical but not ethical. Not that Haru should be the one to talk, considering that he kills people every night in his short assignments. Haru should probably be ashamed of the man he became because this is definitely not what Haru had in mind when he’s a wee teenager who wanted to be some hero of justice in this modern age of corruption, but well, Haru’s seen some things.
Things that makes him think that the end justifies the means. Maybe he’s become jaded and bitter, and possibly he could fault his long-term sleep depravation too while he’s playing this blame game by himself.
So, they become partners, in name and hopefully in effort too. Haru shows his fake bravado and leaves with Kambe trailing after him and they spot two comedians by the street. Just by their body language and state of physique, Haru could figure out that they’re on drugs and Kambe seems to have caught on too, leaving a bill for them and asks them about the drug, and Haru secretly gives the Kambe heir brownie points.
Haru texts Indigo this, and Indigo texts three heart emojis back. Haru snorts and chews on the toffee he nabbed on one of the servers in his mouth, the taste of blood mixing with it. He flicks a tongue on his injured gums and steps on the dead bodyguard who managed to land an uppercut on him. Thank god for his sturdy jaws because he’ll have a trip to Medical otherwise.
His mood still descends down, however.
The next day is actually surprising. Kambe interrogates one of the comedians, bribes him with money, and leaves when they get a lead on the suspect. Mita Akira, Haru’s “informant” in many ways, because C1 members are all informants anyway, joins them and they do the boring stakeout and eat noodles.
They do stakeout when they can, and eventually, Kambe stops showing up. While in their stakeout, he sees Isezaki interacting with a woman very familiar to Haru and while the woman and Isezaki are talking, a text comes in on Haru’s phone. Predictably, it’s Suzue, with a “come have dinner at my house” that looks more threatening than it is inviting, and so, Haru finds himself on the Kambe mansion’s door step.
The Kambe butler greets him and so does Kambe Daisuke, who leads him up. Haru doesn’t say a word this time, but he can see that Kambe Daisuke is amused. Must be because he thinks that Haru thought that Suzue is another suspect related to Isezaki and followed her home.
He’s greeted by Indigo, stripped of her usual sharp attire as an ALPHA agent and left on her workshop clothes, and Kambe Daisuke introduces her to Haru and Haru wants to dissolve into a puddle to escape.
“Let’s have dinner, yes?” Suzue says enthusiastically, and Kambe raises an elegant eyebrow at her sudden excitability, but agrees. Both Kambe and Haru glance suspiciously at her.
The dining room is lavish, and the only one serving them their food is the butler. Haru remembers Suzue saying once that she and her brother trusts no one outside their family but their butler, who had been serving their family even before she’s born.
The long table is half-filled with foods from around the world that Haru likes, simple as they may be. Kambe is looking at the table with badly concealed curiosity, then turns to his sister who’s visibly vibrating on her own seat. Even the butler looks mildly concerned at her eagerness.
“You look extremely happy.” Kambe observes and voices his thoughts, taking a bite of his ridiculously small serving of Foie Gras and drinking red wine that must have been a 1700.
Suzue claps her hands together, starlight shining in her eyes, “Of course I am! I’ve been waiting for a long time for this!”
A terrible feeling squeezes Haru’s innards that even the Spanish Paella with extra beans just the way Haru liked it didn’t register much to Haru’s taste buds.
“A long time?” Kambe asks, or pushes really, because a few days of introducing Haru shouldn’t be a long time at all, or that’s what Haru thinks he’s thinking.
Haru nervously sips his Irish cream because of course, Suzue knows about his sweet and mixed liquor preference, and then regrets it because Suzue is evil incarnate.
“My brother and best friend, meeting for the first time! Ahh, I’m so happy I might explode! I never thought this would happen but I never stopped hoping!” Suzue exclaims, cupping her cheeks and dreamily closing her eyes in ecstasy.
Haru chokes on his Irish cream, and he sees the butler halt from pouring Kambe another round of his wine and Kambe himself doesn’t look like he registered the information yet, smile frozen on his face.
There’s a glint in Suzue’s eyes and Haru knows that she timed it well, picking the moment when Haru would drink. Fucking sadistic Indigo who looks like an angel and is anything but. Haru regrets ever mentoring her and befriending her. He should’ve left her on the Alaskan wilderness four years ago instead of looking around for her in mind-numbing worry.
