Chapter Text
6 months ago:
Shimizu Kiyoko stared down at the degree in her hands, as the graduation ceremony dispersed around her. The new graduates milled around with family and friends on the green, and from where she sat, she watched hugs and congratulations being exchanged.
“Missin’ yer family, Kiyoko-san?” Miya Osamu looked down at her, graduation certificate clutched in one hand. Kiyoka raised a hand to cover the glare from the sun, dropping it with a calm smile once she saw who it was.
“Tobio offered to come. I told him not to.”
Osamu dropped down onto the grass next to her, abandoning his certificate on the grass to drape a lazy arm across his face. Kiyoko mimicked his motions, and the two of them laid side-by-side watching the puffy white clouds drift across the sky.
“Aw, I woulda loved to meet yer kid cousin.”
Kiyoko smiled softly, almost nostalgic. “He’s not nearly as sociable as you seem to think,” she said softly. “But he’s definitely a softy inside. He’d like you, I think.”
The two laid in companionable silence for a while, long enough for most of the crowd to disperse and head back inside to the entrance hall or the mess. A couple stragglers remained when Osamu rolled over to face Kiyoko, who stayed looking up in the sky.
“So, what’s next for ya, Kiyoko-san?”
Kiyoko sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “It was always my plan to open a bakery. I want to run a business, and it’s my best way of keeping Tobio with me, at least for a little while. The first step was getting a business administration degree.” Kiyoko paused to wave her certificate in the air.
“I guess the next thing to do is to secure a bunch of loans,” she finished. “What about you, Miya-san?”
“...goin’ into the family business, I think,” Osamu answered after an awkward pause.
Kiyoko turned over to face Osamu, interest piqued. “What does your family do?”
“Odds an’ ends,” he explained shortly, running a hand through his hair. “We got a foot in a lotta camps.”
Kiyoko hummed, recognizing an evasive answer when she heard one. She sat up, brushing any dirt from her skirt as she pulled herself to her feet. “Well, good luck to the both of us then, Miya-san.” Osamu snorted, also sitting up though not climbing to his feet. “What do ye need luck for, Kiyoko-san? Ye’ve got talent.”
“One cannot put talent down as collateral on a loan, Miya-san.” Though uttered flippantly, Kiyoko paused in brushing nonexistent dirt from her skirt, hand twitching just slightly. Osamu waited, wondering if she’d say anything more. The silence stretched just slightly too long for comfort, and Osamu almost began to fidget.
“It’s one thing to say Tobio is all that I have,” Kiyoko began. “But the converse of that statement is much more important. I’m all Tobio has.”
Osamu stays silent, his breath practically bated. Kiyoko didn’t share a lot about her personal life; he could count everything he knew about her on one hand and they’d known each other for three years.
“Getting a loan from a bank is a...complicated process. I’d have to provide collateral, prove I can pay it back. I’d need to put practically all of my salary into paying the loan back for the first couple years.” Kiyoko looked away quickly, though Osamu didn’t think she was anywhere near crying.
“I just need to be able to juggle quite a few things. And my first priority, obviously, is making sure Tobio graduates from culinary school.” At Osamu’s glance of askance, Kiyoko continued. “He got in on scholarship. All expenses paid.” She couldn’t keep the note of pride from her voice. “He’s incredible.”
“Still,” she returned, the levity in the conversation fleeting. “I can’t help but be a little afraid. I need to be there with him, for him. But I also want to help us both accomplish our dreams.”
Osamu levied a considering look up at her. He was fully unsure of whether this was a good idea, or if he was even allowed to do this. It was a family business. Shouldn’t he consult…?
In that exact moment, Osamu’s mind played for him a Greatest Hits reel. Specifically, ‘Tsumu Being an Asshat . A consultation with Atsumu would result in a loss of critical-thinking ability. Also, he just didn’t want to give the jerk an opinion.
Kiyoko, who had begun to walk away with a soft backwards wave, was halted by his voice.
“Kiyoko-san!” Osamu shouted, leaping to his feet and running the five-or-so feet she’d covered in the past thirty seconds. “How would ya feel if I made you a proposition?” Kiyoko’s eyes widened, and he rushed to clarify. “A business proposition. I think we could come to a mutually beneficial solution to your problem.”
Kiyoko cocked her head to the side, calculating in her stare. “I need money,” she finally said. “There’s nothing about that that you can help with or that would be beneficial for you.” Osamu laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I could definitely help with that, unfortunately enough.”
When Kiyoko maintained her cautious gaze, Osamu continued. “And as for how it would be beneficial for me, that’s actually an even longer explanation.”
