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The thing about weddings is not the extravagance of floral arrangements nor the food that comes after the ceremony (though Haru would be lying if he says he does not look forward to receptions). But more than those, he likes the romanticism of it all -- from the promises of life happily ever after to the exchanging of rings.
Divorce happens, too, but he is not going to dwell on that.
Katou Haru likes weddings. The tears he shed during his sister's wedding should be proof enough. Of course, he would like to be the one standing on the altar someday. He doesn't know when. He doesn't even know who is going to be standing beside him when the time comes.
But he fervently hopes it would be him--
"Argh!" Haru slaps his forehead. He must have groaned out loud because he starts receiving weird stares from passersby while he makes his way to the MPD.
It's the sleep deprivation talking. Thinking . He stayed up late last night, rewatching season six of Cry To the Sun (for the 20th time, but no one needs to know that.) The last episode he watched before crashing to sleep was Inspector Asano proposing to Watanabe, the fake CEO of the dummy company used to help Asano in nabbing criminals.
Maybe Haru got a little too emotional over the words uttered during the proposal, he brought the feelings over the next day.
It doesn't have anything to do with him. Hahaha not at all. It's the episode, of course.
His supposedly brief detour to the convenience store has taken him a bit longer than anticipated. Haru just wanted iced coffee to perk him up, but was held back because the manager was yelling at the store clerk for "not stocking the herbal drinks".
After a stern warning from Haru to the manager to not humiliate his subordinates in public, and with his iced coffee in hand, Haru announces his arrival to the MCPD.
Surprisingly, he receives enthusiastic replies.
Too enthusiastic, if he daresays.
"Good morning, Katou-san! Congratulations!" Kamei exclaims, throwing an arm around Haru's shoulders. Haru looks at everyone around the room, confused at the festive mood they are having -- Saeki throws him shredded papers as some sort of confetti. Teppei is passing around a baseball cap filled with paper bills, urging Chief Kiyomizu to "pay up, Boss!" And Kambe…
Kambe is the least festive among them, that's to be expected. But what Haru doesn't quite understand is the look of horror in his face, his forehead scrunched into a frown as his eyes dart from Haru to Kamei.
"What's going on?" Haru asks. Instead of getting an answer, Kamei steers him to his desk, taking Haru's bag and iced coffee, and pushing his shoulders down so Haru sits on his chair. "Kamei--"
"I can't believe it's true!" Saeki squeals as she throws more shredded paper above the inspector's head.
"What's true?"
Cho-san places a steaming cup of green tea in front of him just as Kamei does the same with the coffee. Haru looks at the ceramic cup and notes that it's the premium blend the old man drinks on special occasions.
Helplessly, Haru turns to Daisuke because no one seems to want to answer his question. Finally getting his dilemma, Daisuke clears his throat, catching everyone's attention.
"There is a grave misunderstanding in my announcement," he says. Haru grabs his iced coffee and takes a long sip in curious anticipation. He observes the millionaire's (handso-- stop it) face, the minute changes in the way his eyebrows arch before relaxing, and how his eyes… refuse to look at Haru as he takes a breath to prepare what he is about to say.
And what he says does not prepare Haru at all.
He blames the shot of caffeine coursing through his veins as to why his heart is beating fast and loud against his chest. It's the palpitations.
It's not because his heart just shattered into tiny pieces like a goddamn glass. How can that be? Haru still hasn't dropped dead.
But a part of him surely feels like it.
--
You are cordially invited
to the wedding of
Kambe Daisuke
and
Hamada Yoichiro
Saturday, First of May Twenty Twenty Two
At One in the afternoon
Four Seasons Hotel Tokyo at Marunouchi
--
Daisuke isn't around when Haru arrives the following morning. It's a normal occurrence since Rich Boy thinks being part of the police force is a mere hobby.
It's a laz ier day for the Modern Crimes department. There are no phone calls asking for assistance. There are no paperworks to be accomplished nor any case files to be stored away. Nothing. Nada. Tokyo is peaceful today just when Haru wants to do something.
Anything. Anything that would let him get away from this room so he won't have to stare at the empty desk of Daisuke across his. It's fucking ridiculous how Haru's eyes keep on darting at that spot because Daisuke's absence is nothing out of the ordinary and Haru would normally just shrug his shoulders and carry on with his tasks.
But there is no task to be had. Not even a quick trip to the konbini.
Okay, so maybe there is something that needs to be done. For weeks, there has been a drug case the MPD is following. Unfortunately, there are still no solid networks, no concrete evidence that will lead to the drug lord, or if these series of cases are in any way connected to one another.
And Daisuke, for all Haru knows, could be in London right now getting fitted for his wedding tuxedo. Or perhaps in the Netherlands to look at Holland tulips for flower arrangements. Or maybe in a Parisian bakery sampling cakes and pastries with his husband-to-be.
At first, Haru thought it might be the Gondawara-gumi behind the rise of deaths caused by overdose. However, he quickly dismissed the idea since Isezaki uses party drugs.
And maybe they're smiling while feeding each other cake.
Or maybe they are arguing over cake choices because Hamada is probably convincing Daisuke to eat red velvet, something the Kambe scion hates ("It's just food coloring, Inspector. There is nothing special to it.")
