Archive of Our Own ^beta

SHIBUYA, 11:35

“Good morning, Agent Snake Eyes. Our mission today takes us to Shibuya, in the heart of the annual summer festival. Our target is Fushiguro Toji, a bounty hunter gaining notoriety throughout Tokyo. He does not appear to be affiliated with any party or larger organization, which is strange in and of itself. He simply takes up contracts with whoever pays the highest price. He’s become quite the wild card in the tangled web of politics and conglomerates, and one that could spell trouble if left unchecked. Our client has reason to believe that they will be Toji’s next target, and they want to stay one step ahead. This should be a fairly straightforward mission for you. Good luck, Snake Eyes.”

The assassin gives an affirmative hum as the words of his handler, Okkotsu Yuuta, buzz through his in-ear receiver. Giving the black face mask he sports a final tug, Agent Snake Eyes takes a step forward as Yuuta speaks again.

“Mission: Active”

The agent levels his gaze at the swarms of people choking up the streets. While other agents are more direct, running in guns a-blazing and aiming for the throat, Snake Eyes likes to be more methodical in his approach. Get a feel for the mission site. Observe the surroundings. Find clues. Collect intel. Snake Eyes spots an open bench with a discarded newspaper off to the side: a perfect opportunity to blend into the crowd. He slips quietly into the seat, picking up the paper and scanning the headlines, eyebrows furrowing as he catches a conversation just a few paces away.

“Dude, I’m SO excited for Gojo Satoru to perform today! I can’t believe they actually got to book him.”

“When will he come on?”

“In about…half an hour. So we have some time before then to grab some food. Come on, I’m starving!”

As if on cue, Yuuta’s voice comes in. “Gojo Satoru is a famous J-pop singer-songwriter who has recently come back from his world tour,” he says. “After much persuasion, the festival coordinators managed to book him as an attraction for today’s live entertainment. Toji is a well-known fan of Gojo Satoru, and he’s expected to make an appearance at today’s festivities. Perhaps you can use those good looks of yours to get him alone after the show?”

Unfazed by the compliment Yuuta slid into his intel, Snake Eyes stands up and discards the newspaper. The agent holds back a grimace as the sun beams down on him, and he’s eternally grateful for his loose-fitting tee and jeans he left the facility in as opposed to the normal suit and gloves attire. It’s a hot day in the crowded streets of Shibuya, but it takes more than hot weather to stop Agent Snake Eyes from carrying out his duty. With nothing more than a steely gaze in his lavender eyes, the assassin weaves through the streets, past food tents and vendors and small shops yelling out to him to take a look at their products, heading instead towards the large outdoor stage at the end of the road.

Once he’s at an arm’s length from the stage, Snake Eyes takes refuge in a back alley and peeks out, surveying the area around him. Way too many people in the front of the stage. Entering through the back is his best option. Just as silently as he came, Snake Eyes slips back into the crowd, barely bumping shoulders with the masses of people awaiting the performance. The scent of sunshine and sweat and fried food fill his nostrils, but he keeps going nonetheless. Eventually the agent breaks through the crowd, circling around the circumference of the stage. He makes his way to the back of the stage, and out of the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of light blue. Event security.

The assassin’s mind works quickly. That would be his best way in. The metal barriers separating the general public from the backstage area, however, prevent any easy entry.

His eyes flicker around for some sort of cover, some sort of opening, and that’s when he spots it: a lone event worker taking a smoke break behind a port-a-potty. He runs through the scenarios in his mind. As long as he’s quick, there should be no witnesses.

Confident strides take Snake Eyes to the back of the port-a-potty. The worker blows a puff of smoke, unaware of the man approaching him. Like a shadow through the night, the trained assassin pounces. Strong arms wrap around the worker’s neck, and nothing but choked whimpers escape his mouth. The cigarette falls through his fingers onto the pavement, forgotten, as Snake Eyes’s grip on the worker’s neck tightens. 5…4…3…2…1… the assassin thinks to himself as he lowers the body to the ground. Unconscious, but not dead– a thin line that many lesser agents can’t help but cross. Snake Eyes isn’t surprised–- he should know as much. He’d practiced tirelessly during his training to ensure this outcome.

Snake Eyes doesn’t reminisce much about his youth. There are no fond memories to recall. He has no memory of a mother or father, only that they did not want him. So says the man that collected him from his previous home.

“Don’t worry,” the man had said, expression hidden behind green-tinted spectacles, leading the young Snake Eyes away, “you’ll be much better off with us.”

Snake Eyes undresses himself in the blink of an eye and strips down the event worker to his underwear. In a flash, the agent dons the light blue long-sleeve shirt, shorts, and baseball cap of the event staff. Working quickly, he collects the body in his arms and stuffs it into the port-a-potty, locking it from the inside to prevent any external investigation. Armed with his new disguise, Snake Eyes crushes the glowing cigarette underneath his shoes, extinguishing it, and sets his gaze towards the stage.

“Good work, Agent,” Yuuta says over the receiver. “You can use this opportunity to sneak into the backstage area, where Gojo Satoru is sure to be. I advise you to take his disguise before the show as opposed to after. Toji is always quick to hound him after performances, and therefore your window of opportunity will shrink. ”

Snake Eyes knows this, and Yuuta knows that he knows this. But Yuuta has this habit of wanting to fill the silences that happen to lull during missions. Snake Eyes doesn’t mind all that much– it takes more than that to break his concentration. If anything, he allows his handler to provide him with comments every now and then. It makes him feel less alone, reminding him that he and Yuuta are tackling each mission together.

Will I really have to perform, then? Snake Eyes shivers internally at the thought. He nods to the guard at the backstage entrance and slips through.

“Oh, come now, Snake Eyes,” Yuuta cooes, as if he can read his mind, “I’m sure you have the voice of an angel.”

The agent suppresses an eye roll. And my seals?

The seals that adorn Snake Eyes’s mouth are what gave him his name. He never knew his true name, or if he ever had one. The seals are his symbol, his trademark, what makes him him. But something so unique is just that– a hurdle for every disguise he assumes. Gojo Satoru would never wear a mask during a live performance, and not wearing a mask at all would blow his cover. Snake Eyes scans the backstage area, noting the hubbub of staff, makeup artists, coordinators, and…

His gaze falls on a cluster of people dressed in all black, huddled together, all with black face masks on.

Backup dancers.

“Let’s meet back here in 5,” one of them says, stretching her arms up above her head. “We’ll have one-last run through before we go on. Get some water.”

The crew makes an affirmative noise before breaking off to take a breather. Snake Eyes crouches behind a large speaker, carefully following their every move. He glances to his right. One worker a few meters away from him. He looks to the left. Two event coordinators communicating through walkie talkies. The only blind spot is the one he currently occupies. Thinking fast, Snake Eyes pulls out a coin and tosses it just behind the last dancer, hoping they can hear it above the chaos backstage.

Luckily, it causes them to turn. “Huh?” He spots the coin on the ground and bends down to pick it up. Perfect. Snake Eyes reaches up for the water bottle that lies on top of the speaker and knocks it to the ground, catching the attention of the dancer again.