“Look, Miya-san, I appreciate you trying to help in some capacity, but if you could help me with this we wouldn’t have eaten microwave ramen for all three meals of the day for the past two months. We’re both broke college students.” She said this with little room for argument, and Osamu felt himself let out another awkward laugh.
“...I’m kinda not.” Kiyoko looked at him evenly, and he couldn’t decipher her expression. She stared at him long enough for him to get really uncomfortable, and he looked away from her, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Wouldja please stop looking at me like that?” he finally asked, his nervousness bubbling over.
“Sorry, Miya-san. I’m just trying to understand if finals week got to you, mentally, or if you’re telling the truth.” Before he could open his mouth to protest, Kiyoko added on, “And if you’re telling the truth now , I’m trying to decide if I can trust you.”
The two lapsed into silence, but this time Osamu faced Kiyoko’s gaze head-on. After about thirty seconds, Kiyoko sat back down on the lawn, patting the space next to her.
“Why don’t you try to give me all of these long, complicated explanations. Then, I can figure out if I should press my panic button.” When the color drained from Osamu’s face, Kiyoko laughed. “I’m mostly kidding, Miya-san.”
Osamu took a deep breath. Then, without preamble, he asked:
“Have you ever heard of the MSBY Black Jackals?”
Kiyoko’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard tell, mostly from small-businesses in the city.” At Osamu’s gesture, Kiyoko continued. “I’ve heard a lot of things. The most outlandish, of course, being that it’s basically the mafia.” Kiyoko chuckled softly to herself. “I always assumed it was some sort of business advisory, maybe a financial consulting service?” Osamu looked away, hand permanently buried in his hair at this point.
“No, it’s the mafia.”
Kiyoko stared. Osamu was beginning to sweat profusely.
Kiyoko suddenly smacked a palm to her face. “Tobio told me to bring a panic button to university. I should’ve listened to him.”
“Okay but, if it makes you feel any better, we don’t traffic,” Osamu tried.
“ Humans? ” Kiyoko exclaimed, eyes wider than before. Osamu groaned internally. This wasn’t quite how he was hoping this conversation would go. He nodded, and pretended not to notice her silently scooting farther away from him on the grass.
“Look, I’ll get straight to the point. The Black Jackals invest in startups that we think have significant potential. So, I can provide ya with funds.”
Kiyoko continued to stare, and Osamu waited for her response.
“So, you’re part of the mafia?” Kiyoko finally said. Osamu dropped his head with a groan, before giving an aborted nod. Kiyoko hummed again, cocking her head to the side. “Who decides if my business has potential?”
Osamu’s head shot up, his eyes seeking her gaze. She seemed more curious than outright horrified, so he decided to respond eloquently:
“Huh?”
Kiyoko smiled softly. “Who decides if my business has potential? You need to get approval from someone right? It can’t just be you, with an undergraduate degree in business administration?”
Osamu let out an aggravated breath. How did that dumbass manage to worm his way into every conversation, even in absentia? Damn you, ‘Tsumu. “It’s not just me. There’s two other people I need approval from, technically.” Kiyoko smirked at the clear distaste in his tone.
“Don’t like your bosses?” she asked, curiosity still evident in her tone.
“Well, one of ‘em is about the most competent men I’ve ever met. The other is a fuckin’ dumbass who doesn’t deserve the air he breathes.”
“Oh, brilliant,” she said softly. “Well, let me know what they decide,” she finally said, standing back up and brushing any new dirt off her skirt.
“Huh?” Osamu said, still brilliantly eloquent.
“I’m in, Miya-san. I’ll bring Tobio along to our next meeting, so you can finally meet him.” Osamu watched her walk away, dumbstruck.
“See you around, Miya-san,” she threw out with a wave. Osamu waved at her retreating figure until she turned the corner. He sat in a sort of stunned silence for a couple moments, before his phone began to let out a tell-tale whine.
“Oi, ‘Samu. Ya fuckin’ graduate yet?”
“Comin’ from you, ya uneducated scrub.” He heard Atsumu begin to complain in the background as the phone was clearly plucked from his hands.
“He means congratulations, Miya-san,” a distinctly deeper tone asserted calmly. Sometimes Osamu wondered how a person like Sakusa Kiyoomi was attracted to the shitface of a brother he had. As if on cue, Osamu heard Atsumu’s voice again in the background, whining about how ‘Omi-kun, I told you, Miya-san is so weird , just call him ‘Samu.’
“So, Osamu,” Sakusa continued. “Have you decided on any lucrative opportunities for the Jackals? I know you were mentioning the opportunities presented by restaurants in the area.”