And their little argument over cake choices will lead to them breaking off their engagement, Haru thinks cynically. Because if they cannot reach a common ground on cakes, how much more when they are faced with choices affecting their whole lives?
But maybe they'll make up after reaching a compromise -- a black velvet cake covered with 24k gold leaves.
Haru smashes his head on his desk, loud enough for Kamei to let out a shriek.
"Man, what's happening with you?"
Everything is happening to him.
His chest feels heavy from… from what, exactly? Guilt for having an ill wish, no matter how brief, that his co-worker's marriage won't work?
But why did Haru have such thoughts in the first place?
He turns his head to look at Kamei as if he holds the answer to the tightness Haru feels in his chest.
Maybe he does know why. Maybe he is just refusing to name the emotion because if he does, Haru would just feel more miserable.
--
With the wedding all so sudden and fast approaching, Daisuke is barely seen in the office. Whenever he is around, however, he can't even be bothered as he is always talking to someone through HEUSC.
Haru doesn't pay it any mind, until his ears pick up "Hamada-san" . He watches surreptitiously between the partitions of their desks as Daisuke, who is now also wearing his sunglasses, begins to gesture to the air, flicking his wrist as if the air is his huge touchscreen.
Maybe Hamada sent him a Pinterest board for weddings, and Kambe’s scrolling through every picture.
Daisuke’s voice is hushed, barely above whisper. It all but reminds the inspector of when they were trapped inside the locker in the First Division’s office, with Daisuke’s body pressed oh so closely to his in that cramped space. When Daisuke’s annoyed frown was directed to him and his harsh whispers of wanting to get out of the locker was a jab to Haru.
And now they are all reserved for someone else that’s not Haru.
Somewhere in the office, Haru can hear music being played faintly. It’s when he blinks and realizes it’s 12 pm and all their co-workers have gone to go for lunch break. He follows where the sound is coming from, cursing Kamei in his head for forgetting to turn off his playlist.
Well, at least it’s better than hearing a woman’s moan getting blasted on the speakers.
As he wheels himself towards Kamei’s desk to pause the music, Haru, in his limited English proficiency, gets to understand the words the singer croons out.
“That should be me holding your hand.
That should be me making you laugh.
That should be me. This is so sad.”
On second thought, listening to porn sounds so much better that… whatever this shit is, Haru thinks as he may or may not have hit pause with the enter button a bit more forcefully than intended.
“Katou.”
“What?!” Haru balks at the tone of his own voice rising and mutters an apology when he sees Daisuke standing behind him with a nonchalant stare, which then morphs into an amused smirk as he says, “I didn’t know English songs make you aggravated.”
The older man flushes in embarrassment. “Shut up,” he grumbles and stands. “What is it?”
“I need your suggestion on the best onigiri in 7-eleven.”
This time, it’s Haru who looks at the millionaire with a blank stare. “You need my what?”
“Your palette.” This is far from the most ridiculous request Daisuke has asked Haru of. He finds himself not even remotely surprised that Daisuke doesn’t know his way to rice balls, a Japanese staple.
As if on cue, his stomach rumbles. The sound only brings Daisuke’s smirk back and Haru’s face tinged with pink once more. “It’s a normal biological function, so shut up.”
The millionaire shrugs in lieu of answering. “Let’s go, Inspector.”
7-eleven is only a quick trek from the office, yet it feels it’s taken them forever to get to their destination. It’s quiet between them, which is normal if Haru isn’t thinking actively about the silence. Should he strike a conversation? What will he say to Daisuke? Hey, how’s the weather? Aren’t you sweating in that stiff jacket of yours? Haha, oh right. You have a built-in cooling system in your shirts.
“Hamada-san wanted to meet you.”
That can be their conversation… only Haru doesn’t know how to wade through it, nor does he know if he even wants to partake in it.
Without letting the older man reply, Daisuke continues. “He booked everyone in our department rooms at Four Seasons in hopes of meeting everyone.”
Ah, of course. It’s not unusual for someone’s future spouse to get to know the people close to his fiance.
“How did you…” Haru trails off. There is a sudden ache in his chest, coiling tightly around his ribcage and making it hard for him to breathe. He does not want this. He does not want to talk about Hamada.
But it would be unfair to Daisuke, who means no ill will with what he said. So, Haru takes a deep breath and presses on. “How did you two meet?” He asks. “You’ve never mentioned him, nor anyone that you’re dating.”
“Our families set us up. Arranged marriage, if you will,” Daisuke answers. He pulls Haru’s arm so that the inspector continues to walk. With a chuckle, he adds, “These kinds of arrangements are more common than you think. More so because Hamada-san is the son of the CEO of PharmaHamada while I’m posed to succeed my father in all the dealings of the Kambe family.”
Haru can’t help the words he says next. “You’re willing to marry a man for power?” At that, Daisuke stops tugging his arm and turns to face him. There is a small frown creasing his forehead. “Marriage is supposed to be a celebration of love--”
“There’s no such thing as love for a pawn like me and Hamada-san.”
Daisuke does not yell. He never does, as far as Haru knows. But that statement, spoken so calmly, is enough for Haru to stop.