“Oh no,” he mumbles, walking forward to retrieve it. “It better not be dented. Megumi’s gonna flip.” The dancer bends down to grab it, and as soon as his guard is down, Snake Eyes leaps out of the shadows, instantly incapacitating them like he did to the worker. He quickly changes into the dancer’s outfit– a baggy black sweatshirt, a black cap, and some black shorts. He deposits the unconscious body in a storage trunk nearby, earning a “Good work, Agent. Although I’m not quite sure what you’re planning here” from Yuuta. Snake Eyes bites his lip under his mask, reaching up to adjust his cap so that each lock of his silvery hair is hidden underneath the hat.

It’s not long before the rest of the dance crew returns. “You didn’t need water?” one of them, presumably the leader, asks, leaning forward. Her copper shoulder-length hair sways with her movements, and she puts her hands on her hips. The assassin shakes his head, and while she looks skeptical, she doesn’t press the matter. “Alright. From the top. We can just mark through the moves. Let’s get into position!”

If there’s one thing Snake Eyes is a pro at, it’s adaptability. His assassin training involved everything under the sun– learning how to play the guitar, mastering wine tasting, professional modeling, racing sports cars, and, thankfully for him at this moment in time, dance. It only takes a minute for Snake Eyes to have the choreography down pat, and as he’s committing the moves to memory, Yuuta’s voice reappears. “I didn’t know you could dance like that, Agent,” he says, and Snake Eyes can almost hear the smirk that’s surely on his face. “I can watch you all day.”

Snake Eyes secretly wonders if all handlers talk with their assassins like this.

“We’re on in five!” the dance crew leader shouts. “Let’s start heading to the stage.”

The agent follows the group's lead, settling comfortably at the back of the crowd. He hears the buzz of the crowd over the thump thump thump of music. Other agents would get stage fright for sure– not everybody can handle the immense pressure of disguising themselves as a backup dancer for one of the most famous J-Pop idols in the world. But Snake Eyes is, decidedly, not like other agents. As the music dies down and the leader motions for them to take their places on stage, Yuuta’s voice crackles into his ear once again.

“Break a leg, Snake Eyes.”

He almost smiles.

The agent gets into position in the back row, facing away from the audience. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a tall man with white hair waiting to take the stage: Gojo Satoru. The crowd chants his name over and over, in a chorus of “Gojo! Gojo! Gojo!” The idol steps onto the stage with long, confident strides, and the crowd erupts in cheers. The music starts, and as if he’d practiced for this moment his whole life, Snake Eyes breaks out into dance.

It’s almost eerie how seamlessly the assassin is able to assume any identity he’s forced to become. In his training, Snake Eyes learned how to be a chameleon– prepared to blend in at any moment, to disguise himself at the drop of a hat. But above all, no matter what identity he takes on, whether it be doctor or tailor or rocket scientist, Snake Eyes operates with the mind of a killer. As he steps in time to the music, isolating each movement with ease and precision, his eyes flicker over the crowd. He finds the target almost instantly, leaning against the barricade, muscular arms crossed over his chest. Toji Fushiguro. The agent slides into a new position on the stage as the song changes, but his keen senses never let the target truly out of his sight.

Just need to get through this performance, Snake Eyes thinks as Gojo’s vocals pierce the air, then the real show will begin.

One song passes, then two, then five. Snake Eyes strikes his final pose, and a split second later, Gojo’s melodic voice ceases. The crowd breaks out into thunderous applause, and over the boisterous cheers, the crew leader motions for them to exit the stage. The other dancers flock towards their water bottles, and the leader gathers them round to debrief. Before she opens her mouth, though, Snake Eyes breaks away, using the commotion of the backstage crew to slip away unnoticed. He lowers the brim of his cap to cover up his eyes, heading towards Gojo Satoru’s private backstage area.

He’s hyper-aware of the woman posted outside the entrance. Her dark purple hair is pulled back in a half-updo, and the scar adorning her face gives her a mean edge to her demeanor. This must be Gojo’s manager. I need a distraction, the agent thinks to himself, to get her away from the door. Lilac eyes dart around the immediate area, searching for something, anything, to distract her.

His gaze eventually falls on a small table a few feet away from Gojo’s manager. From what he can see from his hiding spot, it holds a personalized “Gojo Satoru” water bottle, a sweater that Yuuta confirms belongs to the pop star, some granola bars, and a phone. Thinking fast, Snake Eyes reaches into his pocket for something not intended for this mission– the blueberry muffin he forgot to eat on the way to the mission site. With the strength and form of a baseball pitcher, the assassin winds up and hurls the muffin at the table, knocking it over and spilling all of Gojo’s personal belongings onto the floor.

“Shit!” the manager hisses, abandoning her post.

Yuuta’s breathy chuckles fill the assassin’s ear. “You know, Agent,” he muses, “I commend you for being resourceful, but I gave you that muffin to eat.”

Snake Eyes allows himself a small smirk as he enters Gojo Satoru’s private backstage area without restriction. He quickly scans the small area: a makeup station, a lounge area, and a bathroom. It’s completely empty, but Snake Eyes knows that this is only temporary.

Something on the lounge table catches his eye: a plate of mochi. With a raised eyebrow, Snake Eyes examines it, taking one of the sweets in his hand and holding it up.

“Gojo Satoru has a sweet tooth and is quite the dessert aficionado,” Yuuta informs him. “His favorite sweet is the zunda and cream flavored mochi from Kikifuku Mochi. He’s sure to want a little pick-me-up after his performance. Perhaps you can take advantage of that?”

At this, he immediately knows what to do. The assassin pulls out a container of emetic rat poison from his stash of concealed weapons and applies it onto the mochi. Once finished, he slips into the bathroom and closes the door, pressing himself up against the back wall to avoid being seen.

Moments later, Gojo Satoru’s cheery voice floods the backstage area. Snake Eyes scrunches his eyebrows: only one pair of footsteps echoes throughout the space. Gojo is alone.

“What a drag! This is what I get for wanting to relax after my tour. Oh well. At least the fans seemed to enjoy it!” The idol sits down on the lounge sofa and pops a poisoned mochi into his mouth. “Wonder where Utahime is. I wanted to check out the shops after my performance!”

He chews a little more, and in a very un-Gojo Satoru-like fashion, he falls quiet.

“U…Uh…Oh…” Gojo’s wobbly voice leaks out, his footsteps closing in on the bathroom. The idol flings the door open and throws himself onto the toilet. Snake Eyes locks the door in a flash, and while Gojo’s back is turned, he strikes.

Snake Eyes’s fingers grip Gojo’s white hair tightly as he plunges the singer’s head under the toilet water. Gojo flails around wildly, trying to resist, but after a few moments of struggle, he slumps over. Not dead, the agent thinks, roughly shoving the idol off the toilet, ensuring Gojo’s body is laying on its side. Don’t worry, Gojo fans, your precious idol will be just fine.

Although an assassin by profession, Snake Eyes does his best to avoid non-target deaths. The man who had collected him from his former family, who he learned is named Nanami, sometimes asked him about it, suggesting that perhaps a little compassion had leaked through despite his arduous assassin training. Snake Eyes doesn’t quite think so– unnecessary deaths are just that. Why spill more blood than necessary? That just makes a bigger mess for everybody involved.