Haru can feel an incoming headache.
Kambe looks at Haru oddly and says, “Your best friend? I was not informed that you and Katou-san here have such close relations.”
‘I would have known.’ goes unsaid. The butler pours the wine again, albeit with slight shaky hands that is easily dismissible due to its subtlety.
“Of course I have, Daisuke! Haven’t I regaled you with many stories about him and my fellow comrades-in-arms? Ah, I may have referred to him in his code name, however.”
Understanding flashes in Kambe’s eyes and Haru sees the moment that Kambe has connected the dots. The butler also understands the implications and blinks at the absurdity that the unkempt man in front of his wizened eyes may or may not be a secret agent of the highest caliber like his young mistress.
Kambe regards Haru in a new light and Haru squashes the part of his brain that contemplates murder and eats his paella in silence while shooting Suzue the most driest and judgmental stare that has made many agents buckle under the pressure and fold within themselves in shame.
Suzue beams at him unrepentantly.
“Is this because of last week? When I cancelled for Rome? Because it’s 08’s fault. You know I’m not given international missions due to some conflicts, right?” Haru says in one breath and knows with clarity that that’s as good as a confirmation to the other two… normal citizens who probably has higher clearance than any normal citizen.
Suzue’s smile drops and she glares at him from across the table, “Of course it’s about last week! I was looking to have a good time with you in Rome but then 03 told me Silver’s going to be my partner for the assignment! When I’m already heading for Rome in the plane!”
She further makes her point known by slamming a palm against the table. The butler looks on in shock, and Kambe himself doesn’t look surprised by her actions and outburst, but by the words spewed from her mouth instead.
“Again, 08’s fault.”
“But we haven’t hung out in ages! I keep pressuring C1 to at least hand off an assignment with both of us working together and that Rome one was the only one that came in! Such injustice!” She stabs at her filet mignon like it’s Haru she’s stabbing, and Haru knows that she must want to stab Haru for a while now and is simply holding herself back, which is impressive, really.
Haru is proud. Haru might shed a tear.
“You must have really missed Katou-san then, Suzue?” Kambe says, looking mightily interested in their banter, like Christmas just came early. Haru’s hoping that he’d be more shocked and if he’s not, more disagreeable with his sister’s choice of obsession, but Haru’s clearly in over his head since the Kambe scion looks more ready to support and god forbid, add to it.
Haru can barely handle one Kambe, no thanks.
“I do! It’s been three months since we’ve had an assignment together.”
Haru exhales in defeat, “Aren’t I already here, eating with you and your brother?”
Her gloom scatters like dark clouds after the rain, finally showing the bright sun, lighting up her face prettily, “That’s right! Now that Daisuke knows, I’m sure we can hang out as ourselves!” She claps her hands again and Haru can hear it like he can hear his doom barelling at full speed, “That’s right, Haru. You haven’t taken your vacation, right?”
Haru feels panic welling up inside him like a dam that burst and Haru’s about to open his mouth when he gets interrupted, “There’s no use lying, I always check your sched.”
“Jesus, stop hacking C1. You’re crushing their confidence as top hackers.”
“You know 00 baited your sched so I’d lose my interest in changing our assignments altogether, right?” Suzue smiles at him like the cat that got the canary and a whole factory filled with it, “Or would you rather spend your vacation… somewhere else?”
“I can’t believe you’re threatening me with Medical with the injury you’re going to presumably cause. God, fine. Fine, I’ll file for fucking vacation and fly off wherever you want.”
“Very good! Daisuke can come with us! Let’s go to a lot of places and have fun!” She rises from her seat and tells them eagerly, “I must plan now. 00 will probably bombard you with assignments until vacation day. Also, don’t worry about Umezu since he’s my assignment, and so is the rest of his connection with drugs and Isezaki. See you later!”
She actually bolts out on them, running like how a girl would innocently run on a field of flowers, and leaving Haru alone with the Kambe scion and the Kambe butler and a half eaten plate of paella.
Haru resumes eating because Haru doesn’t like wasting food.
“So.” Kambe starts, his gaze now fully trained on Haru. Haru looks back at him unabashedly, almost daring him, and shoves a spoonful of paella in his mouth.
When he finishes chewing, because Haru is a cultured human being, he says, “So?”