And stop he does because while they’re in the middle of the sidewalk, a lady walking beside them collapses. Daisuke lets go of Haru’s arm just as quickly as Haru shakes his hand off. He sits on the ground and lays the woman on her back while Haru moves to elevate her legs.
“Miss, can you hear us?” the millionaire asks, receiving no response. Quickly, he reaches for her bag and finds her wallet, containing her ID. Daisuke then pulls out his sunglasses from his coat and scans the ID. “HEUSC, contact the nearest hospital and tell them there is a woman passed out near the Red Brick Building.”
“Yes, sir.”
Daisuke continues to rummage the woman’s bag. What for, Haru doesn’t know. The millionaire doesn’t explain.
He doesn’t say the reason behind his grimace when he pulls out a purple bottle that has the label Booster-B.
--
When there is booze promised, expect Kamei and Saeki to be the ones pulling at everyone’s arms to get wasted. It doesn’t help that everyone in the Modern Crimes Department is on leave.
Forced vacation leave, if Haru is to be specific. He knows better than to question Chief Kiyomizu’s integrity and how he can easily bend because of a free hotel accommodation for four days.
It’s less than 48 hours before the wedding. Aside from the brief and curt greeting in the hotel lobby, they still haven’t had the chance to sit down and introduce themselves to Hamada Yoichiro because he has to answer an important phone call.
Even in his heartbroken state, Haru can’t find himself to think ill of the man. Yoichiro seems nice and polite, offering them warm smiles and going as far as to booking spa appointments for them as a way to “thank the people protecting the city of Tokyo.” Haru refused. Yoichiro has given them a lot already. But the man just smiled at him and patted his shoulder before heading towards the elevator.
On second thought, Haru should have just gone with the appointment.
The strobe of lights is making his head pound as he downs shots after shots of tequila. The bartender looks at him with great concern before his attention gets called by another patron. The club isn’t as crowded as Haru would expect on a Friday night. The crowd is big enough for him to feel the heat and unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt, but it isn’t thick enough for bodies to bump against his.
Except for the bare forearm of the newcomer coming in to sit beside him on the counter. Haru follows the trail of that delicious arm and feels his breath hitch to see that the arm is connected to none other than Daisuke. He must have felt the heat, too, for him to roll his sleeves up to his elbows.
It’s the most skin Haru has seen from the man.
And wow does it look enticing.
Dammit, Tequila.
“Saeki-san thought you bailed on us already,” Daisuke says, leaning in close to Haru’s ear so that his voice can be heard. Haru suppresses a shudder at the feel of the millionaire’s hot breath tickling the shell of his ear. “And all along, you’re here having fun with your shots.”
Haru scoffs. He is not having fun.
He doesn’t want to be here at Daisuke’s impromptu stag party (read: not a stag party but an excuse for Kamei and Saeki to get wasted.) He doesn’t want a reminder that this night is their last hurrah before Daisuke gets married.
He wants to be at the spa appointment. Sure, it’s booked by Yoichiro. But at least Haru will be too relaxed to even think of anything other than the knot on his shoulder has finally been loosened.
Instead, Haru says, “I’ll bring them their drinks. Just go back.” That probably sounds unconvincing because Daisuke doesn’t move at all.
“Have you told the bartender of your order already?”
No, he hadn’t.
“Thought so.” Daisuke calls the bartender and tells him their colleagues’ choice of drinks. It doesn’t take them long before Haru’s walking back to their booth, tailing behind Daisuke with two glasses on each of their hands.
It also doesn’t take that long for Haru to succumb to inebriation, leaning his head on Kamei’s shoulder while the taller man guffaws at Daisuke’s panicked expression when a scantily clad man climbs on his lap and starts grinding on his crotch.
The last thing Haru knows is Teppei admitting to be the one who contacted the stripper before falling asleep.
So, it is completely understandable how the next day, he lashes out on Daisuke for a sin Haru has committed.
--
Haru drags his feet towards the restaurant for breakfast, the call of hunger far outweighing the dread of hangover.
Jealousy and alcohol are two things that should never be combined. But as long as he wakes up with painkillers and a glass of water the morning after wasting the night away with expensive booze, Haru thinks he'll be okay.
He doesn't know where the painkillers came from nor how he got from the bar to his room. Whoever it was that took care of him, Haru offers a silent thanks to them.
After the maître d' confirms his room number, Haru opts for a light breakfast, placing a few slices of toast and a croissant on his plate. He isn't sure if he can stomach anything heavy right now or risk throwing up. Satisfied with his choices, Haru then goes to look for a vacant table.
And sees Kambe Daisuke sitting by the window overlooking the train station. Instead of wearing his usual pristinely ironed dress shirts, the millionaire dons a cream-colored jacket zipped up all the way to his chin. Pairing with his casual clothing is his hair, usually slicked back, free from any hair products.
Had Haru not seen Daisuke outside of his rich boy attire, he wouldn't have recognized the man even if he tried.
Daisuke has his chin propped on his hand, his head turned towards the window when Haru comes to approach his table. He doesn't seem to have noticed the inspector when he places his plate down, so Haru taps on Daisuke's shoulder.