Snake Eyes slips into Gojo Satoru’s outfit– black slacks, a light blue button-up, and black dress shoes. He plucks Gojo’s signature circular sunglasses off of his unconscious body and slides them on. He steps out and closes the bathroom door, taking a deep breath. With quick strides, the agent passes by the singer’s makeup and hair station. Snake Eyes gazes into the large mirror, studying his disguise. Wearing a mask offstage isn’t all too out of the blue, and Snake Eyes doesn’t want to take the tedious extra step of covering his seals with heavy concealer. The addition of Gojo’s glasses does wonders to protect his own identity– Gojo’s gorgeous blue eyes are one of his defining features– but something feels…off.

He stares more intently. The outfit looks fine, and besides being shorter than Gojo, the agent should be the spitting image of the idol. He even lucked out– they shared the exact same natural hair color. Speaking of which…

Snake Eyes’s gaze travels up to his hair. While his hair is naturally soft and puffy, locks falling over his forehead in cascades, Gojo’s hair is much more stylized, often gelled into soft spikes. A tub of hair gel sits on the makeup table in front of him. Knowing what he has to do, Snake Eyes gets to work.

“An interesting look, Snake Eyes,” Yuuta’s voice comes in as the assassin steps back to admire his handiwork. After poking and prodding his newly-gelled hair for a minute or so, his reflection finally produces a satisfying imitation of Gojo. “And might I say, what an excellent performance you put on. If this line of work ever falls through, I think show business will be an excellent next step in your career. You’ll already have a die-hard fan.”

Snake Eyes wants to retort, but the creak of an opening door snaps the agent’s gaze over to where a muscular man waltzes into “his” backstage lounge– Fushiguro Toji.

“Gojo!” his voice, deep and sleazy and cunning, calls out to him. “Great to see you.”

The assassin straightens up, noticing two people following Toji into his lounge. I need to get him in here, alone, he thinks to himself quickly.

“Actually, Gojo,” Toji says, closing the distance between them, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”

He tilts his head up to meet Toji’s gaze. “And what would that be?” the agent asks, perfectly imitating Gojo’s voice.

Toji turns to the two men who’d followed him inside. “I’d like a private word with him,” he announces. “Wait for me outside.” With a hurried bow, the two guards leave the room. “Now, Satoru…”

Snake Eyes watches with sharp eyes as Toji strolls up to him. “You wanted to speak with me?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yes. You see, I’m a big, big fan of yours,” Toji says, grinning, and Snake Eyes is acutely aware of the vertical scar that cuts through the right side of Toji’s lips. “The lights. The music. The fans. I love it. And I know you’re popular as you are…but I can make you even bigger.”

Snake Eyes narrows his gaze, channeling his idea of an egocentric music star into his acting. “I’ve just come back from a world tour. I’m topping every chart I enter. What more can you do for me?”

At this, Toji’s scarred lips turn upwards into a grin. “I had a feeling you’d say that,” he sighs, “but it can’t be helped. Let me ask you this, Satoru. Who is your biggest competition right now?”

“It’s Geto Suguru,” Yuuta tells him instantly. Snake Eyes echoes his words.

“Of course. I know you two haven’t been on the best terms after your group split.” Snake Eyes feigns anger at his words. “But I have the power to give you the upper hand.”

The agent pretends to consider his words. “...Go on.”

“Excellent,” the bounty hunter announces, eyes gleaming underneath jet black bangs. “My plan is this: I will kill Geto Suguru, and in return, you’ll give me 20% of your revenue every month starting after Geto is dead.”

Snake Eyes lets out a singular laugh. “Do you really think I’m that desperate to stoop to levels like that?”

Toji holds eye contact with Snake Eyes for a moment, a knowing look on his face. “Oh, Satoru,” he sighs wistfully, breaking away. He strides over to the window, silently gazing out.

An opening.

As soon as Toji turns, arms clasped together behind his back to stare out the window, Snake Eyes pulls out his weapon of choice— a fiber wire, consisting of two cylindrical handles connected by a thick black wire. He closes the distance and strikes, wrapping the wire around Toji’s neck. He tightens his hold on the handles and pulls, knuckles going white at his grip. Toji’s strong body struggles against him, trying to push the agent away, trying to scream, but with his airway being forced closed, it’s only a matter of time before he submits to death. With one last strangled breath, Toji goes limp, his head lolling off to the side. Snake Eyes wraps his arms around Toji’s body before hauling the corpse into a storage unit to conceal it.

“Target down. Fushiguro Toji will no longer be meddling in business he has no reason to be sticking his nose into. Great work, Agent. Now to find an exit. Although,” he pauses for a moment as Snake Eyes straightens up, “you may want to change out of that outfit. As good as it makes you look, agent, it may cause some unwanted attention.”

“From you?” Snake Eyes mumbles back in a rare moment of banter. It has his intended purpose, though– his handler makes a very audible squeak. However, he understands Yuuta’s concern, and he quickly returns to the bathroom to retrieve the backup dancer outfit he’d donned earlier. With as much tidiness as his hurried exit allows, Snake Eyes dresses Gojo back into his original outfit and locks the bathroom from the inside. He swipes something from the makeup table before jumping through the window to make his escape.

Yuuta chuckles over the receiver. “Perhaps,” he says, picking up the conversation as Snake Eyes ducks through the festival crowds, making his way towards the train station. “But are you sure my eyes are unwanted attention to you?”

The assassin chooses not to respond, instead tucking his chin down and descending into the train station, exiting the mission parameters. As he steps onto the train and prepares to head back to the Six Eyes facility, Yuuta’s voice meets him again.

“Mission Complete.”

—------------------

Snake Eyes has come to expect smooth-talking and occasional flirting from Yuuta. In between eliminating his targets, stealthily moving through mission sites, and skillfully forcing diversions, Yuuta always manages to slip in some sort of compliment, an off-hand remark of some kind. They’d started out small. “Good work, Agent” and “Well done” were common for Yuuta. Then he evolved to “That disguise looks quite good on you. Perhaps I should ask Six Eyes to expand your wardrobe.” But over time, Yuuta had gotten bolder, saying, “You see…” on a handful of occasions.

Their first meeting hadn’t gone quite so swimmingly, however. When Nanami brought Snake Eyes to Yuuta’s office for the very first time, the two of them locked eyes with each other in some sort of silent stalemate. Snake Eyes because, well, he very rarely speaks, and Yuuta because he felt incredibly shy (although the agent wasn’t sure why). Finally, Yuuta had broken, and he said, “Okkotsu Yuuta. A pleasure,” while extending his hand. The agent had only responded with a nod.

During their very first mission together, Snake Eyes had managed to take out the target with noticeable speed and ease, not a trace of blood or a witness to be found. Like his namesake, the agent wove through the site like a snake through grass, only making his move when it was far too late for his victims to escape. As he’d boarded the getaway vehicle, Yuuta mumbled into the receiver, “You’re very impressive, Snake Eyes.”

Snake Eyes wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that statement, or any of Yuuta’s subtle advances to come. He won’t lie to himself, from the moment he laid eyes on his new handler, a feeling he’d never experienced before wormed its way through his body. The way Yuuta’s curious eyes surveyed him up and down, the calculated yet kind expression he held as he did so…

He knew not to think of it. There was no room for love in the world of assassins. Any sort of fondness is a weakness. The best assassins are ones that border between the line of human and machine, killing without a thought of morality. The split-second of hesitation that crosses an agent’s mind before they pull the trigger could be the difference between success and failure. And as much as Snake Eyes liked to think he excels at his job, he knew that his training has not completely freed him of human emotion. Yuuta was the worst offender of his shortcomings. Although he longed to gaze upon Yuuta with a softer, more inviting expression in his eyes, Snake Eyes resorted to granting him the same cold, steely look that he gives everybody. They are agent and handler, merely coworkers in their deadly profession, and it was far too dangerous for Snake Eyes to see him as anything else.