Kambe smiles sweetly, bordering on smug, “It appears that the three of us has a vacation to spend together. We should get to know each other well before our departure, yes?”
Well, Haru knows that it’ll come to that the moment he said “So” because Haru uses his brain cells effectively and efficiently, “Stop beating around the bush and ask your questions. I might answer them.”
“It’s not against your… team’s confidentiality?”
Haru shoots him a baleful look, “With Suzue’s interference? No, not really.”
“Suzue’s best friend, hmm.” Kambe wonders, a finger tapping against his chin delicately, “Say, your code name wouldn’t happen to be ‘Gold’, right? Admittedly, the description of ‘Gold’ doesn’t fit you well, but amongst the members, Suzue is close to Gold, Red and Orange. Orange is a woman so she’s out, and Red irritates her more than she likes him. That leaves Gold who has been his mentor since she was 15 and whom she practically idolizes.”
Haru raises an eyebrow at the guess-work, “You could’ve just asked normally and I would tell you.”
“That wouldn’t be any fun for me.”
“So, you do your guessing game and I nod if you’re right and shake my head if you’re wrong?”
Kambe smirks and sips from his wine, “We haven’t even spent a week knowing each other and you know me so well now.” At Haru’s unimpressed look, Kambe continues, “Very well. From Suzue’s description of ‘Gold’ or you, you saved her when she was 15 when she was kidnapped for her brilliance in tech. She told me when she first saw you that you nonchalantly shot her kidnappers right at their heads and bailed her out like you were walking in the park.”
Haru blinks because that’s how Suzue saw that scene? She was crying a lot that time, and clearly very panicked, “Uh, I actually got shot in the leg so I walked slow?”
Kambe halts and nods to himself, “I see. I had been quite doubtful by her recalling of the incident but it does make sense.”
Kambe’s eyes narrow with fascination again, “But you were her primary teacher in training her as an agent. My, Katou-san, and here I thought that you were a believer of fair justice. I’ve heard a summary of what you taught her, if you must know, and they were quite heartless and at times, gruesome. What about lives being more important and all the other lessons you’ve imparted in our short week of partnership?”
Haru rolls his eyes hard because of course that’s what Kambe would be gunning for, “I say things I don’t mean, but it’s for the country and all that. Had to slam Justice in the head chief’s face so he’d kick me out of Division 1, and it’ll be terribly remiss of me if I started going back on my word.”
“Such dedication. No wonder Suzue became so terrific.” Kambe offers the subtle compliment intended to butter him up, and Haru ignores it in favor or stuffing himself with Pavlova which takes him aback a bit because it tastes exactly like the one he had in New Zealand that one time.
“I see that your sweet tooth is also true.” Kambe notes, and tilts his head as if he’s filing that bit of information for a later date, “I heard that you’re one of the swiftest members who can accomplish an assignment and C1 usually has you undertake two times more than the other agents. That must be quite a hard work.”
“They’re probably hoping for my early grave so they won’t have to pay for my retirement funds.” Haru says jokingly, finishing the last piece of Pavlova with his fork, “Anymore outsider’s point of view, or well, Suzue’s point of view about myself that you want to relay?”
“Quite a lot, if I say so. Why, Katou-san, are you in a hurry?”
“I have an…appointment in an hour.” Haru informs him, finishing his Irish cream in two gulps, “I’ll have to excuse myself.” Haru wipes his mouth and he can see the approval in the butler’s eyes. God, he’s a literal spy agent. Contrary to his appearance, he knows the art of fine dining in several cultures because it’s actually a requirement. Hello, they specialize in espionage.
Kambe also stand up from his seat, “If I may, I could offer to drive you in your headquarters. I drive Suzue there sometimes.”
Haru gives him a long look, debates with himself, and after a minute, agrees with a bob of his head. Kambe drives him off to the headquarters with nary a check on Suzue and after a thirty minutes ride, he drops him off to ALPHA’s porte cochere.
As usual, like clockwork, Haru showers to remove all scents that could give him away and changes into his usual ALPHA wardrobe, all in black like a typical killer—black pressed three-piece suit, black gloves, black shoes, heavy black long coat that has several of his equipment tucked in and Haru suspects, for dramatic flair purposes, and with styled hair to make him look more professional. All are in high-quality, flexible and can at least slow down a bullet and doesn’t tear right away should a stabbing occur.
