Chapter Text
Even with the lights on, the cash register still was dark. Perhaps its location in the corner of the book store caused the phenomenon, but Akaashi could never say for certain. Uplifting the whole structure towards the bright windows on the other wall was far too great of a hassle for a job in which he didn’t particularly extend himself. Plus the corner set up was its own comfy world where Akaashi watched the news and read over his latest reports as people milled in and out of the entrance to the left. Convenient and practical. Dark, sure, but what was a little darkness?
Today was particularly slow. It was a Thursday after all. The sun was in high radiation, beckoning people away from the closed off world of books and shaded lights. There was much to do in the world and far less to do in a place of fiction, though Akaashi never understood the appeal of the former.
But at least this draw allowed him to play his TV. A tiny thing it was with a screen about the size of his foot, and a squeaky mic that spoke like a mouse. The news was on, whispers of traffic and weather played as well as cheesy advertisements.
All of it drifted through Akaashi’s ears as he hung over his paperwork, securing the logistics of his latest request. His location, drive, and activities were documented at times that overlapped. As they should. All his weapons were stored correctly (he checked three times), and the people who’d caught glimpses of him were limited to a single person. But everything on that end he took care of as well. Any speaking up would do nothing to ensure a long life.
Everything checked out, Akaashi concluded. Now all that he waited on was…
“CEO Hitomiko Kenshi passed away yesterday. Authorities suspect suicide as he was found to have overdosed in an alleyway by a bar. They’re still waiting for a confirmation on this claim but this looks to be the most likely course of action.”
Akaashi exhaled a slow breath and placed a circle on the top of the report. He fought the urge to fill it in, telling himself to wait a little longer. As long as the case remained open, a trail still led to him.
Clicking off the TV, Akaashi slid the report into his files. He lifted the tile under his chair and placed the documents inside. A precautionary measure installed to keep such proceedings. There were many more files stored in the hidden pocket. For years Akaashi’s trail was clean, but he trusted that someone would accuse him eventually.
With an empty desk and not much to humor himself with for the next few hours, Akaashi took to lighting the candles around his desk. The first four always lit up hungrily, but the last possessed an ox’s stubbornness and refused to believe the light was good for him. Akaashi lit it many times but to no avail. The candle would not catch.
His efforts were equally as fruitless, but to his luck an hour fell away.
He knew because the door opened. The six o’clock man was there, strolling through the entrance with hair that resembled a witch’s broom. Tangles stuck out in dark chaotic strands. His eye bags had a wickedness to them as well. The dark corner of Akaashi’s desk was far brighter than them.
“Welcome sir. What brings you in today?” Akaashi asked. “My apologies, but we’re out of Zombieland. However, the next shipment comes in next Tuesday.”
“Oh no worries that’s fine,” the six o’clock man said with the shake of his hand. “I’m not here for those this time actually. My story in that genre has ended actually so there wouldn’t be much use for them.”
“Well is there something else I can help you find then?” Akaashi asked. “There’s reference books for new ideas.”
“Actually I wanted to check out murder mysteries,” the man said. “I’ve heard there’s been a few going around. Seems timely.”
“Books?” Akaashi asked, not sparing a second glance. He jotted down a few notes on a sticky pad.
“No murders themselves. I thought it would be interesting to look into,” the man said. “Maybe I‘d even be able to figure out one. Get a reward or something.”
“Perhaps. Do you think your next story is going about this then?”
The six o’clock man shook his head. “Oh no no. I’m only looking for inspiration, though the idea of solving a murder seems fun. But really, I have no clue what to write next.”
“Well I hope these pull you from your slump,” Akaashi said. “Here's the numbers and sections. I hope one suits your interest. I wrote down a recommendation as well.”
“Oh. Thank you. I’m surprised; you never give recommendations.”
“The book’s only an old required reading I enjoyed. Hope it meets your interest. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I’ll make sure to check it out! Thank you for your help.”
The six o’clock man then bounded off with Akaashi’s note in hand. Akaashi watched as the other made his ways to the shelves before settling back into his chair to try his luck with the candle once more. No avail came again.
With a sigh, Akashi turned his attention to the grand bookshelves standing throughout the room. They didn’t quite reach the vast gold ceiling, a good two foot difference. The shelves themselves were mahogany and sucked up the shine from the overhead lights. Akaashi sometimes wondered if that was the reason his own spot at the cash register was dreary. Everything save for the walls seemed to be made of that wood. Those were red and covered in book covers and portraits of famous authors.