But as the two of them worked together, Snake Eyes began to uncover little tidbits about him.

Like how Yuuta’s eye bags make him look like he hadn’t seen sleep in years. His desk is never devoid of caffeine. A paper cup of Six Eyes coffee one day, a lukewarm mug of tea the next.

Or how Yuuta, even while working as a handler in the line of assassin work, is more compassionate than a saint. Or, at least Snake Eyes thinks so. He greets his coworkers with a small wave and a “Good morning!” every day, sounding genuine even through the professional tone of his voice. And sometimes as the agent walks through the Six Eyes’s office, he sees him talking with other handlers, giving them advice, walking them through a mission briefing, or providing reassurance. Snake Eyes finds it strange that someone in the business of taking lives is so…nice.

But that’s exactly the reason, Yuuta explained.

“I want to help create a kinder world for everybody,” Yuuta had told Snake Eyes once after a mission. “And we cannot have a kind world when evil people hold the majority of the power. I will use whatever power I have to protect innocent lives.” A flicker of…something…crossed his eyes that day. “No more innocent deaths.”

Snake Eyes has been on the receiving end of this compassion more than once. Even more than twice. Quite a few times, in recent memory. It comes in a few forms, he’d realized. It comes in Yuuta handing Snake Eyes a box of bandages upon returning to the facility, having witnessed a stray piece of shrapnel graze his cheek. It comes in Snake Eyes stumbling through the doors of the Six Eyes building late at night after a grueling mission, long after the majority of workers had left the facility for the night, to find Yuuta still there waiting for him, a relieved smile daring to peek through his professional demeanor. It comes in handing the agent a blueberry muffin before his mission in Shibuya, telling him he needs energy to perform well.

Most notably, Yuuta’s flirting and confidence during missions is a well-masked attempt to cover up his constant worrying. Every close call or minor injury has Yuuta fretting over the receiver. While on an overseas mission, Snake Eyes had accidentally injured himself after miscalculating a fall while trying to make his exit. Yuuta had half a mind to stop pestering the agent after he’d managed to limp his way to safety, but as soon as Snake Eyes had returned to headquarters, Yuuta immediately swooped in and carried him to the infirmary himself. The agent had protested, insisting that he could walk just fine, but he was met with a firm shake of the head and a long winded ramble about being more careful on missions. The assassin never quite forgot the look of fear and worry shining in his handler’s eyes.

Snake Eyes wasn’t Yuuta’s first assassin, he knew that much. But deep down, he wondered if Yuuta looked at each of his assassins with that same anxious gaze, one that overflowed with genuine concern. He doesn’t know, and he is too much of a coward to ask.

And truly, Snake Eyes wishes he wasn’t, especially when he’s met with those anxious eyes upon his arrival back to headquarters.

The two of them always debrief after a mission, going over what went well, what could have been executed more smoothly, and what upcoming missions the two may tackle in the near future. Towards the beginning of their partnership, Snake Eyes went straight to Yuuta’s office after missions, and he’d be waiting there for him without fail. More recently, though, Yuuta had taken to waiting for his assassin in the Six Eyes lobby, so that Yuuta was the first person Snake Eyes encountered after entering the building. The assassin didn’t question this change of routine, but the nagging curiosity never quite left him.

As soon as Snake Eyes enters the facility, he spots his handler, clad in his usual uniform of a white button-up and black dress plants, standing off to the side. Yuuta looks up, alerted to someone’s presence by the opening door, and sees Snake Eyes approaching him. He immediately closes the difference and ushers the agent into his office.

Yuuta’s a good deal taller than him, with dark hair parted to one side and eye bags smudged under his blue eyes. As the two of them make their way up the stairs, Snake Eyes is treated to a view of his handler from the back, his white button up just barely hiding the toned body underneath. He’s muscular, tall, and strong– Snake Eyes often wonders why he didn’t become an assassin himself. Yuuta always responds to that question with a light-hearted quip about not wanting to get his hands dirty and that he’s more useful providing intel. “I’m not meant to be a fighter,” Yuuta told him once. Snake Eyes wasn’t sure of what to make of that statement.

The walk to his office is a brief one, with Yuuta offering casual conversation and the assassin humming along. As they reach Yuuta’s office, the handler prompts the agent to take a seat at the table a few paces away from his desk. As Snake Eyes sits down, he watches his handler close the door with some finality before joining him at the table.

Yuuta opens his mouth to begin the debrief, but Snake Eyes holds up a finger to stop him. With curious eyes, the handler watches as his agent pulls something out of his pocket and holds out a palm. It’s a pair of sapphire stud earrings, previously belonging to Gojo Satoru, now sitting in the palm of an assassin’s hand. Snake Eyes doesn’t miss the excited gleam in Yuuta’s eyes as his handler gawks at the jewelry.

The agent doesn’t really remember when this whole thing started– when he started reciprocating, if you can call it that, Yuuta’s little comments and quirks. During their time as assassin and handler, Snake Eyes began collecting little trinkets from each of his missions to bring back to Yuuta. Keychains, film strips, artwork, small teddy bears, silk fans, and, at one point, a katana– Snake Eyes made it a game for himself to see what sorts of goodies he can take for the picking. No matter what he arrived back at headquarters with, however, Yuuta always kept it. The katana sits proudly on a chest near Yuuta’s desk, and the other memorabilia Snake Eyes had eagerly brought him are also displayed throughout the office.

“That’s most impressive, Agent,” Yuuta says, eyeing the earrings with a keen gaze. “I’m almost hesitant to accept this. It seems like such a lavish gift without any grand occasion attached to it.”

Snake Eyes only offers a shrug, gesturing to his palm once again. With a small sigh, Yuuta takes the earrings with a gracious smile. “Thank you, Snake Eyes,” he says as he puts them on, and the agent can’t help but notice just how well the sapphire studs complement the hue of Yuuta’s eyes. It should be criminal.

“Shall we begin?” Yuuta straightens up, his voice taking on a more formal tone. Snake Eyes responds by giving him a single nod. Yuuta leans forward and opens the case file. “Today’s mission was fairly cut-and-dry. You eliminated our target, Fushiguro Toji, using your fiber wire. You left three unconscious witnesses, one being Gojo Satoru, on the scene, all properly hidden. In short, this is a fairly standard, well-executed mission. I expect nothing less from you, Agent.”

Snake Eyes responds with a curt nod.

“As for unexpected complications,” Yuuta continues, eyes drifting up to meet Snake Eyes’s, “I’d like to hear your perspective.”

The agent presses his lips together underneath his mask. “Becoming a backup dancer was not an activity I thought I’d undertake today,” he replies in a dry tone.

The handler can’t help the small smile that crosses his lips, and Snake Eyes is quick to notice. The agent is not one of many words– in fact, he’d rather not talk at all if he can help it– so hearing the assassin’s voice is a special occasion indeed. “Such is your line of work,” Yuuta says with a sigh, his smile growing wider. “And I’ll reiterate my previous comments: you put on quite the performance. Teach me some moves once you get the chance.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at that one.