Osamu looked in the direction that Kiyoko had disappeared in, weighing the decision in his mind.
“Actually, Sakusa-san, I have a couple ideas. How do you feel about bakeries?”
Osamu missed having Kiyoko to help him decipher financial statements. The two of them mutually kept each other going through mounds of business school homework.
Having real-life homework fuckin’ sucked. But the more relevant reason as to why he couldn’t just call Kiyoko and ask for her help was because he was staring at her financial statements. She’d emailed him a well-organized portfolio filled with her business plan, earnings projections, financial statements- basically everything he needed.
Sakusa-san had helped him go through the information two nights prior, expressing just the mildest admiration for Kiyoko’s thoroughness. ‘Tsumu had just kicked his feet up on the breakfast bar, alternating between throwing popcorn at Osamu’s head and distracting Sakusa-san.
Osamu felt the urge to click his tongue in annoyance just recalling the incident. Still, Sakusa-san’s steadfast ability to ignore ‘Tsumu left him a little in awe.
Osamu checked his watch, leaning back in his chair. He was sitting at the head of a table in Conference Room A of the Jackals’ business front building. He tried to tamp down on his jitters, his knee jiggling up and down in spite of himself.
It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about being nervous , though that was also a factor. It’s what he was nervous for . He kept sending cautious glances at the door to the room, worried Tsumu was going to just fuckin’ appear in the entryway through their ‘psychic connection’, or whatever shit.
In his defense, Osamu had been waiting to meet Tobio-kun for a couple years now. Kiyoko had promised to bring him along for this meeting. He’d accidentally let it slip to Sakusa-san the night before, and the look he’d received had been so dry and judgemental Osamu had seen his life flash before his eyes. Then, just as he contemplated shattering a window and leaping out, Sakusa-san’s lips had quirked upward in a sort of smirk.
“Sometimes you’re both so odd in similar ways,” he commented tritely. Again, as if on cue, Atsumu had walked in and they both began to retch obnoxiously loud at the comparison.
Osamu continued to tap a pen against the conference room table, scanning Kiyoko’s documents once more. Luckily, based on their appraisal of Kiyoko’s skill and the copious amounts of information she had provided, this meeting should be a considerably lighthearted one. The only point of consternation was finally explaining to Kiyoko what it meant to be subsidized by the Jackals.
Eh. It would probably be fine. After all, if Kiyoko wasn’t up for something batshit-crazy, they wouldn’t have made it to this point.
Osamu was interrupted from his thought process by light rapping on the door. He looked up to see Kiyoko in a blouse and slacks, followed closely by a severe-looking boy in sweatpants and an apron.
“Nice to see you again, Miya-san,” she remarked calmly as Osamu stood up to pull her into a quick hug. He looked past her at who he strongly suspected to be Tobio-kun. Still, he waited for the boy to introduce himself.
“Nice to meet you, Miya-san. My name is Kageyama Tobio. I’ve heard a lot about you from Kiyoko.”
“And I really did try to wrestle him into professional clothing, but he escaped to the kitchen almost immediately, tweaking some recipe until we were almost late.” She cut a look toward him, and he at least had the good sense to look a little ashamed.
Osamu smiled indulgently. “Let’s get down to business then, if it’s all right with yer cousin.” When Kageyama went slightly pink at the attention and nodded, Osamu opened his folder, pulling out an envelope.
“This is the first of a series of cheques yer gonna receive, for yer startup costs.” Kiyoko turned to look at him quickly, eyes wide. A glance at Kageyama revealed eyes as wide as saucers.
“We also scouted out a couple places, for ya to use as a storefront.” Osamu slid multiple photos across the table along with the envelope. But as Kiyoko reached for the many pieces of paper, Osamu stopped her with a look.
“There’s still a large ‘but’.”
Both Kiyoko and Kageyama were looking him full in the eye now, it was almost unnerving. Osamu dimly recognized that both of them were exactly intense enough to be associated with the mafia, at least when they tried to be.
“This won’t exactly be normal. Most of yer customers will be Jackals, or residents under the protection of the Jackals. Yer pool of customers’ll be limited, ‘cuz ya can’t serve rival mafia members. Yer gonna have to pay a tax to the Jackals, for protection.”
Kiyoko and Kageyama had little to no reaction.
“Ya might see some violence. Ya might get some rowdy customers. But, the Jackals will back yer plays, back ya under most any circumstance.”
Kiyoko turned to look at Kageyama and Osamu shifted his gaze to look at the boy too. He was taken aback by the small nostalgic smile on the boy’s face. Osamu watched his lips move almost soundlessly, but whatever he had said caused Kiyoko to flinch slightly. When she turned around, her eyes were just barely glassy.