Akaashi told his dad when he opened the store it was far too gaudy. The golden plaques for the shelves oozed of wealth. It drew attention to itself, something Akaashi didn’t believe any sort of killers needed. But his father, in his typical fashion, was confident. Wealth to the rest of the world painted success, he claimed. No one bothered to look behind it.
It was the perfect disguise.
To his father’s credit, years of ease passed over the bookstore excluding the one vandalism event. However, that fiasco resolved quickly.
Akaashi reached down to check his phone and stared at only the time. No new messages. How typical. Murder or not Akaashi garned no words.
A jingle cut behind him, and he turned to look. Two dark coats dragged on the ground, ruffling as they stopped at the register. Two men stared down at him, each possessing stiff faces. That excluded the blonde man’s hollow creases around his eyes. They drooped with a heavy weight. Upon a second inspection, Akaashi noticed all the wrinkles in his outfit and trash threatening to spill from his pocket. The other was far more put together, bigger too, but Akaashi thought his brown hair was too wild.
“Welcome. Is there something you need help with?” Akaashi asked as the blonde man strode closer. “Any specific book you’re looking for.”
“No thanks,” the man said with a firm shake of his head. “We’re not looking for anything like that.”
“A DVD then? Those are on the back right shelf.”
“No, not that either. We’re looking for a person actually.”
Akaashi permitted himself to blink thrice, alarm drawing his face wide. But his gut remained calm, and the only thoughts running through his brain was the speed in which he could grab his nearest weapon.
“A person? I’m terribly sorry but we only sell books and other forms of media here. The police station would be the place you’re looking for. I can give directions.” Akaashi said.
“Actually, We already checked there,” he said with a sigh. “I’m afraid we didn’t find who we were looking for.” The man grinned at that moment, “So we came here instead after learning a certain Akaashi Keiji was here. Could you help us find him?”
Three seconds to draw his knife and send it through the man’s throat. The second man would only take a moment longer.
“Well I guess your search is over then,” Akaashi said instead. “It’s nice to meet you. What can I assist you with?”
“Oh so you’re the man? I’d like to have a little chat then. In private please. It’ll only take a moment. Just me by the way.”
The other man nodded. His arms were crossed and chest puffed. He was tall and strong but nothing Akaashi found himself worrying over
“Could you wait until after closing? We were short staffed today so I’m the only one here. I don’t want to risk having no one to watch over everything.”
“I don’t think safety will be an issue,” the man said. “See this man here is a part of the police.”
“Daichi Sawamura,” the other man said with a nod.
“I’m with him as well, a detective actually. We also have some of the force out front to keep everyone safe.”
“That seems a little excessive for… well I don’t quite understand what you need me for.” Akaashi said.
“I promise this will only be a few questions then you’ll be on your way back to work.”
“Well I suppose that will work. You have the authority here anyways. I have an office upstairs. Will that do?” Akaashi asked.
“That’s perfect.” A grin. Akaashi hated it. But he kept his face clean and innocent as he grabbed his eyes and knife before leading the man across the floor. They went to the back of the store as Daichi stayed put.Climbing up a flight of stairs, they reached the second level. Akaashi nodded to the six o’clock man along the way before stopping at the back door marked with a white employee's only sign. After unlocking it, Akaashi escorted the man down a dark hallway and into his office on the left.
It was cramped with only a single desk and a tall filing cabinet. To the man’s luck, Akaashi did have two chairs.
“Take a seat,” Akaashi pointed to the one on the opposite side of the desk. The man took it but didn’t sit until Akaashi did.
“Anyways, who are you? Why are the police here? Is there something wrong with a customer? Or is it something I’ve done? I’m afraid I can’t recall anything that would warrant a visit.”
The man chuckled with a slight shake of his head. A quease tightened Akaashi’s stomach, and he calculated it would only take a second to retrieve his gun and another to shoot it. The muffler was on. No one would hear. The only thing left would be dealing with Daich and the force outside. He’d have a head start, but he’d be found quickly with his name known.
“I’m Konoha Akinori,” the man said, Akaashi’s head still rambling. “A detective as I previously mentioned. And there’s no need to hide Akaashi Keiji. I know what you are and that you’re thinking about how to get rid of me. Not a great plan I’d say.”
Ice spread through Akaashi’s chest, but he blinked and tilted his head to the side, melting into innocence.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean detective. I’d go to prison for that. I’m sorry, but I don’t want a life behind bars.”
Something whizzed by Akaashi’s face. He didn’t glitch nor did he feel the cut on his cheek as it hit the wall.