Yuuta continues, “No other obstacles besides that?” which is met with a shake of the head. “Alright. Onto more pressing matters, then…”

The assassin notices the shift in Yuuta’s tone in a snap, along with the way his handler’s eyes darken slightly. Yuuta twists the silver band on his finger, a nervous habit Snake Eyes had picked up on after their first debriefing session. Whatever words were about to come out of Yuuta’s mouth, Snake Eyes knew for certain that they were troublesome to his handler. He stays silent and waits for him to speak.

“Our next mission will take us onto an island off the coast of Japan,” Yuuta says finally, avoiding Snake Eyes’s gaze. “There is going to be a large masquerade ball held by the Zen’in clan. Here are your targets.” Yuuta slides two photographs across the table, which Snake Eyes takes. “Zen’in Naoya and Zen’in Naobito. They are vying for complete control of the Star Plasma Alliance. We must not allow that to happen.”

Snake Eyes studies the photos and commits the features of each target to memory. However, Yuuta isn’t finished.

“Before I continue, Agent,” he says, an uncharacteristic waver in his voice, “I must inform you that I will not be your handler for this mission.”

He flicks his gaze upwards, not bothering to hide the utter shock that takes over his face. Why? he wants to ask, but his handler continues.

“I’ve been requested to attend a meeting during the festivities,” Yuuta explains, fidgeting with his ring again. “And I’ve also been informed that people involved in Rika’s case will be present at this ball. This opportunity isn’t one I can pass up.”

There it is. The reason Yuuta is visibly anxious. During a mission in Melbourne, Yuuta had made an offhand comment about a childhood friend of his, and that prompted Snake Eyes to ask him more about them. Orimoto Rika, he’d explained, was his first love, and the reason he became involved in the line of assassin work. She’d died when they were just children, and although her death was ruled an accident, Yuuta had a gut feeling that there was something more sinister at play. Thus he joined the Six Eyes, and in between missions, he searched for answers to Rika’s incident, using his newfound access to information and connections to further uncover the truth. And this does not go unnoticed by the assassin– sometimes when Yuuta’s door is slightly ajar, he peeks in to see Yuuta perusing old case files, news articles, profiles of prominent government and underground figures, all the while twisting the ring on his finger– the one Rika had given him when they were young. This level of dedication, this endless search for answers, is fueled out of Yuuta’s past guilt— or, as he put it, his past love.

It’s what drives him, Snake Eyes realized that day in Melbourne.

He wonders what it’s like to have something, someone, to motivate you.

In the back of his mind, Snake Eyes knows Yuuta is right. When will they ever get this opportunity again? Yuuta had been hitting dead ends for weeks, and this is the first potential lead he’d had in what seems like longer. But the idea of having somebody other than Yuuta on the other end of the line makes Snake Eyes frown. Other handlers in the past hadn’t taken so kindly to his silence or his seemingly cold demeanor. Yuuta was the only one he felt even remotely comfortable with. He couldn’t imagine himself stealing trinkets for anybody else.

Yuuta seems to pick up on his apprehension, as he cuts in, “Try not to miss me too much, alright?” Even under the teasing tone of voice, Snake Eyes hears the way Yuuta’s worry clips each word. The handler reaches over to take one of the assassin’s hands in his own. “I will still be present at the ball. Should anything happen, you will always have the option of finding me.”

Snake Eyes wonders if every handler holds their assassin’s hand so sweetly.

“I’ve made arrangements for the two of us to meet at the ball after my meeting,” Yuuta says, giving his hand a squeeze. “Your temporary handler will give you more details regarding this. Do you have any questions?”

The agent’s eyes meet Yuuta’s. “Will you be wearing those at the ball?” He tilts his chin upwards, toward the earrings Snake Eyes gave him.

A glimmer dances across Yuuta’s eyes. “Are you requesting that I do?”

“Maybe.”

Yuuta chuckles, and oh, Snake Eyes could listen to this song forever. “If you so insist,” he replies. “How could I ever say no?”

—---

OGASAWARA, 18:48

Snake Eyes steps off the boat, dress shoes meeting the rocky terrain of the island, and he glances upwards. The mid-afternoon sun casts the large sprawling mansion in a bath of light, its grandiose architecture boldly on display. The assassin presses his lips together, taking in the mission parameters.

Tonight’s attire is different from what he’s used to operating with. The fitted black velvet tuxedo with a red satin dress shirt underneath is not unlike the various suits he’d sported for other missions, but the ornate gold masquerade mask adorning his face is very much unique for the occasion. Tonight is especially out of the ordinary, as Snake Eyes’s temporary handler, Kamo Noritoshi, advised him to ditch the face mask for the evening. Armed with an ungodly amount of concealer and setting powder around his mouth, the assassin climbs up the large winding stairs that lead to the Zen’in estate.

“Hello, Agent Snake Eyes,” Noritoshi’s voice buzzes in the assassin’s ear. “A pleasure to work with you for this mission. Today’s assignment is on the island of Ogasawara, at the Zen’in estate. The Zen’in clan is one of three families in the Star Plasma Alliance, an organization that is one of the most powerful and dangerous in all of Japan. They have a monopoly on armory and are notorious for their illegal buying and selling of weapons to various organized crime syndicates throughout the country. Our targets are Zen’in Naobito, the head of the Zen’in clan, and Zen’in Naoya, his nephew and heir to the clan. Rumors amongst the Star Plasma Alliance say that the Zen’ins have been planning to overthrow the alliance for months. Our client, who we have reason to believe is either from another clan within the Star Plasma Alliance or within the Zen’in clan itself, insists that we eliminate these threats at any cost.”

Snake Eyes gives an affirmative hum as he nods to the guards posted outside the mansion.

“Additionally, Agent,” Noritoshi continues, “once you’ve eliminated your two targets, you’re to rendezvous with Okkotsu Yuuta in the back courtyard. The two of you will exit the mission together.”

The agent hums again.

“I suppose you’re not one for words…” Noritoshi says, and Snake Eyes detects a hint of malice in his voice. The agent grits his teeth. It appears he’d been correct– not everyone takes to his silence well. Not everyone is like Yuuta, with his quiet acceptance and compliments.

What would he say at this moment? He would probably compliment his outfit, for sure. Maybe make a comment on the mask, or at the fact his mouth is unobstructed for the night. The agent holds back a grin. All the more reason to finish up this mission quickly– the faster he kills his targets, the sooner he can get to Yuuta.

Just the image of Yuuta in a suit and masquerade mask sends a shiver down Snake Eyes’s spine. With a microscopic shake of the head to clear any thought of his true handler out of his mind, Snake Eyes ascends the steps from the dock up the slightly hilly incline. Peeking out from just beyond his field of view, the Zen’in estate looms large.

As the agent approaches the mansion, he surveys his surroundings like normal. Tonight’s ball is one for Star Plasma Alliance members, potential clients, investors, and social elites. Each person bears a mask covering their eyes to hide their identity. The venue is quite packed– as suspected by Snake Eyes at the beginning of the mission. With a determined gaze, he enters the estate, prepared to scout out the property and find potential opportunities to strike. He nods politely to the two guards flanking the entrance to the mansion and makes his way through the house.