“Sounds fine to us,” she said quietly, finally reaching forward to pull the papers toward her with finality. She tucked them into her briefcase, snapping it shut with some amount of flair. Osamu smiled, before pushing his chair out to stand.
“We need ya to sign a couple documents, when yer ready. If ya go out and take a left, ye’ll see a lanky man with fuckin’ weird eyebrows. Motoya’ll help ya out with all that.”
Kiyoko snorted out a laugh before leaving the room. Kageyama stayed behind, fidgeting in his chair. He shot a glance up at Osamu before looking down again, lips a tremulous line. Osamu waited patiently, honestly a little scared at being left alone with the boy.
“...Miya-san?” When Osamu nodded, Kageyama continued. “Th-thank you. For helping Kiyoko. And me.” Kageyama said all of this while glaring at the table, unable to apparently look up at Osamu.
Osamu bit down hard on his lip to keep a grin in.
“Hey, Tobio-kun?” he finally said, getting Kageyama to look up. “What’dja say to Kiyoko, after I told ya all the scary disclaimer shit?”
Kageyama went red, the rosy flush blooming from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He immediately began to stammer out a response, gaze fixed on the table.
“Well, you said the Jackals would have our backs, right Miya-san?” Osamu nodded, curiosity piquing. “...kinda sounded like family to me.”
Osamu leaned back into his chair struck dumb. Soon after, Kageyama left the room quickly, following Kiyoko out. Some time later, Sakusa stuck his head into the room. “How’d it go, Osamu?” Osamu looked at him with an intense look in his eyes. “The kid was something else, Sakusa-san.”
Sakusa shot him another judgemental look. “Undergrad made you fucking soft, Miya.”
“Please don’t call me what ya call that fuckass, Sakusa-san.”
“You both need to stop with the ‘creative’ insults, they’re getting annoying.”
“Yer face is getting annoying.”
When Sakusa-san turned a severe glare on him, Osamu knew he’d be made to regret that statement.
It was true that Kageyama Tobio was very respectful to his elders, generally. It was also true that at times, Kageyama Tobio could be quite likeable, even soft.
It just wasn’t a hard and fast rule.
“Were you literally dropped on your head as an infant? Because that’s the only explanation I can think of for why you’re this much of a dumbass shithead.”
“Well I don’t know Kageyama-kun, maybe let’s call your mom and compare , since you’re fairly entirely stupid too!”
Kageyama was going to use a spatula to beat him to death. He was going to upend an entire bowl of batter on Hinata Shouyou’s head, and then shove him into the oven and let him roast .
“Guys, let’s not fight…” Yachi Hitoka tried from the corner. The moment the bowl of dry ingredients had clattered from the counter to the floor, dousing both Hinata and Kageyama in a shower of white powder, she’d scrambled to the edge of the room, now perched on a barstool as far away from the conflict as possible.
“Oh don’t worry, Hitoka-chan. It won’t be much of a fight against this pipsqueak.” It should be noted that Kageyama wasn’t really one for conflict de-escalation.
“Screw you, Kageyama. I can take you!”
“What were you thinking , trying to pick up a bowl half your size to stir?”
“I said I was sorry!” Hinata complained.
“Yeah, and I said I was going to kill you if you spilled anything, so get ready to die, dumbass.”
At that exact moment, the three workers heard a jingle from the entryway of the store, and turned to see two men enter the store without preamble. One, being a carbon copy of the other Miya-san, was easy to identify. The other was a hulking man, broad shoulders and a severe frown. Hinata’s eyes widened as he took them both in. Kageyama suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
“Yo, Kiyoko-chan-whoa.” The Miya-san lookalike took in the scene the two were greeted with. Hinata and Kageyama were entirely coated in white powder, and the kitchen area was a colossal mess (luckily mostly hidden behind a partial wall). One the other hand, Yachi was trembling in the corner, already scared out of her wits by the mere presence of the men. When the hulking man took a step toward her, she let out a squeak and ran to hide behind Kageyama.
There was a split second of silence before the Miya-san lookalike burst into hysterical laughter, to the point where tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Hinata turned to look questioningly at Kageyama, but Kageyama just mimed slitting his throat back at him.
“I guess we know where the missing drug shipment went,” he choked out between peals of laughter. That sent up warning bells in Kageyama, but before he could say anything, the other man spoke up:
“Actually, Miya, I believe that is flour. Possibly with the addition of baking soda.”
“Baking powder,” Kageyama corrected. “And some cream of tartar.”
