Work Text:
“What the hell are you doing?”
“My mission.”
“What? This is our mission!”
“No, this is your mission. Mine is...let’s just say, at odds.” Sakusa held the thumb drive up to his face, inspecting it. A smirk appeared. “Thanks for the help though. Couldn’t have done it without you.” The alarms in the facility hadn’t gone off yet. He could spare a few more moments.
“Who’s making you do this?” Atsumu interrogated.
“Who?” He let his smirk grow wider. “I suppose I’m making myself do this, if that’s the answer you’re looking for. I’m the only one competent enough to get this kind of thing done.” Referring to the situation at hand, he pointed out, “Obviously.”
“And although I’d usually get rid of any loose ends, you weren’t the worst man I’ve had to put up with. Besides, I need to pretend I have morals every once in a while. It’s good for my conscience.”
“What conscience?” Atsumu snarled, pulling against the railing that Sakusa had handcuffed him to. “If you had one you’d be on my side.”
“That’s what they all say,” he sighed wearily. “Which is why I prefer to keep my conscience separate from business - you’d be surprised by how ridiculous that makes people like you look.”
“So what was this? You lied to me for a year? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Sakusa’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing is wrong with me. I do what I have to do to get the job done. This drive will change the world - my personal morals are nothing compared to that.” He paused, looking away for a moment. “And it wasn’t all a lie.”
“And that’s supposed to mean something to me? That at least when we fucked you weren’t faking it? You’re a fucking psycho, Sakusa.”
It just confirmed what Sakusa already knew when that actually stung. He was in too deep. The mission wasn’t supposed to take this long, three months tops. If it had stuck to the schedule, he could’ve escaped without the guilt that was eating at him now.
He’ll just keep up the facade. It’ll make it hurt less. Maybe.
“Think what you want.” He hadn’t been referring to the sex, anyways - although that had been real too. “I don’t care.” Lies.
He grew more and more conflicted the longer they went back and forth. This was the ultimate failure of an undercover operation - caring about the people you were going to betray. It could never end well. And yet here he was, considering…no, he wasn’t considering anything. This was almost over. Then he could finally go home. Home. He hated how the first place that came to mind wasn’t where he would be going after this. Or ever again.
Why hadn’t he left yet? Every moment he spent here was a head start on anyone who would try and get the drive back. But for some reason he was still talking, and he still couldn’t take his eyes off Atsumu. Even if all that Atsumu was doing was spitting insults in his face. God, this was going so, so wrong.
“And even after all that, you’re still taunting me!” Atsumu shouted. “You just love seeing me defeated, don’t you?”
No, Sakusa just couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving. Even though he couldn’t stretch this on forever, having this be the last he ever saw of Atsumu…
“I hate you.” The quietness of Atsumu’s voice startled Sakusa, compared to the volume from a moment ago. “If I ever see you again, you’re dead. Dead fucking meat.” Atsumu’s eyes were feral. Dangerously feral. Sakusa believed him.
Maybe it was time to go.
Sakusa was about to say his final words, but then Atsumu spoke up again. “You know, I didn’t always hate you. I loved you, yesterday. But believe me, I won’t let that get in the way of my promise.”
Sakusa choked. He hadn’t known. Turning away - he couldn’t look Atsumu in the eyes anymore - he made a decision that he might come to regret. “The guards will switch soon. They’ll find you.” He dug the key to the cuffs out of his pocket.
Atsumu’s eyes flashed upon sight of the key. “You’ll regret that.”
“I know,” Sakusa choked out. “And...I’m sorry.”
He tossed the key to Atsumu, but it would take him at least thirty seconds to unlock it with his left hand. That was plenty of time.
He let his legs carry him to the getaway car.
And then he drove away from the last year of his life.