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Kei was reviewing maps late at night, restless. Frowning, he marks down a note on the margins of his book, his eyes flicking to the door every couple of minutes. Tadashi was out on a mission—a relatively small, routine one, but a mission nonetheless—and Kei insisted on staying up until he was home safe.
It was neither the first nor the last time he had stayed up late through the night, as he could never quite sleep as well without Tadashi at his side. There was a risk to their line of work, of course. There always had been, always would be, and yet Kei hated it when Tadashi wasn’t home. He hated how fear and worry swelled inside him, hated how tense everyone was, hated how he’d come home exhausted and immediately collapse into bed.
In their youth, the two loved the thrill of the risk, the risk of death, and the loss of their high-flying freedom. Two partners in love and crime, the most notorious names whispered across Japan, an unstoppable force at each others’ sides forevermore. That was their promise to each other.
Now, Kei had long since tired of the thrill of the chase. Instead, he toiled quietly from the background, making sure everything ran smoothly, for the team and Tadashi. He liked it, knowing that he could ensure that everything went okay, with his own two hands.
Tadashi understood—always did—and insisted that their promises would not be broken if Kei chose to stay on the sidelines. “After all, Kei,” he had said with a cheeky grin, “I need you to make sure that I’m coming back home to you every night, hm?”
Kei mulled this over as he looked over his notes, sleep tugging at his eyes as he scribbles down strategies and notes. His mind wandered, drowsy, but he forced himself to stay awake.
Nearly an hour later, he heard the door unlock, and someone slipped in quietly, shutting the door behind him. He jerked his head up at the sound. There, Tadashi stood, looking at him with a kind of awkward grimace. His normally pristine suit was heavily rumpled. “You’re up late,” he said, although Kei is always awake when he gets home, no matter how late.
Kei exhaled, feeling tension run out of his shoulders. “You’re back,” he said, smiling. “How’d it go?”
Tadashi grimaced, again. “Fine,” he said. “Got what we wanted. Kinda. And…”
He turned to his side, displaying his left arm. A deep gash was torn from his shoulder to his elbow, the fabric frayed at the edges. Blood was soaking through the sleeve of his suit, staining it a dark red and threatening dangerously to drip to the floor.
Kei shot to his feet. “Tadashi,” he gasped, rushing forward. “What happened? Why didn’t they send you to the hospital wing? Who did this?”
Tadashi let out a weak laugh, allowing Kei to take off his coat with gentle hands. “They didn’t want to cause a stir. Imagine waking up half the to see their co-leader—fuck!” he swore loudly. “No, go on, I’m alright.”
“Who did this?” Kei hissed, unbuttoning Tadashi’s bloodstained shirt.
“Watanabe-san did not wish to come quietly,” Tadashi said dryly. “We caught up to him in the kitchen and forced him to pay up, but once he did, he snatched up a knife and—” he mimed tearing through the air with a clenched fist.
Kei tugged off the shirt revealing an only slightly stained undershirt. He forced his hands to stay steady. “Sit down,” he ordered, and Tadashi obeyed, his mouth pulled tight. “And what happened to him?”
“Stand down, Kei. I know you’d go traipsing into battle as soon as you found out I was injured,” Tadashi joked, sounding somewhat bitter. “Once he stabbed me, he pulled out the knife and bolted out the kitchen window.”
“Who let him get away?” Kei demanded. “Kogane? Lev? Shirabu? I’ll tear their throats out, I swear I will—”
“Quiet, Kei. It wasn’t their fault, no one expected them to get violent, and they were more concerned with how I was faring rather than him escaping. I was just a little careless, it seems.”
“You’re never careless.” It’s true. Even in their youth, Tadashi was always the one double-checking and thinking twice. To imagine him being careless, on such a mission, was impossible.
“Maybe not, then.” Tadashi let Kei extend his arm as he cleaned the wound, biting back a hiss of pain. “A little slow. My reflexes aren’t as sharp as they used to be.”
“And what of Watanabe?”
“He won’t get far. He’s in his sixties, unarmed except for the knife, and everyone knows how he got involved in the Yakuza. No one will be willing to help him out. I’m sure we’ll track him down shortly.”
Kei pursed his lips as he cleaned. “Do you need me on the field?
“Well, I’ll be out of commission for a time, it seems,” Tadashi sighed, flexing his free arm with a wince. “But I don’t think you’ll need to. Someone will step up to apprehend him, maybe Shouyou or Tobio.”
“Let me rephrase.” Kei looked up into Tadashi’s eyes, his gaze steady. “I want to find him. I want to hunt him down, and I want to slit his throat for ever laying a finger on you.”
Tadashi huffed out a laugh. “I thought your days of hands-on work were behind you.”
“For you? Never.”