“I apologize,” the man said solemnly. “Thank you for the clarification.”
Miya-san looked back and forth between them, before groaning. “Wakatoshi-kun, you’re cramping my style,” he complained. “You’re literally even worse than Omi-kun, and he prefers physical abuse.”
“Er, Miya-san?” Hinata piped up. “What are you here for?”
At this it seemed Kageyama was reinvigorated with a new dose of rage. He reached out to twist a hand in Hinata’s shirt dragging him closer. In his periphery, he saw both Miya-san and...Wakatoshi-kun? jump backward in astonishment.
“They’re obviously here because of your dumbassery. Do you realize how far you’ve set back our prep schedule, you inept shithead?” he barked in Hinata’s face, and still Hinata had the audacity to just stick his tongue out at him. Kageyama shoved him backward lightly, turning to face the two men fully.
“Please take him out back and have him shot,” he said solemnly. Hinata yelped in complaint and a bit of fear. After all, no one in their right mind would joke about executions with the Jackals’ enforcer, right?
Miya-san looked at him, a look of mild fear in his eyes. “My brother said ya were precious. That’s the exact word he even used.”
“I suppose I am,” Kageyama remarked, clapping flour off of his hands.
“Yer kinda...severe.”
“Actually,” Yachi piped up from behind the two boys. “He’s really only like that with people who piss him off.” The unspoken Hinata reverberated loudly throughout the room.
“How long have ya been workin’ here, Shouyou-kun?”
“I’ve been here two weeks!” Hinata chirped his answer with a quality not unlike a labrador retriever.
“I’m sure it’ll get better, Shouyou-kun. Maybe Tobio-kun and ya will get along.” Miya-san leveled a stare at Kageyama, and Kageyama felt the sudden urge to fidget slightly.
“Maybe if he stops being shitty,” he responded sullenly. Miya-san snorted. “Where’s yer cousin, Tobio-kun?”
“She went to coordinate with a supplier,” Kageyama replied, already beginning to move past the incident, shoving a mop into Hinata’s hand.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet ya, Tobio-kun. Yer not at all like what my brother said yer like, but I guess I like ya anyway.”
“Thanks, Miya-san. I think I like you too. Though your laugh is kind of weird.” Kageyama said this directly to Miya Atsumu , one of the dreaded heads of the Black Jackals, without flinching.
“That is humorous,” Ushijima said humorlessly, driving the dagger into Atsumu further. “My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi, in case any of you were wondering.”
“Nice to meet you, Ushijima-san,” the three of them said in unison. And against all logic, this man who struck fear into the hearts of mercenaries waved softly to these twenty-two year olds, who then waved back.
The first two months of any business were expected to be a bit...rocky. Kiyoko had figured that since she was starting a bakery, there would be unforeseen obstacles. She’d expressed as much to Tobio one night after their first meeting with Osamu, hoping for some reassurance. Without looking up from his recipe journal, Tobio had rattled off a laundry list of potential calamities, each worse than the last.
Thank god Tobio had gone to culinary school. It always put her at such ease .
The odd bit was that the experiences they faced were actually both entirely separate from those of an ordinary business and those of an ordinary bakery. It probably should have been expected by all four of them that the biggest issues they’d face would be connected to the Jackals.
Sometimes, they all collectively forgot that their small business was technically subsidized by the mafia; even Hinata, who’d grown up in the area and had lived in such a way that he was inextricably connected to the Black Jackals. That had actually been one of the reasons Kiyoko had hired him; she and Tobio needed someone with enough experience with the mafia, just to guide them through what would surely be a peculiar process.
And though the incidences were rare, peculiar it was. There were smaller incidents, when one of the Miyas would come in with bloodied knuckles, bloodstained clothes, guns strapped to their body in full view. This was usually Atsumu-san, though on the occasions Osamu came in dishevelled, he always looked drained. (Those were usually the days Kiyoko would call in for takeout and the five of them would eat dinner together).
In hindsight, the larger incidents were...bizarre. Hinata called them hilarious, but Kiyoko felt that minimized the fear involved.
One of the worst had taken place recently. Kiyoko had left the three of them (Tobio, Hinata, and Yachi) to mind the store on a Wednesday so she could iron out a discrepancy in one of their recent bank statements with Motoya-san. When she returned, she found a large man with an even larger gun passed out in their to-go lane, a weighty sheet pan on the ground near him. Apparently a member of a rival organization, he’d tried to threaten Yachi into emptying the cash register. Yachi, who was still afraid of even Osamu, had immediately begun to scream and grabbed the first thing in reach to throw at him (apparently a heavy sheet pan). The man had been knocked out cold, and Hinata had burst out laughing, giving an inconsolable Yachi double high-fives.