Only for Daisuke to jolt in surprise, hitting his knee on the leg of the table.
"Are you okay?" Haru asks as he sits on the empty seat across Daisuke, amusement creeping in his voice. To see the uptight millionaire this casual and unguarded is a sight to behold.
Daisuke nods as he surreptitiously rubs his knee from the impact. "I'm fine. Perhaps a bit sleepy after last night's festivities," he says. The mention of last night brings a sudden pang on Haru's chest, but he tries to stomp the feeling down. He notices Daisuke eyeing the toast on his plate, so Haru urges him to get one.
“You weren’t drunk last night, as far as I can remember,” Haru says as he grabs the croissant and breaks it in half with the use of the bread knife placed on his right. “You got tired from trying not to push the stripper off of your lap?”
Daisuke snorts in his toast. “The stripper was the least of my concerns,” he replies. “Or were you too drunk last night not to remember anything?”
Haru frowns. “Did something happen last night?”
The millionaire doesn’t answer right away. His eyes become unfocused for a moment, a whirlwind of emotions that Haru can’t discern flashes, before Daisuke schools his expression back to neutral.
"You kissed me last night."
The sound of cutlery hitting the polished marble floor is deafening, until all the clanking noises of spoons hitting plates become static to Haru's ears. He sees Daisuke's lips move, but he can't hear what the millionaire is saying, focused only on one thing.
Kissed.
Last night.
Haru…
No, that's not right.
He's lying.
He's making fun of Haru.
Daisuke--
"Katou."
Haru's thoughts come to a screeching halt, with Daisuke's voice pulling him back to the present.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
The inspector shakes his head no. He lets go of his croissant as his hands are trembling from the revelation. Across him, Daisuke finishes his toast. “When you passed out on Kamei’s shoulder, I took it upon myself to return you to your room because they still wanted to stay behind,” he says. “The moment we entered your room was the time you kissed me and told me you...liked me.”
Haru feels his stomach drop as dread starts to creep in, making him more nauseous than what his hangover is making him feel.
This is not the way he wanted Daisuke to know about how he feels (felt?) for the man. What Haru wants? It is for these feelings to die silently and let it fester until he moves on and until his heart gets fixed and he finds another person.
He runs a hand to his face and takes a deep breath.
It only makes his throat hurt.
“I’m sorry.” Because an apology is the right thing to say. And confirming the truth is the only way Haru sees before he can truly move on. “It’s… it’s true that I have feelings for you. But me being drunk and my feelings aren’t an excuse for my act.”
It’s true.
It’s why he’s confused why the millionaire replies with a “why?”
It’s common sense.
“Because you’re getting married tomorrow? Because I can’t very well still continue on catching these feelings for a soon-to-be wedded man?”
Because even if you say this is an arranged marriage, you haven’t done anything to stop it from continuing. For all I know, you have let yourself fall in love with a fellow pawn who isn’t allowed to love like you.
Because I do not want to be a third party. I do not want to be a homewrecker.
Because who am I to stop love?
Who am I, anyway, if not for a lovesick fool who has to collect the pieces of his broken heart?
Haru doesn’t know if he’s managed to say those out loud, but he doesn’t care. His mind is hazy and all he wants is to crawl back to his bed and sleep.
Without another word, he stands up from his seat. What more is there to say, anyway?
But just as he’s about to leave, the man sitting on the table behind Daisuke moves to theirs. Compared to Daisuke’s loungewear, he is wearing an exquisite-looking three-piece suit, his black hair coiffed neatly. Crow’s feet line the corners of his eyes, signifying his age. The more he stares at the stranger, the more Haru thinks he looks like--
“Hamada-san.” Daisuke nods in acknowledgement, standing up to greet the man. “I wasn’t expecting to meet you here today. Had I known, I would’ve worn a more appropriate choice of clothes.”
The man, Hamada, laughs heartily. “You don’t have to be so formal with me, Kambe. You’ll be my son-in-law soon, after all!” He laughs some more. The sound only serves to make Haru more nauseous. If he’s sitting behind Daisuke, surely he’s heard of the confessions.
But Hamada doesn’t say anything. A woman, who seems to be around the same age as Hamada, sidles up next to him. “I wasn’t sure if it was Kambe-san’s voice I was hearing,” she says. “I guess I was right.”
Daisuke nods again. “Hamada-san. Dr. Brown,” he starts. “This is Katou Haru, my colleague in the Modern Crimes Department.”
Haru bows his head in greeting.
“Katou,” Daisuke says, and it’s his deep baritone that makes Haru’s stomach swoop. “This is Hamada Yukito, the father of Yoichiro. And this is Dr. Farrah Brown, the owner of Brown Medical Hospital in Shibuya.” At that, Dr. Brown extends her hand, to which Haru accepts, shaking briefly before pulling away.
“It’s, ah, nice to meet you.” Haru forces to smile. He just wants to get out of here. “I’m… I was just about to go back to my room, if you don’t mind?”
“It’s fine, Katou-san,” Farrah says. “We’ll see each other around?”
Haru bows his head once more before finally taking his leave.
--
The moment he goes back to his room, Haru wills himself to fall back to sleep. At this point, he doesn't know if his hangover's the one making his head pound or Daisuke's revelation that he, Katou Haru, kissed Kambe Daisuke, a very much taken man.