Tadashi pressed a quick kiss to Kei’s cheek. “Then I’ll talk to Kiyoko-san and Daichi-san.”
“Thank you.” Kei began disinfecting a needle and thread and slowly began stitching the gash. Tadashi closed his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line. They were silent for a few minutes, with Kei carefully closing the wound with practiced fingers.
“So,” Kei said, breaking the silence. “Why did those imbeciles decide to send you here rather than the medical wing?”
“This didn’t want to cause a panic. You and I are the trusted leaders, and seeing either of us badly wounded is terrible for morale, or so I’m told,” Tadashi said, through gritted teeth. “Suga-san thought it best.”
“And why didn’t Suga-san send you to be taken care of by just one of the doctors? Or at least someone to walk you up here. Surely—”
“Hush, Kei. I requested that you tend to me, against the advice of Yachi and Suga-san. And I knew you’d be at the throat of anyone who accompanied me once you saw I was injured.”
Kei clicked his tongue but relented. “Maybe I am a little protective,” he admitted, tying off the end of the string carefully.
“I would be the same for you.” Tadashi flexed his arm. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
“Not done yet,” Kei reminded him. Quickly, he wrapped the arm, first with gauze and then with a thick bandage. “Any more injuries I should be made aware of? Perhaps you were also hit on the back of the head with a frying pan?”
“You’re quite a comedian. And no, I’m perfectly fine, just tired. Let’s go to bed, alright?”
“Are you sure? Because—”
“To bed, Dr. Tsukishima. It’s been a long day.”
* * *
The next afternoon, after he had ordered Tadashi to stay in bed, for God’s sake, Kei made his way down to Kageyama’s quarters, which was in the underground wing of their building. He knocked on the office door and walked in without waiting for a response, moving in front of Kageyama’s desk.
Kageyama didn’t even spare him a glance. “You’re an idiot.”
Kei pinned Kageyama with a glare. “Say that again.”
“You’ve been in mock retirement for nearly five years. And now you want to go charging out into battle just because Yamaguchi got stabbed?” Kageyama flipped through a file, his eyes barely skimming the words.
“I’m doing this because my husband was stabbed by someone who is currently on the run and awaiting punishment.”
“Awaiting your ruthless revenge, actually,” Kagayama muttered.
“I’m not looking for your permission, King. I’m doing it, regardless of whatever Kiyoko-san or Daichi-san says.”
“There won’t be a ‘regardless’. They approved it.” Kageyama spun his chair around, beginning to sort through his filing cabinets behind him. “So there’s been a small development since last night. Watanabe escaped out the window and was in possession of a knife, but likely collected more weapons since then.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
Now, Kageyama looked up at him, his eyes blazing with a glare. “Unfortunately,” he continued. “It seems that his five-year-old granddaughter has since gone missing. Her parents were murdered, likely with a butcher knife, and the autopsy shows that it was at the hand of someone knowledgeable of the human body.”
Kei pinched the bridge of his nose. “And how was Watanabe’s relationship with them?”
“Bad. But he seemed so like his granddaughter, so it’s likely that he killed her parents and then kidnapped her before escaping. We think he’s heading to Yokohama and escaping undercover by boat.”
“So once he gets on the water, it’ll be impossible to stop him.”
“Not impossible. Just rather difficult.”
Kei exhaled. “So who’s my team?”
“Me.” Kageyama returned to staring at his paperwork.
“Not actually?”
“No. It’s me, Shoyou, and Yachi.”
“You’re not serious.”
“He’s serious,” a new voice chimed in. Hinata and Yachi had popped into the room unannounced, and the two sidled up beside Kei, who nearly groaned aloud.
“Who planned this?” he demanded, turning back to Kageyama.
“No one. We volunteered.” Kageyama had continued his mindless work of flipping through the paperwork.
“Why? We haven’t done a single project together since the 50s.”
It was Hinata’s turn to glare at him. “No, we haven’t. Not since you quit.”
“I didn’t quit, you single-celled piece of shit. Thanks to me, you’re not dying every time you make a reckless mistake,” Kei spat at him.
Yachi whacked him on the back of his head sharply. “Quiet, both of you,” she ordered. “Tsukishima—I mean, Kei—we’re doing this because of Tadashi, alright?”
“That’s right.” Kageyama stood, his face determined. “Tadashi has saved all our lives multiple times, and we’re not just fucking around. This asshole—” he tossed the file at Kei. “—had the balls to try and kill him, and we’re going to make sure that he gets what he deserves.”
“And it’s not just about Tadashi,” Shoyou added. “I would do this for anyone in this room, alright? Even you, Tsukishima.”
Yachi and Kageyama nodded in agreement. The three looked at Kei expectantly.
After a moment, Kei let out a sigh. “I would, too,” he admitted.