Tobio was kneading dough with headphones on in the kitchen, and hadn’t noticed that a man had intended to murder them.
Kiyoko remembers the cold rage she’d had that day, unleashing it all on Osamu and Sakusa-san when they’d finally come around.
“Do you remember what I told you my priorities were, Osamu ?” She hadn’t given him the chance to respond, answering her own question. “Tobio. Taking care of Tobio. He almost died today. I mean, he didn’t notice that he almost died, but that doesn’t change that fact.”
Needless to say, the Jackals increased security. Kiyoko was incredibly thankful for the results of that decision, her fear of leaving her workers alone greatly decreased. Still, she wasn’t quite expecting what was perhaps the largest impact of their heightened security.
Kiyoko felt she had a good read on Tobio, in general at least. She knew he and Hinata would be a good partnership when she hired him, and though they had their... conflicts , this was an incontrovertible fact. Hitoka-chan was unassuming and kind enough for Tobio to like her, and Kiyoko was also sure of the mutual liking Tobio and Osamu had for one another (especially since Osamu turned out to be a closet culinary buff).
Still, Kiyoko wouldn’t have predicted that Tobio would become fast friends with the Jackals’ most fearsome enforcer.
Around 6’3” and built like a tank, Ushijima Wakatoshi had been Sakusa-san’s solution to their most recent problem. Ushijima-san spent most of the morning sitting at the front counter of the bakery, his imposing presence both reassuring and oddly threatening. Yachi subbed out of the cashier shift in the morning, swapping with Hinata who was content to talk Ushijima-san’s ear off. Kiyoko liked working out front, exchanging limited interactions with their patrons in the morning. Tobio, of course, worked almost exclusively in the kitchen, though he did come out front to either yell at Hinata or begrudgingly ask him to sample something.
For the first couple days, Ushijima-san sat as still as a statue, answering Hinata’s questions shortly. When Hinata disappeared into the back to work with Tobio on tweaking a recipe for boysenberry danishes (Kiyoko swapped positions with him, since Yachi was baking lemon bars and was also still terrified of Ushijima), no one interacted with him. Ushijima-san seemed perfectly content to sit in silence until he had to leave.
When Friday came around, though, that changed. Almost every Friday, Hinata and Tobio had a harmless(ish) bake-off. Tobio almost surely had a leg-up in terms of skill, but Hinata had a natural instinct for what flavor profiles would do well together in a pastry. Kiyoko had spent months trying to transition them from working against one another to working with one another, but hadn’t had much luck yet.
As it turned out, she had out-of-office errands to run that morning, so when Tobio and Hinata approached her to judge, she had nominated Ushijima-san to replace her for that day.
“I would be honored,” he’d intoned deeply. He was a living, breathing human who could metabolize baked goods, so neither Hinata nor Tobio cared much.
When Kiyoko returned, she found Hinata and Kageyama deeply engrossed in their work, both hunched over one bowl of dry ingredients. Even more surprisingly, Hinata was sifting in ground cinnamon. Tobio rarely allowed Hinata to perform even the most minor tasks when they ‘worked together’.
Yachi was finishing up with a customer, and she shot Kiyoko a grin as she handed over a cup of coffee and a bag likely containing one of her freshly-baked lemon bars. “Did you know that Ushijima-san would help Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun work together?” she asked in wonder. Kiyoko’s eyes widened, immediately taking a seat at the front counter, forcing Yachi to recount the events of the morning.
As usual, Tobio had baked something technically complex, while Hinata had baked something simpler with an interesting flavor profile. Yachi had sampled both along with Ushijima-san, though she wasn’t one for passing judgement. She had been interested in what an enforcer for the Jackals would say, so she didn’t disappear after her portion.
“Are both pastries separate?” was apparently this first question he asked. Hinata and Tobio had cocked their heads to the side simultaneously in confusion, before one of them had answered in the affirmative. “Something about these pastries works very well together. I think combining them would be a good idea. Also, Kageyama-kun, yours might need fresh rosemary.”
“Kageyama-kun had the weirdest look on his face, Shimizu-san! He immediately dragged Hinata into the kitchen and they haven’t come out in hours .” Yachi had a massive grin on her face that Kiyoko was sure she was mirroring. They’d been waiting for the two to work together for ages.
“Maybe I should check on them,” Kiyoko finally said, standing from her perch at the front counter. It was entirely useless though, since in that moment, Hinata and Tobio exploded through the door that led to the kitchen.