He honestly hates the coat but it saved him more times than it impeded him from his work, so it should count for something. He usually dumps it in his briefcase right after, with the rest of the equipment.
He leaves the headquarters with a black sports sedan which someone from C1 will probably get back later when they clean out his murder scenes because Haru almost always escapes by the roof with a copter. 03’s his guide for today and they banter as Haru enjoys a high-end party, blending in with the presumptuous rich guests like he was born with money himself.
Haru really couldn’t be categorized as “handsome”, but the thing about catching people’s eyes is showing them confidence—not to the point of flaunting it excessively, but to the point where it looks natural and make them want. Draw them in like moths to candle and burn them before they realize how dangerous you are.
Haru scales the bodyguards and his target, and finds a girl in her early twenties beside him, her laughter similar to small jingling bells. The target has his arm wrapped around her waist like she was her girl for the day, but the line of the girl’s shoulders, stilettos with extra sharpness, and her skirt with too much layers, says too much of her actual occupation.
“That girl’s carrying an entire armory beneath those luxury clothes.” 03 whistles, impressed, as he guides Haru out of the venue to implant his flash drive filled with virus. Foreigner agents can be particularly tenacious when stealing Japan’s data, and it’s not just Haru whose instant reaction is to shoot to kill.
Haru shoots three body guards with a pop, silencer in place. To think that they’d illegally install supercomputers and hoping no one noticed their clear intentions, they must be joking, Haru drags the corpses in the comfort room, gets a mop and cleans quickly, and gets out without showing anything had happened.
Haru encounters a drunk guest who gives him a once over and grins lasciviously at him, and Haru side-steps him and offers a smile of apology. The drunk guest clicks his tongue and stumbles away, passing by the comfort room.
“He drunk or pretending to?” Haru asks and 03 says that the man was 70% wasted. Haru heaves a sigh and continues on his way. He finds the supercomputers after killing the guards and stashing their bodies on a locker and injects the flash drive in the main computer.
“Shit, Gold, incoming—”
Haru ducks and a bullet passes through where his head had been. It’s followed by a barrage of bullet hails, and Haru makes a cover of the large supercomputers. He’s not surprised to see the girl with the armory beneath her clothes, pale blonde hair almost equivalent to albino by the light overhead, Caucasian skin just as pale and light blue eyes frigid.
She doesn’t speak, she shoots instead. Haru avoids the bullet, trying to see her angle, studying her movements. She’s quick on her feet despite the stilettos and she gains distance between them, and swings her leg to swipe at him and deal a deep laceration if Haru hadn’t moved on time. With her other hand, she shoots her gun and Haru grabs her wrist before she can aim it at him. He knees her on the face, and shoots her on the abdomen.
She staggers back, and Haru shoots her hand that has a gun and follows it with another shot to her heart. She falls but she still retains consciousness, glaring at Haru with liquid fire in her eyes, full lips puling into an ugly smirk, “I’m just the distraction.” She says with a heavily accented English.
A bullet pierces through Haru’s right shoulder, 03 screaming at him to move his ass away from at least a 45 degree angle behind him. Haru doesn’t scream, doesn’t make a sound, because he’s used to wounds like this. Used to wounds much worse than this, dealt during training and long blackout missions.
“Seven men, all with SPS. Target is with them and the one who shot you. It hit your humerus by the way, thankfully not major arteries.”
“I know basic anatomy, 03. Still hurts like a bitch than the artery. Do I really have to bring back that target alive?” Haru grunts, listening to the loud demands and taunts.
“At least you’re not bleeding out and dying in five minutes tops. Three men at six meters from your position. 00 just granted you permission to kill them all, have fun.” There was humor and worry in 03’s voice, and Haru grits his teeth as his lips pull into a particularly maniacal grin.
Haru stands and sucks in a breath, and jumps out of the racks and shoots three of them in succession, all headshot. Haru sprints towards the target and his bodyguards, and manages to shoot two more before they regained their wit and start shooting him too.
He swipes a leg on the floor at the target and presses him down, pulling a combat knife from his coat, flipping it mid-air so it’s aimed downwards and stabs him right where he shot Haru, the knife going through the bone and digs through the concrete like it’s a soft surface. The target screams, his gun sliding away on the floor. The remaining body guard is rattled and aims shakily at Haru and Haru rolls away when he shoots, accidentally hitting the target on the floor instead.
