Work Text:
It was 5 PM on a Wednesday, yet the bar was packed with people in suits, having just gotten off work. Nanami looked around, watching as tired eyes and slumped bodies took in drinks after drinks. It was a sad crowd, and he was about to become one with it.
Usually, he went straight home to get his fill, but he didn’t feel like drinking alone in his empty apartment yet again, wanting the low murmur of voices to fill his ears instead of the deafening silence of his apartment.
Taking an empty seat at the bar, Nanami ordered a glass of whisky on the rocks, going for the first brand he could see on the shelf. Nanami thanked the bartender who handed him his drink and swirled the contents of the glass around, watching as the amber liquid left trails of tears on the sides of the glass. He took a sip, welcoming the all-too familiar burn.
The vacant seat next to him was soon filled with another slumped body dressed in a suit, a man with messy black hair and large eyes accompanied by dark circles. The man ordered a beer and some bar snacks as he ran his hand through his messy strands, trying to tame them, but to no avail.
Nanami returned his attention to the glass in front of him, the condensation leaving a thin layer of dew on his fingers. In the corner of his eye, he saw a bowl of chips being pushed his way. Looking up, the man next to him gave him a nod, tapping the bowl with his finger.
“Take some if you want.”
Not in the mood for stale bar-chips or conversation, Nanami politely declined, averting his eyes.
The sound of crunching joined the choir of clinking glasses and drained voices. After a while, the man next to him spoke up.
“Higuruma. Higuruma Hiromi.”
Nanami nodded, showing that he had heard. Not taking the hint, or perhaps choosing not to, Higuruma asked for Nanami’s name as he ate some more chips. Thinking that it could do no harm to socialize with a stranger for a couple of minutes, Nanami gave him his name.
“Nice to meet you, Nanami. What are you doing here on a Wednesday?”
“Change of scenery. Got tired of my apartment.”
Higuruma grunted in what seemed to be a laugh, but his expression had remained the same.
“Yeah, me too,” Higuruma murmured, taking a large swig of his beer.
Higuruma had a familiar air surrounding him, but Nanami couldn’t put his finger on why. Talking about his personal business wasn’t something he did, especially not to strangers in a bar, but something about this man diffused that line for him.
After a moment of silence, Nanami surprised himself by talking.
“I’m tired,” he said, bringing the glass of whiskey to his lips and inhaling to let the aroma fully coat his mouth. Higuruma painted figures on the bar counter with his index finger, not lifting his gaze.
“Elaborate.”
A voice inside Nanami’s head screamed at him to keep quiet, but those two first words had been like cracks in a dam, the words pouring from his mouth.
“I suppose the things I do are important, but this life I’m living can barely be considered worthwhile. I go to work, exhaust myself physically and mentally, only to come home and drink myself into oblivion.”
Higuruma’s hand returned to the bowl, half the chips gone by now.
“What’s keeping you there, then?”
For a short second, an image of a smiling boy with pink hair entered Nanami’s mind. His mouth twitched, the closest he had gotten to a smile the entire week.
“The people in my care, I suppose.”
Higuruma lifted his beer glass, cheering into thin air.
“Here, here.”
Nanami glanced at Higuruma, inspecting him closer. On the left side of his suit was a badge, those worn by attorneys. Makes sense, he thought. Two tired men worn down to the bone by powers out of their control. It almost made him laugh.
“I see that you work within the justice department,” Nanami said, tilting his glass toward the pin on Higuruma’s suit.
Higuruma looked up for a second, then he went back to painting figures.
“Most of my clients have been deemed guilty, despite lacking evidence. Does that sound like justice to you?”
Nanami took another sip before answering.
“I think you fighting for them was worth more than you know.”
“What worth does that have if they can't be fucking saved?” Higuruma said, his calm voice devoid of emotion.
Finishing the rest of his beer in one go, Higuruma put the glass down and got up from his seat. He wiped his hands on his pants and extended one toward Nanami.
“It was nice meeting you.”
“You too,” Nanami replied, giving a curt nod as they shook hands.
Now that they were standing face to face, Nanami looked straight into Higuruma’s eyes, breath halting for a second. He had seen those tired eyes before, a distant memory clawing its way out from deep within.
As Higuruma exited the bar and waved over his shoulder, the memory cleared up, one Nanami hadn’t allowed himself to think of in years. Of course, he thought, Geto had looked like that, too.