“Kiyoko, can I use your phone?!” Tobio yelled, panting. Kiyoko stood facing the two of them, stunned, before she snapped out of it to feel for her phone in her pocket. She tossed it to him, and he immediately fished a piece of paper from his apron, dialing whatever number was on the slip. Kiyoko and Yachi weren’t held in suspense for much longer though, since he called a name into the phone the moment the other end picked up.
“Ushijima-san. Hinata and I figured it out. Can you come to the bakery?”
Kiyoko’s eyes widened in alarm. “Tobio,” she whispered harshly. “You can’t just ask him to abandon whatever he’s doing to-”
“I will be there. I will bring Sakusa, because he is with me right now.” There were sounds of slight rustling, and a quiet background conversation. “He also has good taste, love life notwithstanding.”
Huh. Kiyoko was honestly a little astonished. Not ten minutes later, Ushijima-san and Sakusa-san pulled open the door to the bakery, just as Hinata and Tobio brought out a warm pan of their new recipe. Ushijima-san taste-tested just as he existed, with no change in his expression. He chewed for a concerningly long time, to the point where Sakusa-san shot him a worrying look (he’d swallowed his morsel a while back).
“I’m allowing the flavors to manifest on the palate,” Ushijima explained, monotone. Tobio nodded in support solemnly. Kiyoko felt the bizarre urge to laugh.
“It’s very good,” he finally said. Hinata and Tobio fist-pumped simultaneously, before violently high-fiving in a display of triumph. Then they turned their eyes upon Sakusa-san, whose mouth had appeared only momentarily to feed himself before being covered up by a black mask. The boys waited in bated breath, and it took Sakusa a couple seconds of their collective silence to realize they were waiting for feedback.
“I agree with Wakatoshi-kun,” was all he said, and he proceeded to scrunch his nose and frown when Hinata whooped. Still, Kiyoko couldn’t keep in a breathless laugh. Tobio and Hinata had called in one of the leaders of the Jackals and their most prominent enforcer to taste-test a recipe. The life they were living now was bizarre, but she couldn’t deny how right it felt.
And so it went. Hinata and Tobio’s spiced tiramisu went on the menu. Ushijima-san was now saved in her speed-dial for taste-testing. She’d sometimes find Tobio on the phone with him, having comically monotone conversations. Hinata and Tobio finally began to work together, to an insane degree of success. Sakusa-san called in weekly orders, and chatted idly with Yachi when he came to pick it up.
It was a new normal.
“Hi, Kiyoko-chan! Where’s the little trio?”
Kiyoko looked up from coating focaccia bread dough in olive oil to see not one but both the Miyas at the front of the bakery. If that wasn’t enough cause for alarm, Sakusa-san stepped through the door momentarily, stoic as always. Kiyoko washed her hands, hands shaking just slightly in concern before pulling a towel from the rack and stepping out to the front.
“Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously. Miya Atsumu’s expression morphed into one of confusion before he looked between Kiyoko and Sakusa/Osamu. His eyes lit up in understanding and his relaxed smirk returned.
“We’re not all here for the news, Omi and I are just here to pick up his weekly order of whatever Tobio-kun baked for him today.” Kiyoko relaxed, walking behind the counter to pull out Sakusa’s order from their warmer.
“He went classic today, Sakusa-san. Blueberry muffins, and I think there’s a sample of the rosemary focaccia he and Hinata are trying out.” Kiyoko couldn’t be sure, but she thought Sakusa smiled. Atsumu plucked the bag from her hands, but then he settled onto one of the barstools near the front counter, propping his legs up onto the counter.
“I mean, we’re here now. Might as well stay for the news,” he said, by way of explanation.
Kiyoko folded her arms across her chest, concern painted across her face. Osamu cleared his throat, smiling reassuringly. “It’s actually mostly good news this time, Kiyoko.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard of Aoba Johsai, or Seijoh.” At Kiyoko’s nod, he continued. “They’re generally decent. Sakusa and I’ve been working with their leadership on a possible peace accord, something we could transition into an alliance. The Jackals are strong, and so’s Seijoh, but there are some new players in town, and we wanna make sure they don’t get any ideas.”
“What does this mean for us?” Kiyoko asked, still confused as to why this was news for her.
“Well, the first step in these situations is allowing members of both organizations to travel openly in opposite territories.” At Kiyoko’s look of alarm, Osamu raised a placating hand. “It really is good news, Kiyoko. We’re doubling your pool of customers.”
“Doubling our pool of customers also means increasing the chances of concerning incidents. Need I remind you of an incident involving a metal sheet pan, luck, and children ?”