Another scream from the target.
Haru pulls the trigger again with his own gun and his magazine turns up empty so he throws it on the bodyguard’s face, which makes the man stumble back. Seven seconds and he clears the distance between them and Haru punches him on the gut, steals the man’s gun mid-air, and shoots the bodyguard with it on the face.
The body guard falls and Haru is left with a scene of massacre. He shoots the target on the head until the SPS’ magazine empties out. Behind Haru, the blue glow of the supercomputers turn red, a computerized voice warning of corruption repeatedly, and it dies off with multiple glitches.
“We just received all their data. It’s all Japan’s stolen intelligence, indeed. Get out of there and turn left. Don’t run. Walk briskly instead.”
Haru does what he’s told without a cheeky word or sarcasm, covering his bleeding shoulder with his coat.
“I’m gonna be in Medical, aren’t I?” Haru says and almost tears up from that realization instead, “Hit up Black and tell him I’m staying in his place. I’ll have him return the equipment tomorrow and let him hand in my report too.”
“God, you bunch’o babies.” 03 says and Haru can see him rolling his eyes in his mind, “Black’s in Iraq right now. Blackout mission.”
“Great, just great.” He complains and beelines to the exit, where 03 is directing him. If 03 tells Haru that he’ll have to drive himself with that black sports sedan he used to come in, Haru will be shooting him in the face too.
Haru says this and 03 tells him he’s a psycho and Indigo truly learned from the best.
“So, since you detest Medical that much, I hit up Indigo instead. She’s on her way.” 03 casually informs and Haru will be really shooting him the next time he sees him.
“Are you crazy? She’ll not only strap me on the bed, she’ll lock the room and keep me prisoner even if I’m done healing. What the fuck is wrong with you, 03?”
“It’s not that bad. Haven’t you filed a vacation with her?”
“I—what?! I haven’t even—God damn it, when’s it scheduled?!” Haru is spitting on his earpiece now, face stormy. People parted ahead him like he’s the second coming of Moses, and Haru schooled his expression into a stoic one.
“I see that Indigo did it for you. In seven days time, half a month. You just used three years worth of your vacation and you still have nine years worth stocked up, you lunatic. I can’t believed this is the first time you’ll be vacationing in your twelve years of service.”
“I’m handling two to three assignments on a regular basis; do you think I have time to build relationships with people to spend my vacation with them?”
“It hadn’t crossed your mind at all that you can go by yourself?”
“I’m a people person. I’d feel lonely and then I’d want to murder everyone who has someone with them. I can’t guarantee that you all would clean up my mess either.”
“By the gods, you must be really hurting to be contemplating murder in every scenario that you think of.” 03 says with pity and amusement, “Indigo’s ETA is at thirty seconds.”
“Thirty? I don’t see her car yet.” Haru blinks and swallows his words because a hot pink Maybach Exelero just appeared at high speed and rolled without even a screech in front of him. The car door slams open in the back seat and instead of Suzue, he’s facing Kambe instead, who ushers him in.
Suzue is the one on the driver’s seat, and just as they’re seated, they’re driving away again. The pain on his shoulder throbs more now that he’s not in motion and because Haru is Haru, his face shuts down instead of twisting to show his suffering and no sound comes out of his mouth.
He can feel Kambe’s eyes on him and Suzue growing jittery on her seat as she drives. She knows what he’s like when he’s in pain, knows that he’s more dangerous now than his usual self. Anyone who knows Haru as “Gold” would also know that he’s at his strongest, most unpredictable, when he’s injured. The more pain, the more Haru drops his iron restraint and just go wild, like an animal—vicious, suicidal and uncaring.
03’s still chattering in his ear and it helps distract him, and he only notices that they arrived when Suzue’s hauling him off the car with his good shoulder and he hears Kambe offer to lug him instead but Suzue bats him off, says that she can defend herself if worst truly comes to pass.
Haru thinks Kambe wouldn’t understand her explanation because Haru’s the one to be more likely in danger than Suzue because why would Suzue need to defend herself?
Well, Haru hopes it’s only fully explained to Kambe when he’s in less pain.
An older woman in white coat receives all of them in the spacious living room, and nods to them, making Haru sit. Suzue holds his wrists together and slaps a handcuff on them, the feeling of cool metal nearly dismissible in comparison to the burn in his shoulder. The doctor doses him with anesthesia, twice as usual, and Haru finally breathes without feeling his arm being torn off every second.