Ughhhhh what the fuck, Haru????
He turns to his stomach, burying his face on the pillow and pulls the duvet until he is fully covered. If only the bed can swallow him and never spit him out.
Ughhhhhhhhhhh
But try as he might, Haru just can't fall asleep after tossing and turning for a good hour or so, until he decides to just lie on his back.
And try as he might, he can't just seem to remember last night apart from the disinterested stare Daisuke was giving the stripper grinding and writhing on his lap.
Haru isn't the type to blackout when drunk. He gets noisy and emotional about his favorite detective drama, sure. But flatout not remembering anything?
Maybe he was noisy, whining at Daisuke about…. about what exactly?
Emotional…
Fuckkkkk!
Haru groans out loud.
"Did I fucking confess to him?" Haru asks no one in particular. Maybe he did after all. Why else would he kiss the man?
Absentmindedly, Haru's hand traces the seams of his lips, trying to feel if his phantom touch can awaken any drunken memories residing in the dark recesses of his brain… only to slap himself.
He can't do this.
He shouldn't do this.
It's wrong to even be imagining what could have happened because nothing should have happened in the first place! It's morally wrong to think of Daisuke that way . It's morally wrong for Haru to let these feelings run deeper than they already are.
And so with a sigh, he blindly reaches for his messenger bag placed on the floor beside the bed, hoping to distract his mind from more thoughts.
...and finds himself on the floor after reaching a bit too far and completely losing his balance, falling hip first on the carpet.
So this is his fate now -- heartbroken because his crush is getting married tomorrow. Loathing because he may have just committed adultery (and no, Haru doesn't care if the act was committed prior to the wedding ceremony. The fact still remains that the man he kissed drunkenly is soon to be married.) And to top them all off, his right hip is throbbing from the impact, and Haru can't help but groan in pain.
Still, Haru finally manages to grab the strap of his messenger bag and pulls it towards him, rummaging through its contents and pulling out the notebook he always brings with him.
What better way to distract his unruly mind than to work?
Climbing back up to the bed, Haru moves to lean against the headboard and flips his notebook open. It contains scribbles and messy handwritings of thoughts and ideas he sometimes gets for a case when he's outside the office, jotting down as many as he can so he can review them once more.
Drug case.
Right. The MPD has been dealing with a sudden surge of drug-related cases over the past month, yet still not bearing any fruit. Haru knows better than to meddle with a case that's not even passed to the Modern Crimes.
But then again, he won't be Katou Haru if he does not stick his nose on a case he shouldn't even be in. He reads the notes he wrote, trying to make sense of some words scribbled hastily on the paper.
1 - cause of death: heart attack
2 - COD: organ failure
7 - COD: ???
He flips the page, only to see stains of blank ink bleeding from the front from writing hard. And as with the result like the last time he opened this notebook, Haru is still stuck.
Drugs.
Reminds Haru of the time he first worked on a case with Daisuke.
Truly worked with him.
If the millionaire is here, would Haru find any leads? Will he tell Haru what he knows now, share some intel and not keep him in the dark?
Daisuke seems to know his way with regards to drugs.
Daisuke.
Dais-- ughh!!
The amount of internal groaning Haru has done in the past hour is outstanding, so he is no longer shameful when he lets out another drawn out "ugh" when he looks back down to his notebook and notices he's written Daisuke's name subconsciously.
Haru really should listen to what he, himself, had said back in the restaurant -- that he will move on because catching feelings for him is not right.
That catching feelings for Kambe Daisuke, soon to be the husband of Hamada Yoichiro, is bad.
He lies back down on the bed, lifting the notebook up to his face and stares at the messily written name of Daisuke.
"--is is Katou Haru, my colleague in the Modern Crimes Department."
Tch. Colleague.
"Katou, this is Hamada Yukito… and this is Dr. Farrah Brown."
Haru does not need to know who they are since he won't be part of their circle.
Does he?
"Hamada-san is the son of the CEO of PharmaHamada."
"So, an heir to the family like you."
And who is Haru the heir to? Katou's special family recipes?
Hold on.
Haru sits upright, ignoring the throb on his forehead from the sudden movement, and writes Hamada Yoichiro next to Daisuke's name. He then encircles Hamada at least twice and jots down what he knows below the name.
> CEO - PharmaHamada
> Yukito / Brown
Brown.
Who is she?
Hastily, Haru grabs his phone from the night stand and opens his browser. Surely, someone as influential as Kambe Daisuke will marry someone who is equally on his status. Surely, there are news articles written about PharmaHamada.
"Hamada Yukito optimistic for 2021 financial growth."
"Hamada Yukito and Dr. Farrah Brown: the future of modern medicine."
"CEO of PharmaHamada shows farms in Chiba. The cows are cute!"
Haru opens the first two tabs (he may or may not have taken a quick look on the third result. He wants to see if the cows indeed look cute, okay?) and skims through the articles, taking note of anything he deems might be important.
> partnership with Farrah B - projected 102% bottomline growth
> Farrah B - owner of Brown Medical Care Hospital in Shibuya
> BMCH - where 12 of the 15 victims are reported to be under their care before they died.