The first room Snake Eyes slips into is the ballroom, where the majority of partygoers are already lingering. It looks even bigger on the inside, with ceilings that seem to ascend forever and a crystal chandelier perched overhead. Covered tables line the side of the room, and other guests mingle with each other and sip from golden glasses. Waiters flit about the room, offering light refreshments from the trays they carry. The dance floor is occupied by people making conversation, striking up trade deals, or networking. Snake Eyes makes mental notes of his surroundings and heads towards the staircase at the other end of the room.

Unfortunately, two masked guards stop him before he can get any further.

“We’re sorry, sir,” one of them says, holding out a hand. “This area is off-limits for guests.”

Snake Eyes bows apologetically and draws back. Although getting stopped is a setback, it serves a grander purpose in the assassin’s litmus test of the estate– the mansion is heavily guarded, and he will need to proceed with a heightened sense of caution. He must find another way to get through if he wants to explore whatever’s on the second level of the estate. Accepting a temporary defeat, the agent slips into the next room.

He is greeted by a large gallery space with wine-red walls. However, the gallery is not filled with paintings or sculptures– the Zen’ins display some of their more decorative weapons, it seems, to further gloat about their status. The open space of the room is occupied by cubical glass cases, each boasting a single weapon:a jewel-encrusted dagger, an ornate lance, a shiny golden revolver. The center display case, the biggest and most prominent one, is noticeably empty.

Snake Eyes pretends to take a great interest in the displays, mulling over each one with feigned delight. As he heads to a new display case, the agent catches the tail end of a conversation. While maintaining his cover of intrigued art aficionado, Snake Eyes listens in.

“...the spear should be arriving tonight…I think they wanted it to be delivered during a big event to prevent any suspicion…”

“It’s a status symbol for sure.”

“Did they throw this whole party just to detract potential thieves?”

“I doubt it. But the spear is famous enough as is. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s at least half the reason why.”

The two voices drift away, and Noritoshi’s voice quickly replaces them. “The Inverted Spear of Heaven is a dagger prized for its beauty and lethality. The Zen’ins recently purchased the spear from an overseas auction, and it is arriving tonight on a secret ship. Naobito will personally be present to oversee the transaction and curation of this weapon. Locate the transaction details from somewhere inside the Zen’in estate.”

Snake Eyes bites his lip. The mission just became approximately ten times more complicated. With a small sigh, he leaves the gallery, checking out the other rooms on the first floor of the estate. Apart from being elegantly decorated, none of the rooms had anything more of note.

Gritting his teeth, the assassin heads into the courtyard, where he will be meeting Yuuta eliminating Naoya and Naobito. He pays little attention to the courtyard itself and instead around the mansion, ducking for cover between shadows and perfectly trimmed hedges. Two guards are stationed a few feet away from him and he grimaces. Glancing around, Snake Eyes’s gaze finds the brick-lined flower beds hugging the edges of the mansion, and his idea clicks into place. Dislodging two bricks, the assassin crawls through the cover of foliage to sneak up on the guards, a brick in each hand. The agent raises up the bricks, and, in one swift motion, slams them down onto each guard’s head. The guards crumple to the ground, and Snake Eyes drags their unconscious bodies into the bushes. He takes one of the guard’s uniforms and exchanges it for the tuxedo he arrived in. He tucks his tuxedo safely in a different bush– he’ll come back for this later. Snake Eyes ensures the bodies are well-hidden and re-enters the mansion, this time easily passing by the guards that stopped him earlier. He climbs up the stairs and reaches the second floor of the estate, ready to investigate.

“Zen’in Naobito is currently in a meeting in one of the conference rooms,” Noritoshi says. The meeting is top-secret, so security will be tight.”

Snake Eyes steals a glance at two guards stationed at the end of the hallway. He gives them a small salute and turns in the opposite direction, heading down the corridor. Once he’s out of earshot, the agent speaks for the first time that day. “How long is the meeting?”

“It’s been going on for about half an hour. I suspect it will run for at least another 45 minutes.”

With that information, Snake Eyes makes his way through the entirety of the second floor to get a feel for the layout. Two guards are posted at the ends of each hallway, and some closed doors have their own security guarding them. From what the agent can see, the only open rooms are a library, a lounge area, and a supply closet. Tucking his chin down, Snake Eyes enters the library in search of clues.

“Agent,” Noritoshi says, “according to the floor plans of the building, the room you’re in should be much bigger. There must be a fake wall in the room. I advise you to find it.”

Jaw set in determination, Snake Eyes searches the bookshelves lining the walls, poking and prodding at books that seem even the slightest bit ajar, picking up decorative trinkets to see if they have any sort of hidden switch. He runs a finger along the spines of the tomes as he walks by, tapping them softly.

Suddenly, one of the spines produces a hollow thunk, a stark contrast to the dull thuds of the other books. Bingo. Snake Eyes pushes the spine into the bookshelf, and it makes a satisfying click. The bookcase splits open, revealing a hidden door behind the shelves. The agent opens the door and is greeted with what seems to be a very ordinary-looking office: a desk with a lamp, computer, and papers resting atop its surface, several filing cabinets, and several cardboard boxes piled up in the far corner. There’s even a large potted plant tucked into a different corner, but judging by its location in the shadows, Snake Eyes suspects it’s fake. He takes a step into this hidden room and closes the door behind him.

The computer sitting idly on the desk piques the agent’s interest. He immediately boots it up and gets to work, tapping away at the keyboard. Unfortunately, Noritoshi’s voice alerts him of a roadblock.

“Agent, this computer seems to be protected with a unique identification system. It appears that a special card of some sort needs to be scanned to grant access to this device.”

Barely phased (although a touch disappointed), Snake Eyes abandons the computer and prods at the filing cabinets, all of which are locked. His eyes flit around the room until they land on a curious string hanging from the ceiling. The agent gives it a firm tug, and a trap door opens downwards, an attached ladder falling at his feet. Grinning at his little victory, Snake Eyes ascends the ladder and emerges in a dimly lit room. Blinking to adjust to the light, he finds himself in a supply closet. He helps himself to the screwdriver laying on a shelf, as well as a small handheld radio. If Yuuta were here, he’d chide the agent for stealing from the mission site. Snake Eyes would surely retort that what he was actually there for, killing people, is much, much worse than stealing. Yuuta would probably agree.

He twists the doorknob and opens the door just a crack. The supply closet lies at the end of a long corridor, and a pair of guards stands just a few feet away from the closet. He needs a distraction, and fast. The agent’s eyes drift down to the handheld radio still in his grasp.

It’s almost too easy for Snake Eyes. Blast the radio, hide behind a shelf in the closet, wait for a guard to come investigate, and incapacitate him once he’s out of view of the other guard. Once the first guard is unconscious, he takes out the other one easily, dragging the second guard into the supply closet and safely out of view.

With the guards gone, Snake Eyes carefully examines the third floor, choosing to stay crouched in case he needs to hide in a flash. Most of the rooms on this floor seem to be people’s personal bedrooms. However, one door catches the agent’s eye: one with a large wooden sign mounted overhead and guarded by two security men.

Zen’in Naobito’s room.

Snake Eyes ducks behind a large decorative chest, worrying his lip as he scrambles to think of options. Both guards face forward, and this time the agent doesn’t have a convenient nearby supply closet to lure them into. His best bet is to separate them and take them out individually. Thinking quickly, the assassin locks eyes on a decorative porcelain vase a few feet away from him and in the direct line of sight of the guards.. He pulls out the screwdriver he’d picked up from the supply closet and sends it flying towards the vase, the delicate porcelain shattering on impact. The screwdriver clatters to the ground, and immediately the guards perk up.