Yachi beamed at him, while Hinata let out a hoot of delight and pounded him on the back. “You do love us, Tsukki!”
“Shut up,” Kei groaned, shoving Hinata off of him while Kageyama refused to make eye contact.
“No thanks,” Yachi said cooly. “So what’s the plan, boss?”
Kei brushed off the front of his clothes before opening up the file. “Tadashi hasn’t come home with an injury in years, and this fucker thinks he can get away with it.” He looked up, making eye contact with everyone in the room. “But he won’t. And we’re going to make sure that no one even dares to try again.”
He flipped through the file, reading through it quickly. “He’s in his late sixties, maybe 170cm tall. He’s ex-military but was dishonorably discharged for unknown reasons, and he borrowed money because his business flopped and his workers demanded their pay. Has little to no allies or money, but probably managed to spend some amount to bribe or buy an illegal ticket.”
Yachi pulled out a notebook and began writing down notes. “Status?”
“Minor threat, but a special case, because of the girl.” He leveled a glare at his companions. “Not a scratch on her, alright?”
“What’s going to happen with her?” Hinata asked.
Kei rubbed his forehead. “I’ve got no idea. Parents murdered, grandfather on the run, but we don’t know much about her extended family.”
“Out of the picture,” Kageyama answered. “Their relationship was strained, or cut off entirely. I don’t believe either side approved of the parents’ marriage.”
“Talk about family issues,” Hinata sighed.
“Whatever happens to the kid, I’ll make sure she’s safe and happy.” Kei handed the file back to Kageyama, then turned to face his team with his expression set with determination. “No matter what.”
* * *
They left at precisely 11 pm after the sun had set, but with ample time before midnight. Supposedly, it was the time that most boats departed from the docks, so Kei took his time driving the car from the base.
The car ride there is tense, as it always is. From the passenger’s seat, Yachi flipped through her notes carefully, rereading them over and over. She would dispose of them before they arrived. Behind her, Hinata sharpened his knives, not taking his eyes from his work. Kageyama stared out the window, his face impassive, but his hands were clenched into fists in his lap.
Their clothing was rather unsuited for a rustic boardwalk. They were all dressed in well-tailored suits and formal shoewear, complete with cufflinks. It never mattered what they wore, as it was dark outside and the docks likely deserted, but this team, in particular, was known for finishing dirty work so not even a speck of blood could be found. Kei twists his ring around his finger.
It didn’t take long for them to reach the docks, so they were right on schedule as they managed to hide the car in an abandoned alleyway before walking toward their target. After some prying, Kageyama had managed to procure the location of Watanabe’s planned escape, and all they had to do was wait.
Yachi flicked a lighter and held the flame toward her carefully written notes. “Time?”
“Twenty minutes and counting.” Hinata’s gaze flicked to Kei. “Alright there? It’s been a while since you’ve been out like this.”
Kei scowled at him. “More than alright,” he says, then turns his attention back to the distance. “Sure this is the right dock?”
“Positive,” Kageyama answered.
“And it wasn’t just a leak?”
Kageyama gave him a look. “That happened once, and it all turned out fine in the end.”
“We literally had to chase him around in the Corvette for an hour.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“Shut up,” Hinata snapped. “That’s him coming now, I think.”
Kei clamped his mouth shut and squinted off into the distance. Indeed, there was a flash of headlights coasting across the road. “Positions. If he has a brain at all, he’ll suspect that we’re waiting for him.”
Quickly, they scattered, slipping out of sight as a car drew nearer. Kei watched with bated breath as it screeched to a halt mere meters from him, the engine switched off. After a moment the door opened.
Watanabe stepped out of the car, his eyes darting over the scene like a twitching rabbit. In his haste, he didn’t seem to notice the four waiting for him in the shadows, and Kei motioned for them to stay where they were. Watanabe exhaled slowly, then shut the door, opening the backseat.
A tiny girl jumped out of the seat. He offered her a hand, but she eyed him warily, making a face. He grimaced and shut the door behind her.
As soon as he made a step away from the car, Kei jumped out. Quick as a flash, he grasped the collar of Watanabe’s shirt, pressing his knife to his throat. Behind him, Yachi pinned his arms to his back, the tip of her dagger piercing the flesh behind his ear. Next to him, Hinata held a gun to his temple.
Kei cast a glance to his side. Kageyama crouched beside the girl, holding her close with a hand over her eyes. He gave Kei a firm nod, and Kei turned his attention back to Watanabe. “Any last words?”
Watanabe struggled for a moment, but soon gave up and stared into Kei’s eyes. “I wasn’t trying to run,” he rasped. “I only meant to protect her, keep her safe.”
“By murdering her parents and shipping her off by herself?” Hinata snarled. His finger hovered dangerously over the trigger, threatening to pull at any moment.