Haru frowns, unsure if his notes are even making sense, but he presses on to see if this lead will get him somewhere.
Four hours later, Haru finally closes his notebook. His phone is almost dead and his right hand is stained with black ink. He goes to the bathroom to wash his hands, splashing water on his face while he's at it. That done, Haru grabs his keycard and wallet from the nightstand for lunch, muttering "holy fuck" as he closes the door behind him.
--
The hours to the wedding tick closer. And before Haru knows it, it’s already tomorrow. He's barely gotten a wink of sleep, tossing and turning on his bed as thought after thought ran through his head.
"Seriously, Katou-san." Kamei clicks his tongue while glaring sternly at his senior, keeping Haru seated on the bed while he and Saeki fuss over him. "We might be on a vacation, but it doesn’t mean you'd stay up late when you know you'd attend a wedding the following day!"
Haru sighs. "It wasn't as if I stayed up late on purpose."
"Watching porn is never not on purpose."
"I didn't watch porn last night!"
Saeki and Kamei look unconvinced, but acquiesce in the end. Instead, Kamei asks her if she has any concealer, which Saeki takes out a small bag from her purse. Kamei pulls the concealer stick and dabs it on the dark circles underneath Haru's eyes a bit too harshly. Haru winces and tries to get away from Kamei, but Kamei keeps his face steady by placing a hand under his chin.
"Katou-san, you're being more difficult to handle today," Kamei says.
"That's what happens when you're heartbroken," Saeki supplies. They take Haru's non-response as agreement. When Kamei's done applying makeup on Haru, they both take their seats on each of Haru's side.
"What?"
"I didn't know you actually liked Kambe-san," Saeki says, crossing her feet on his ankles. "We joke about it often, only to find out it's true all along."
"Isn't it painful?" Kamei adds. "Being invited to your crush's wedding?"
"It's an arranged marriage," Haru mutters. It's as if Kamei and Saeki have some sort of telepathic powers shared between them because they both simultaneously grip his arms.
"Katou-san," Saeki says. The inspector turns to her, and is taken aback at the fiery glint in her eyes.
To his other side, Kamei leans in close, the same glint sparkling his own eyes. Conspiratorially, he says, "let's crash the wedding."
"When the priest says 'speak now or forever hold your peace'--"
"You should stand up and scream that you object because you love Kambe-san!"
Amused at their suggestions, the two share a high five in front of Haru. Haru rolls his eyes and, as politely as he can, removes their hands on him. "This isn't like the movies and there's no objection happening," he says. As entertaining as it may be, Haru isn't selfish. "People bound in arranged marriages can still fall in love with one another. If they're truly in love with each other, why should we stop it even if…"
Even if Daisuke is marrying to a family with criminal dealings.
But Haru can't very well say those, as what he has are just hearsays. He has no concrete evidence that can link the Hamadas to financial fraud. Vlogs and think pieces blog entries about the efficacy of Booster-B (and how a bottle labeling itself as a "miracle drug", when in reality drinking it is a sure death wish) aren't enough to convict Brown.
Maybe if Haru has more time…
But even if he does, will he stop the wedding?
As if sharing another telepathic thought, Saeki and Kamei both move to envelope Haru in a hug at the same time.
Haru almost wants to say he drunkenly kissed Daisuke, but ultimately decides against it in the end for fear of just how much more dramatic his co-workers can go. He doesn't want to be pitied just because of feelings unrequited.
But perhaps he can let them hug him for a bit longer. That feels nice, weirdly enough.
--
Saying that he doesn’t know what to feel is a grave understatement because as he sits on the pews beside Kamei, Haru is feeling all kinds of emotions churning inside him.
He feels frustrated -- both at himself for not being able to tell Daisuke what he learned about the millionaire’s future spouse, and at the situation at hand.
He feels conflicted -- this is supposed to be a momentous day for lovers who have finally found each other, two puzzle pieces finally being put together to become one. But how can it be love when one of them is hiding something from the other?
But it doesn’t sound right if Daisuke doesn’t have at least an inkling on who the Hamadas are. He must have known who Hamada Yukito is, must have done a background check on him, his allies, and his business activities.
And yet.
And yet, he’s walking down the aisle, looking all dapper with his black suit made out of silk with white trimmings on the lapel. The grey of Daisuke's vest matches the silver tie he's wearing. The white button up only completes the lighter aura he's exuding.
And Haru feels his heart breaking all over again. All he can hear, amidst the clapping of hands and the sound of violins and piano playing, is the loud shattering of glass.
He hates it, hates how and why he is feeling hurt when he has no right to be.
Because Daisuke must have known, yet still went on with the wedding because he loves Yoichiro that much.
And really, Haru should listen to what he himself said about letting go and letting these silly feelings of unrequited love die.
When Daisuke finally reaches the altar and the congregation sits back down, Haru clenches his fists on his lap and takes a few lungful breaths of air and closes his eyes. He lets the ceremony drone out like white noise, concentrating on his breathing and how his heart pounds loudly against his chest as if in agony.
As if it wants to be let out and be free from its cage.
We'll get there, my heart, he says to himself.