“What was that?” one of them asks.

“I’ll go check. Probably just fell over.”

At that, Snake Eyes circles around to the guard still at his post, incapacitating him immediately. He sneaks over to the other guard, who’s investigating the broken vase, and pacifies him as well. The agent drags his body to the front of Naobito’s door and plops it down next to the other guard. After picking the lock, Snake Eyes swings the door open, dragging in the unconscious guards one by one in case anyone happens to pass by. He stuffs the bodies into a clothing trunk for good measure.

Snake Eyes allows himself a moment to breathe. A moment of pure silence rings through his ears, and Noritoshi does nothing to fill it.

He really needs to stop thinking of Yuuta.

Snake Eyes regains his composure and immediately gets to work combing the room for clues. From the bedside dresser he finds a metal key and a white plastic card with Naobito’s face and a barcode.

“This must be the ID card for the computer,” Noritoshi offers.

That’s all he needs, really, so he exits Naobito’s room, making sure it’s locked. In fear the guards he’d pacified earlier regained consciousness, Snake Eyes decides to take the main staircase to get to the second level of the mansion. To his surprise, the guards previously at their posts are making a sort of mass exodus, heading down the staircase and into the ballroom area.

“Naoya’s meeting will be soon,” one of them says. “If you ask me, it’s fishy that he wants no security. What if something happens?”

“You know how he is. He’s paranoid that one of us is going to listen in.”

“Bullshit. Can’t believe he’s going to become head of the clan. I’d take Maki or Mai over him any day.”

Noritoshi’s quick to pounce on this new information. “Zen’in Naoya will be holding a private meeting on the second floor of the estate. There will be no guards present during this meeting, as Naoya is incredibly paranoid of anybody, even his own men, eavesdropping on their confidential conversation.”

Snake Eyes waits until all the guards clear out before returning to the library. He enters the secret chamber once more, and this time, he presses the plastic card up to the computer scanner. It gives an affirmative beep, and Snake Eyes all but sighs in relief. This time around, he digs into the files with ease, bringing up chat logs, receipts, and negotiations.

“The ship containing the Inverted Spear of Heaven will be approaching from the West of the estate,” Noritoshi says, scanning the data more thoroughly. “It will be arriving in about an hour. Zen’in Naobito will meet you at the western dock to escort you into the estate. How you eliminate him from there… I will leave up to you. Because there is a significant chunk of time until then, though, I suggest you use this time to eliminate Zen’in Naoya. The meeting will be held in the study down the hall.”

With a suppressed frown, Snake Eyes exits the library, checking every door he finds. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the agent finds a locked door. He fishes out the key he’d swiped from Naobito’s room and jiggles it into the lock. Snake Eyes slips in, and after relocking the door, he darts behind the bookshelf nearest to the window to hide. The assassin slows his breath, grateful that he entered without obstacles. The hard part is over– all he has to do now is deliver the final blow.

And now, he waits.

Snake Eyes watches the clock hung on the wall of the study, watching each tick of the minute hand with calculated calmness. There are moments in an agent’s career that are fast-paced: making decisions in the blink of an eye, ducking out of a witness’s field of vision at the slightest sign of caution, fleeing from an explosion or from being hunted. Those unfamiliar with the profession think that assassin work is all high-intensity. Snake Eyes knows better than that. Sometimes, the most effective elimination requires the agent to slow down. Be patient. Wait for the target to come to you. So Snake Eyes stays crouched behind the bookcase, watching the minute hand crawl its slow crawl across the face of the clock. He waits.

Ten minutes pass, ten clicks of the minute hand, and Naoya enters the study, followed by a young woman with glasses. He’s chatting with her about something, and by the cross look on her face, Snake Eyes deduces that whatever conversation they’re having isn’t going so well. They stand in the center of the room, Naoya gesturing with his hands as he speaks while the woman stands with her arms crossed over her chest.

The assassin brushes a hand over his gun. He could end him instantly with a gunshot between the eyes, and he knows Noritoshi is silently begging for him to do so. But that’s not how he does things. Directly killing Naoya at this moment in time would leave the young woman as a conscious witness.

“You could always kill them both, Agent.” Noritoshi’s voice teeters on the edge of snarky.

Never. Snake Eyes grits his teeth. In a silent retaliation, his eyes dart around the room, mind going a mile a minute. It’s never easy finding ways to kill people using the surrounding area, but it’s Snake Eyes’s way. He’s not the gunshot to the head kind of assassin, no. He’s strategic, creative, and always tries to spare non-targets.

His eyes float upwards towards the ceiling, and he spots it: an elimination method. A grin spreads across his face as a plan materializes in his mind. Snake Eyes pulls a coin out from his pocket and tosses it a few feet away from the woman, towards the door they entered from. The sound alerts both Naoya and the woman, and a frown crosses the target’s face.

“What was that?” he hisses.

The woman sighs and turns. “I’ll check it out. One of the guards probably dropped something,” she reasons, heading towards the noise.

“There are no guards on this floor,” Naoya hisses, taking a step forward. Snake Eyes grins. “Someone is eavesdropping on us.”

“We’re fine, you baby,” the woman shoots back. She takes a step out of the room to investigate the noise, and right before she turns back around to alert Naoya that the coast is clear, Snake Eyes makes his move.

In one swift motion, Snake Eyes pulls out his silenced pistol and takes aim at the ceiling, focusing his shot on the chain that holds the study’s glittering chandelier. He pulls the trigger, and the bullet zips through the air, snapping the chain with a loud CRACK! The chandelier plummets to the ground, and all Naoya can do is crane his neck upwards before getting crushed under the weight of the ornate light fixture with a deafening crash.

“Fuck!” the woman shouts, jumping back.

“Target down,” Noritoshi says. “Zen’in Naoya has been eliminated.”

Blood slowly pools out from the mess of broken bulbs and metal, and Snake Eyes holds back a smirk. It’s always so satisfying to see targets be eliminated in such a grandiose fashion, he likes to think. He knows he’s safe to leave, but he hangs around, observing the witness. Ideally, the agent would have pacified her before taking the shot at the chandelier to prevent the body from being discovered instantly. However, he figured the death looked enough like an accident to spare the woman from getting knocked out.

To his utter surprise, the woman approaches Naoya’s mangled body. She sidesteps the blood pooling from the rubble, kicks the chandelier away, and presses a foot down on the dead man’s head. She turns his head over with her shoe, squinting at the sight.

“Serves you right,” the woman scoffs, giving Naoya’s head a kick. With that, she exits the study, not even bothering to close the door.

“One more target still needs elimination, Agent,” Noritoshi reminds him. “Go down to the west dock and await the arrival of the ship.”

Snake eyes ducks his head and makes his retreat from the scene, pretending that the lack of Yuuta’s “Good work, Agent!” or “I must say, that’s a creative way to take out a target’ doesn’t make him at least the tiniest bit sad.

You never appreciate what’s yours until you don’t have it anymore, I suppose, Snake Eyes thinks to himself. He departs from the Zen’in estate, crawling through the bushes to remain undetected, and sneaks his way down to the western dock, all the while thinking of the wide smile Yuuta will surely have when he tells him he crushed Zen’in Naoya with a chandelier.