He closes his eyes and evens his breathing, as the bullet is removed and the wound is being stitched up. He’ll need to be drugged to the gills until five days at most. After that, he can return back to his job again, be more vicious than usual but efficient, and hope not to be injured again because he’ll probably commit an accidental massacre.
It’s times like this that he wonders if he’s the only one whom the Medical straps on the bed.
His psychologist warned him that his pain tolerance is lower than normal people, and his direct response is to hurt back—his emotions and rationality that usually worked as the stop signal numbed by the pain. C1-00 told him to his face that he’s a double-edged sword, useful when pointed to the enemies, a critical security risk when pointed at them. People in pain usually weakens, but in Haru’s case, he grows stronger, adrenaline rushing where it could just to inflict hurt to others, just as how his brain dictates it to do.
If ALPHA hadn’t found Haru, or well, the other way around, really, then Haru would potentially be in jail right now for accidental violence or worse, murdering an innocent. Haru wouldn’t be given an out, because ultimately, that’s what ALPHA did for him: give him an out to unleash his uglier, ballistic side by providing him people to kill for the greater good.
Somebody carries him, and lays him down to a bed gently. There’s no handcuffs restraining his wrists anymore, and Haru falls asleep to the murmur of conversations around him.
Haru wakes up frequently but immediately falls asleep right after, and he only fully wakes on the third day, as HEUSC informs him. Haru is hungry for real food and his prayers are answered when the door to his room opens, the smell of congee wafting over to him.
He’s only mildly surprised when it’s Kambe who brings him the food, instead of Suzue or the butler. He’s well aware that HEUSC must have informed them all when he finally woke up.
“Can you stomach solid foods?” Kambe asks as he pulls the overbed table from the foot of the bed towards Haru. Haru sits up and doesn’t feel even a twinge thanks to the anesthesia, probably.
“I can, even when I haven’t eaten for days. The only sturdy part of me is probably my stomach.” Haru reaches for the congee and murmurs gratitude to Kambe, who sits by his bedside as he eats the homemade congee.
When he’s done, Kambe moves back the table on the foot of the bed again and hands him water. Haru gulps it like he’s dying and hands it back right after, “Thanks for looking after me. Sorry for the trouble.”
Kambe gives him a long searching look, and smiles at him like it amused him that Haru’s sincere, “Of course. Aren’t we partners? It’s only natural.”
Haru looks at him dubiously, and reluctantly nods when Kambe doesn’t relent with his claims.
“Suzue’s currently tying up the drug business for the police to find. She’ll be back in three hours.” Kambe informs him and Haru hums, staring back at him.
“How about the MCPTF? What excuse did you give them?”
“That we’ll be in a vacation together, for twenty-two days.” Kambe says, his smile easily turns into a smirk, and Haru violently twitches on his bed.
“…You didn’t clarify anything, did you?” Haru guesses, because Haru’s premonitions is always right and it’s a thing of legends, and after 03, he’ll be shooting Kambe next.
“What should I be clarifying about?” Kambe asks innocently, batting his eyelashes, and he gets a hint now where Suzue got that one tactic of acting moe and succeeding at it. It runs in the family.
“…I’ll talk to you when I’m not drugged up to the gills and can no longer feel pain. I feel too trigger-happy right now. Good night, Kambe.” Haru lays down and mechanically shuts his eyes.
“Call me ‘Daisuke’, Katou-san. Kambe could be my father and mother. Don’t you call Suzue by name?”
Haru opens his eyes, golden eyes bright, almost eerily incandescent in the semi-lit room as it lands on the Kambe scion, “None of that ‘Katou-san’, then. Good night, Daisuke.”
He’s about to fall asleep when he hears Kambe—no, Daisuke, reply to him, “Good night, Haru.”
Haru’s eyelashes flutter close once again, his consciousness slipping gradually. He’ll probably have to have mental and physical preparations when his five days of rest is cut short and he gets dragged somewhere by Suzue with her brother tagging along. Are they going to the beaches? Perhaps hiking in Mt. Everest because Suzue loves to be contrary and even the seasons can’t stop her. Sightseeing in Greece?
Haru’s lips curl up. Somehow, all of it doesn’t sound too bad.