“They’re literally at most two years younger than us, Kiyoko-chan,” Atsumu drawled. Kiyoko turned a flat stare on him, and he raised both hands in a surrendering gesture.
“There’s more at stake here for them if they misbehave, Kiyoko,” Osamu explained, trying to soothe her concerns.
“Seijoh’s decent, Kiyoko-san. I wouldn’t say that if it weren’t true. I’ll station Wakatoshi-kun with you for the whole day if it makes you feel better.” Sakusa had a look of aggravation on his face; Kiyoko guessed his consternation was probably due to the fact that Atsumu was eating his rapidly-cooling blueberry muffins.
“Yeah, Kiyoko-chan. And their leader is kind of a wimp; he’s whiny and pretty weak. Not to mention, he’s kinda dramatic, like a drama queen.” Kiyoko caught most of that, though it was pretty difficult to decipher around the blueberry muffin in his mouth.
“Actually, Miya, I think he’s a lot like you,” Sakusa struck a lethal blow without a change in the bored expression on his face. “If I didn’t know Osamu was your twin, I’d have thought it was him.” Miya choked, a betrayed expression painted over his face.
“Oooo, he called ya ‘Miya’. Someone’s in troubleeee…” Osamu singsonged under his breath. Sakusa walked out the door without waiting for Atsumu, and Atsumu scrambled to his feet, flipping Osamu the bird before running out the door.
“One thing, Kiyoko.” Osamu walked up to the counter, eyes deadly serious. “I know that asswipe seemed flippant, but Seijoh is a powerful organization. They can’t be powerful if their members are pathetic. ‘Tsumu can say whatever the fuck he wants, because he carries around four guns at all times. Do ya understand what I mean?” Osamu’s stare drilled into her, and she quickly nodded. He smiled then, swiping a cookie from the display swiftly and running out the door before she could berate him.
Kiyoko let out a breath, settling back against the counter. Rationally, she knew everything would be fine; Sakusa-san and Osamu wouldn’t make a decision like this unless they were sure. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was going to happen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It finally happened on a Saturday morning, just after the morning rush, thank god. Kiyoko, Hinata, and Tobio were working in the kitchen, Kiyoko mostly just supervising, when they heard Yachi squeak. Kiyoko peeked out into the front area to see a man loitering just outside the bakery. Upon a second glance, he wasn’t loitering as much as he was second-guessing his decision to enter the bakery.
That was slightly suspicious in and of itself, but what likely caused Yachi to squeak was how clear it was this man was an enforcer. Over the months, all four of them (minus Hinata, who already knew) learnt to identify members of organization based on gait, expression, and a miscellaneous criterion Hinata had named ‘muscles’. Muscles could, however, apply to sheer intimidation as well (as it did in the case of Sakusa-san and Ushijima-san).
The man carried himself like an enforcer, wearing a stern expression on his face. His hair was spiky, and slightly dishevelled. He wasn’t as tall as Ushijima, but made up for that in both muscle mass and intimidation. He was wearing street clothes, but Kiyoko was fully certain this man was an enforcer for Seijoh.
At this point, Hinata and Tobio had joined her in peeking out into the front area, and Yachi had begun to tremble in her shoes. The man seemed to make a decisive choice, pulling the door open. The jingle of the doorbell echoed in the shop, and the man walked forward calmly, with a smile on his face.
None of this seemed to soothe Yachi in the slightest.
In hindsight, Kiyoko likely should have intervened earlier; knowing he was from Seijoh forced her into some sort of permanent spectator role in that moment. She couldn’t fault Hinata and Tobio for not intervening; neither of them knew what was going on, and he did seem a rather threatening stranger.
“Hello,” the man said cheerfully. Yachi squeaked at the sound of his voice, and he slowed in his steps forward, a look of confusion on his face. Still, he soldiered on.
“Well, uh, my name is Iwaizumi Hajime. I’m a member of Seijoh.” Yachi, of course, had heard of Seijoh, but only as a rival organization to the Jackals. Kiyoko watched Yachi’s hand twitch, and she remembered something very important in that moment.
She’d forgotten to tell the trio anything about the peace accord.
“Hitoka-chan, wait-”
But it was too late. Kiyoko watched in dawning horror as Yachi grabbed the nearest thing (this time, a chocolate chip muffin) and launched it at the man (Iwaizumi, apparently). The muffin hit him square in the face before falling to the ground, the light thud sounding much more violent in line with her heartbeat.
Then Hinata and Tobio started to laugh.
God, Kiyoko was going to be singlehandedly responsible for a war. Not that she would see any of it, considering they would all be dead .
She should’ve just gotten a loan from the bank.