Because of his closed eyes, Haru misses the way Daisuke's earring glows red and how he and Yoichiro share a troubled glance to each other. He also misses Yoichiro leaning close to whisper something in Daisuke's ear.
He only opens them when the preacher moves to the next part of the ceremony.
The part that Haru loves in weddings because of how it almost always makes him cry. But for this particular one, it only makes him want to scream in anguish. However, he surmises it's needed for him to witness the exchanging of vows so he can finally put a rest on his thoughts and on his feelings.
He can feel Saeki grabbing his clenched hand and rubbing circles at his knuckles as if to calm him, just as Daisuke and Yoichiro echo each other in their vows.
Haru offers her an assuring smile.
He'll be alright.
"If any of you has a reason why these two should not be married," the preacher says. Haru can feel Kamei nudge him with his elbow. "Speak now or forever hold your peace."
Silence feels the hall as if an angel of heaven has come to descend on them to bless this ceremony. But to Haru, it feels like it was the angel of Death.
The silence is immediately broken when Daisuke raises his hand. Saeki stops rubbing circles and Kamei stops jabbing Haru's rib with his pointy elbows.
Haru almost wants to laugh and ask if they really do have telepathic powers, if he isn’t also in a state of shock.
“Let me start off with the most important reason," Daisuke pauses. He sounds so calm and his expression is leveled, almost as if he is just interrupting a conversation and not his own goddamn wedding.
"I am in love with somebody else.”
Collective gasps can be heard at the confession. Kamei’s grip on Haru’s forearm hurts so damn much, but Haru doesn’t notice. He waits with bated breath instead.
He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He can’t bear any more breaking of his own damn heart.
And then Daisuke locks his eyes on Haru as he says, “I didn’t get the chance to tell you this because I was unsure myself whether my feelings would be reciprocated. But it is… or so I hope it still is.”
This time, Haru definitely feels Kamei’s fingers digging on the meat of his arm as he lets out an exaggerated gasp.
“Katou Haru.” Haru breathes in deep. Fucking shit. “There are things I have yet to tell you, but I hope you’ll understand soon. All I can say for now is that everything has a reason -- from the time I announced the wedding until this day. And until that reason reveals itself, all I ask for you is to hold on.
“Hold on for me a little longer, Haru, because I don’t want to let you go.”
To his left, Haru can hear Saeki sniffling quietly. Around him, he can feel their eyes on him. But there’s only one gaze that matters now.
“What is happening?” Someone exclaims from behind.
Haru doesn’t know either. But he finds himself on his feet, ready to rush towards the altar as if having a mind of their own. He wants to shake Daisuke by the shoulders and ask him what the fuck is he on to?
Is this some sort of game?
Or is this reality?
If this is real, what the fuck is he supposed to feel now?
The fast beating of his heart knows exactly what it is.
But before Haru can even move his feet, the doors to the hall swing open in a dramatic fashion. Suzue comes striding down the aisle along with Hoshino.
Hoshino?????
To make the unfolding events more confusing, Yoichiro steps down from the altar and walks towards Hoshino, who hands him a pair of handcuffs without a word. Daisuke does the same, brandishing another pair from the inside of his coat.
"Hamada Yukito and Farrah Brown," he says in a stern and commanding voice. "You are under arrest for medical malpractice causing the deaths of 15 victims, selling of an unregistered drug to the market, and corruption."
The moment Haru hears the familiar sound of handcuffs clicking locked, the whole congregation breaks down into chaos.
--
After the whirlwind that is the chaotic non-end of the ceremony, Haru finds himself itching for a smoke. The need for nicotine doesn't come often. But god does this day stress him out… just as much as it comforted and confused him.
He didn't get the chance to run away with Daisuke out of the event hall like one would see in the movies. Instead, he followed the millionaire out, as if on a trance, as Yoichiro pushed his own handcuffed father out of the hotel premises and into the police car.
Haru wanted to talk, to ask what had just happened.
And why Daisuke had to say all those when he was about to be wedded.
But before Haru could even come near him, Daisuke was nowhere to be found -- lost among the thick crowd of people either trying to witness the arrest of drug lords or trying to get away from the hotel.
He could have sworn he heard Daisuke's grandmother grumbling about taking a vacation at the Bahamas, not even bothering to stay behind.
Sighing, Haru returns to his room to change into his casual clothes and to get his wallet, planning to head to the convenience store for a pack of cigarette--
"Kambe?" Haru startles at the sight of Daisuke standing by the door of his room, his back leaning against it and his arms crossed on his chest. At the sound of the inspector's voice, Daisuke looks up at him.
"Can we talk?"
Haru nods and unlocks the door with his keycard, inviting the man inside.
It isn't lost on Haru that the last time he and Daisuke were in the same enclosed space, he kissed the millionaire. Now, they're back in the same room to talk. Haru doesn't know what to expect, doesn't want to think about anything right now. He simply wants clarity.
He watches Daisuke remove his jacket and lays it on the backrest of an upholstered chair beside the expansive window. The millionaire then moves to sit and motions for Haru to do the same as well, which Haru does on the bed.
"I know you have a lot of questions right now," Daisuke starts. "But let me begin by saying that Hamada-san and I intended for the wedding to end exactly the way it ended."