Konoha smirked at him, another knife in hand. The smug features engraved into his face pulled at Akaashi’s self restraint.
“No reaction to flying weapons,” Konoha said. “Incredibly high pain tolerance, excellent ability at lying. You’re definitely no innocent person, hitman.”
Akaashi scrunched his face in disgust. The word was a sour thing to be spat out. But his mind worked on how to get rid of Konoha’s body.
“A hitman? I beg your pardon but that’s an awfully rude claim to make. Why would anyone partake in such violent acts?” Akaashi shivered. “Murderers… I’m sorry sir I believe you have the wrong guy. I couldn’t imagine doing such things.”
Konoha rolled his eyes. “You can drop the act now. I don’t need it. Though I must say your politeness is quite effective.”
“But I’m not–“
Konoha flashed his phone at Akaashi. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark lighting and green night vision images, but when he did he saw the face of his victim, Hitomiko with a girl in his arms. In one instance the two were fighting, in the next a third figure joined the mix and within a second the man was down. The lady and new man spoke for a while and as they did do, the camera focused on their faces. Akaashi’s features covered the screen.
“I’m assuming this is you?”
With nothing to hide, Akaashi’s shoulder eased and his eyes narrowed. Konoha flinched.
“Say that is me, where does that leave us now?” Akaashi asked. “Do you plan on arresting me because there are various ways I get out of this right now, most of which I foresee you not being alive.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Konoha said. “See after a certain amount of time Daichi and my force will break in here. You won’t be seeing the light of day any time soon. So there’s that or you can listen to me.”
“Why should I do that?” Akaashi asked. “I don’t see much of a way out except killing you and your entire squadron. If I start now I could get it done within ten minutes with a substantial head start for anyone else to find me.”
“Now now, don’t get too hasty,” Konoha said. “I have a proposal to keep you without any charges.”
Akaashi arched a brow. “Oh? And what is it?”
“See the force doesn’t yet know about this video. Only I do because this was on a camera I planted. That’s probably why you never noticed,” Konoha said. “Anyways, if you make a deal with me, you and I walk out of here together with no one getting arrested or dying. Your record will be completely clean.”
Akaashi weighed his options. It wouldn’t hurt to know. It’d be far easier in any case. “Go on.” He said.
“I would like to use your skills.”
“Wow a detective hiring a hitman? That is one for the books I must say. A very clever crime.”
“Not for that,” Konoha said. “I need your abilities to protect someone.”
“Protect?” The word tasted foreign. An other worldly spice that burned.
“Yes,” Konoha said. “That and other pieces of your knowledge, See, I hunt serial killers. Recently there has been one going through the sports scene. You’ve probably heard of them.”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Really?”
“Do you honestly think all killers are co-conspirators?”
“Jeez no need to get all smart here. Anyways, there has been one going around the volleyball scene who we haven’t been able to track down. They’ve taken five victims so far, the last one being a friend of mine.”
The bags under Konoha’s heaved.
“Sorry for your loss.”
Konoha snorted. “Aren’t you funny? Anyways, I have another friend in the pro volleyball scene as well. He’s popular too, and we’re seeing that makes him a target. And as much of a pain he is, I couldn’t forgive myself if anything bad happened to him. So I want you to protect him.”
It was Akaashi’s turn to snort.
“You want a murderer to protect your friend from another murderer? I’m sorry to say this but this plan of yours is quite thoughtless.”
“On the contrary; you have better knowledge of murder and how murderers think. You can anticipate our killer’s movements.”
“Konoha-san, if I may, hitmen and serial killers are quite different. Both are remorseless, I’ll give you that, but killing gives me no pleasure. It’s a job, something I’ve spent my life training to do. A profession if you may. Regulated and defined. Serial killers are sporadic and unpredictable. They’re created from passion and lust, possessing a chase for thrill. Their rhyme and reason is intangible.”
“But there are patterns and amongst both your lines of killings,” Konoha said. “And someone of your observation skills could look at those and dictate how to handle them. Not only that, but your precision could skillfully get rid of any unwanted enemies.”
Akaashi fell silent, pondering these thoughts. For now, money was no issue, nor was his survival by any capacity. There would be at least a few months before his next request came anyways.
The store could find its own management as well. His dad wasn’t that busy.
“Fine, but I need you to agree to some conditions.”
“Shoot.”
Akaashi narrowed his eyes. “One, you discard your files of me and make sure that video is deleted. No one gets their hands on it, got it? Next, you remove all suspicion of this place from your database. Lastly once this over you let me continue about my business and keep all my records clean. Alright?”
“You have a deal.”