Watanabe shook his head as best he could. “I have a friend in America. She’d be better taken care of by her than my good-for-nothing daughter and her husband.”
Yachi twisted the handle of her dagger, causing him to let out a yelp of pain. “Are you speaking of your ex-lover, Hashimoto Akari, perhaps?”
“Yes,” he gasped out. “She’s—”
“Dead,” Yachi finished, “Died years ago, which you might know if you had kept in touch with her at all in the past decade.”
He swallowed. “Please,” he choked out. “Please, take care of her.”
“I’ll take better care of her than you ever could,” Kei spat. “But as for you, you are the dirt below my feet, and I’d like to hear you scream for mercy.”
“What’s gonna happen to Grandpa?”
Kei’s gaze snapped back to the girl. Kageyama was still covering her eyes, but he was talking to her quietly, not taking his eyes off of Watanabe. His words seemed to be doing little to soothe her.
Watching her panicked and struggling, he found his grip on Watanabe’s shirt loosening slightly. After a moment, he released his hold but kept his knife to the man’s throat. Watanabe’s heaving chest slowed.
“Kei?” Yachi asked quietly. She, too, kept her blade to his neck, but her eyes were on Kei, wide with concern.
Tsukishima didn’t respond to her. “You don’t deserve death,” he hissed at Watanabe, digging his blade in a little deeper, just to watch him squirm. “I want to watch you rot and die in prison.”
Hinata stared at him. “Tsukishima?”
Tsukishima kept his eyes on Watanabe. “We’ll leave him to the police,” he muttered to Hinata. “He’ll likely be convicted, as there can’t be many other suspects for the parents’ murder.”
“And if he isn’t?”
“Then I’ll find him and kill him as soon as he’s released,” Kei answered. “But I want him to think over exactly what he’s done until he dies.”
Yachi nodded, keeping a firm grip on Watanabe’s arms. Hinata reluctantly dropped his arm from where he held the gun, and Kei pulled the knife from his throat.
Watanabe laughed. “You’ve gotten soft, Tsukishima Kei,” he taunted. “Years off the field has made you a coward—”
Quick as a whip, Kei slashed the knife across his face, leaving a bloody gash in its wake. “That’s for Tadashi,” he spat. “But if you call me a coward, or even go near him or the girl ever again, I will take your heart and serve it on a silver platter.”
* * *
Once Tsukishima made his decision, it was quick work from there. Kageyama and Hinata hauled Watanabe into their car, with promises that they were just going to leave him at the station, don’t worry, we’re not idiots. Tsukishima watched as Kageyama shut the door with a slam and made his way to the driver's seat.
The girl stands alone now, just staring at the car.”
“What’ll happen to her?” he asked Yachi quietly.
She turned to look at the girl, then back to Kei. “I don’t know. Put up for adoption, likely, but I doubt she’ll be taken in quickly due to her background.”
He exhaled slowly, then started walking to the girl, who was still staring down curiously at the car as Kageyama drove off with Watanabe and Hinata in the backseat. He crouched in front of her, offering her a smile. “Hey,” he said softly. “What’s your name?”
She looked at him with wide eyes. “Kaori,” she answered.
“Hi, Kaori. I’m Kei.” He holds out a hand.
She took it without a sliver of hesitation. “Where are we going?”
“We’ll be heading home, and then you can meet my husband, Tadashi. Are you tired? It’s been a pretty exciting night, huh?”
She giggled but shook her head. “‘M hungry.”
“Hungry? What do you want to eat, then?”
She hummed, her brow furrowing with concentration. “Cake,” she answered, after a few thoughtful moments. “Shortcake.”
He nearly burst out laughing, but simply smiled at her. “You know, strawberry shortcake is my favorite.”
* * *
An hour later, Tadashi wandered into the kitchen intending to brew another cup of coffee, only to find a five-year-old girl and his husband sitting on the counter. As he entered, their gazes snapped toward the door, looking as if children caught with their hands in a cookie jar.
Tadashi sighed. “Kei,” he said calmly. “Who’s this?”
Kei slipped his slice of cake behind his back. “This is Kaori,” he answered. “Kaori, this is Tadashi, my husband.”
She grinned at him, whipped cream all over her face. Tadashi pursed his lips in a vain attempt to hide a smile. “Don’t tell me you only got two slices of cake?” he asked lightly.
Kei grinned at him, a bit of cream in the corner of his mouth. “There’s more in the fridge if you’d like a slice.”
For a moment, the two looked almost identical, with the same half-guilty smiles. Tadashi found his resolve softening by the moment, and he felt the corners of his mouth turn up. “Hi, Kaori,” he said, taking a seat next to her on the counter. “I have a feeling you’ll like it here very much.”
And all three of them believed it.