Haru frowns. "What do you mean by that?"
"When our families announced our engagement, Hamada-san immediately came to me and asked for my help in investigating his father," Daisuke replies. "We went on with the wedding planning as a front in order for Yukito not to be suspicious of the fact that we were investigating him and Brown behind their backs."
"So, the vlogs about Brown's miracle drug is true?"
Daisuke nods. "It's illegal from the get-go. She partnered with Yukito in order for her to sell her product in the local market and make it appear as if Booster-B is legitimate since it's being distributed by a well-known pharmaceutical brand."
"Which is why Hamada said his partnership with Brown will increase the company's income by a hundred percent." The inspector hums. A tiny part in his brain is berating him, telling him he should have gone with the wedding crashing route, but Haru quashes that voice immediately. There's no use in dwelling on what should be's now. "And the agreement with the Kambes and Hamadas?"
For that question, Daisuke gives no answer. "I'm unsure of my grandmother's agenda or if she has one at all. But I'm confident that it's for influence."
I am a pawn of my family, after all are the words left unsaid.
“So, you’re saying that the wedding is a farce from the start, and that it is an elaborate plot to arrest the CEO of PharmaHamada and the founder of Booster-B?” Daisuke nods in assent. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We did not want to involve more than who's necessary, considering that Yukito and Brown are keeping a close eye on me and my connection to the police force. The only one who knows about this is the Superintendent General, who in turn was the one who asked Hoshino’s help to hasten the process in issuing the warrants," Daisuke says. "Hamada-san told me his father had already done a background check on you and everyone from the Modern Crimes."
"I can handle myself, you know that."
"I do. It's just that…" a sigh. "It was an extremely thin line we were traversing. I did not want to involve you because I don't know what would happen if the line broke and you got harmed."
"It's part of the duty to get harmed."
"And if Brown killed you like she did with her patients?"
"You do realize she could do the same with you."
"Brown killing the supposed future son-in-law of her business partner, as well as the heir of one of the most influential families in Japan is a huge risk. It will only harm her reputation. You, however…” Daisuke fixes Haru with a stern glare. “I mean this with no offense, but you are insignificant to her. She can dispose of you whenever she wants and alter your coroner’s report like she did with the 12 victims.”
Haru nods, apropos of nothing. It’s true that outside of the police force, he is nothing. That’s just how life is -- Kambe Daisuke is a man who has immense wealth and power to show the world, while Haru only has his scars from bullet wounds and knife stabs hiding underneath his clothes. Kambe Daisuke can orchestrate a grand scheme of arresting criminals with the help of his influence.
Haru can do no such thing.
"I want to say one more thing," Daisuke says, Haru even notes how the millionaire's hands have clenched on his lap. "The wedding may be fake, but everything I said to you. They're all real."
But if there is one thing he can do, it’s apparently making Kambe Daisuke fall in love with Katou Haru.
"I wanted to tell you the truth -- about our plans and how you did not need to worry. In hindsight, not telling you despite my best intentions only worsened our situation." Daisuke pauses. Haru notes that the millionaire stops looking at him, and instead has his gaze directed on his fists. "I made you think of infidelity, of how you're a homewrecker when there is no home to wreck in the first place. I was...a step away from begging you not to forget about your feelings for me."
"Kambe Daisuke and begging are words I never expected to hear in one sentence."
"You're right." He chuckles. "But I will . For you."
This time, Haru can no longer hold himself back -- he buries his face, heating up from (from embarrassment or from the overwhelming feelings of love, he doesn't know). He tries to suppress the frustrated screams, to no avail.
The amused chuckles Haru hears from Daisuke isn't helping him calm down at all.
"Katou Haru and not knowing how to express emotions are two things I never expected to witness," Daisuke says cheekily.
"Shut up and give me a moment. I'm still trying to process the fact that my feelings are actually being reciprocated." Haru takes a deep breath in hopes of calming himself. When the beating of his heart has finally slowed, he removes his hands and finally looks at the millionaire headon.
His face may or may not still be red, but he has his dignity to uphold.
"So, you love me," Haru says in a deadpan tone.
"I do." Daisuke nods.
"And I like you."
"You actually said love before you kissed me, but let's go with that." The comment is met with Haru throwing a pillow, which Daisuke catches nonchalantly.
"What does this make us, then?"
"I have made my own deduction." The millionaire stands to place the pillow beside Haru, and remains at the spot in front of him. "Have you come to a conclusion, Inspector?"
And offers his hand.
Now here's the thing. Haru likes weddings. He likes the romanticism of it -- from the tears shed upon seeing their future spouse walk down the aisle, to the exchanging of rings as they vow to commit their lives to the other forever. He likes the kiss sealing the promise, and the bright and happy smile the newlyweds wear as they face their guests.
It's too soon to say he wants all those with Daisuke. But after all that has happened, Haru simply cannot imagine anyone standing beside Daisuke by the altar.
He wants it to be him. Someday. 10 years from now. Who knows?
But for now, he will start with day one.
It's still too soon for a ring to have . For now, he has Daisuke's hand to hold.
And hold his hand Haru does.
"I do, Kambe Daisuke."