—--

Snake Eyes stands aboard the yacht, perfectly still as the gentle tide bobs the ship up and down. His previous bodyguard suit lay folded neatly in the cockpit for later retrieval, and he now wears the outfit of the lone man aboard the ship– khakis and a red flannel shirt. The agent holds his hands behind his back, a cardboard box at his feet.

Noritoshi had nearly cursed him out when Snake Eyes opened the box and snatched the Inverted Spear of Heaven for himself, sputtering “You can’t just do that!” as the agent replaced the weapon with Naobito’s pistol. The assassin simply shrugged. The spear can be Yuuta’s trinket from the mission, he reasoned silently, retaping the box. So Snake Eyes stands aboard the yacht, the Inverted Spear of Heaven concealed on his person, the retaped box at his feet. He spots an elderly man and two armed guards slowly making their way down the steps.

On cue, Snake Eyes picks up the box and closes the distance.

“Haibara, is it?” Naobito asks, eyeing the agent up and down.

“That’s me.”

One of the guards steps forward. “We will be entering the estate using an alternate entrance, as we discussed. Follow us.”

Naobito takes the lead while the two guards bring up the rear. The alternate route takes them on a short stroll of the beach, and if Snake Eyes wasn’t currently in an active mission, he would quite enjoy it. However, with the knowledge of his objective looming over his head and the blabbering of Naobito as he talks about how good and impressive having the spear will look to the other Star Plasma Alliance members, Snake Eyes wishes he were just about anywhere else.

As the four of them walk along the sand, Snake Eyes does what he always does– keep an eye out for anything and everything that can be used as a weapon. He needs to do something about those pesky guards, too– even though Noritoshi is surely fuming at him to just kill them already, Snake Eyes would simply rather not. As they continue their trek along the beach, the agent steps on something…oddly shaped. He stops in his tracks and kneels down to investigate, and the guards take a few steps ahead before stopping.

“Is there a problem, sir?” one of them asks.

Snake Eyes blinks, digging through the sand to find the culprit. He’d stepped on a starfish. Two, in fact. His eyes glance quickly over to Naobito, who hadn’t noticed a thing.

This has got to be the stupidest way I’ve taken anyone out, the agent thinks to himself, swiping up the sea stars in one hand and standing up.

“My apologies,” the assassin offers a slight bow. The guards turn back around and continue walking. Perfect. Taking the sea creatures and holding them as if they were throwing stars, Snake Eyes deploys them, aiming for the back of their head. The starfish whack the bodyguards with a slight thunk as their tough outer shells make content with the guards’ heads. Each of them falls down, unconscious but not dead, in a heap on the sand. Stepping over their bodies, Snake Eyes unsheathes the Inverted Spear of Heaven from his arsenal, taking quick but calculated steps. Naobito still rambles on, oblivious to his fate.

“For the sake of the Zen’in name, I will–”

Snake Eyes thrusts the Inverted Spear of Heaven clean through Naobito’s abdomen, twisting the dagger with finality. The old man freezes in his place, paralyzed by pain and shock. Not wanting to leave him any room for last words, the agent pulls the spear back out and stabs him in the head for good measure. Blood oozes out from his wounds and drips onto the sand as Naobito finally falls.

“Target down,” Noritoshi announced. “Zen’in Naobito is dead. Good work, Agent. Once you are reunited with Okkotsu Yuuta, I will hand you over to him.”

At that, the agent looks down at his hands and outfit. Blood coated his hands and stained his clothes. He’ll have to get cleaned up before he sees Yuuta. He sprints back to the yacht, returning his borrowed clothing to the man he’d stolen it from, and he takes the bodyguard uniform once more.

“I have to say, Agent…” Noritoshi muses, his voice a touch less formal. “You’re a very interesting assassin to work with. Yuuta is lucky to have you.”

Snake Eyes straightens up, disguise equipped, and exits the boat. To Noritoshi’s surprise, the agent responds.

“I’d say I’m the lucky one.”

—-

Snake Eyes hurries back to where he’d discarded his initial outfit of the night, the velvet suit and golden masquerade mask. With trained precision he changes his clothes and heads into the courtyard, slipping through the crowds of people as if he’d never left. The outside is packed– the open floor is filled with people, with even more guests hanging off to the side. String lights and decorative lamps adorn the area, and soft music lazily floats through the air. The assassin scans around, looking for the silhouette of Yuuta, gaze rolling over silk and satin and diamonds and gold until he sees a flash of blue. Holding a chalice, a tall man dressed in a long black coat and dark blue silk shirt leans against a pillar at the edge of the courtyard, the afternoon sun basking him in a heavenly light. His face, like everyone else’s, is hidden behind a mask. Regardless, Snake Eyes easily identifies him, and warmth spreads through his chest. He would recognize Yuuta anywhere.

The agent goes up to him, narrowly hiding the grin that threatens to overtake his face.

“Good evening, Agent,” Yuuta’s voice hums over the music. He tilts his head downwards. “I presume our targets are taken care of?”

He nods.

Yuuta’s satisfied with this. “Excellent. Here.” He thrusts his chalice towards the agent. “Some wine for the evening. The Zen’ins do know how to host a party, it seems.”

Snake Eyes takes a sip, savoring the earthy, floral notes of the alcohol. He holds eye contact with his handler as he does so, noticing the little studs of sapphire that decorate each earlobe. After setting down the chalice, the assassin reaches out a hand to gently brush Yuuta’s ear.

“I wore them, just like you wanted.” Yuuta’s voice takes on a softness that’s only ever reserved for conversations outside of missions, outside of the realm of their deadly work. That sort of tenderness is only for whispered confessions under the moonlight, for shy exchanges of affection over flower bouquets, for shared meals and secrets. Surely not for Snake Eyes, surely not for an exchange between assassin and handler. Underneath the mask, Yuuta smiles. “How do I look?”

The agent surveys him up and down. He’d never seen Yuuta like this, all dolled up in fancy attire. Sure, his normal uniform of white shirt and black pants is nothing to sneeze at, but seeing Yuuta here, adorned in silk and sunlight, was like seeing his handler through an entirely new lens. The way the light catches the gems on his mask is something Snake Eyes wishes he paid less attention to. And the way his silk shirt adds an air of luxury and elegance…

“Handsome,” is all Snake Eyes is able to say, and as soon as the word leaves his mouth, he regrets it. He regrets it because he wishes he could say so much more, and he really should not have said anything at all. Because now the floodgates are open, and Snake Eyes threatens to spill over. The music lulls to a stop as the song ends, the chatter in the courtyard drops to whispers, and all he can do is hold his breath, hoping by some miracle that his handler simply did not hear him.

But the taste of regret melts away as Yuuta’s smile grows tenfold. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he whispers, taking the assassin’s hand in his. “May I have this dance?” he says, louder this time, as he bows. A new song begins to play, smooth and inviting: perfect for a casual dance under the lights.

A hesitant smile crosses Snake Eyes’s face. He nods.

Yuuta leads him towards the center of the courtyard, among the socialites and the rich and the powerful. He intertwines his fingers with the agent’s, and softly, gently, they begin to dance. Snake Eyes allows Yuuta to take the lead, stepping in time to the music, swaying with each other. Yuuta pulls him close, and he takes the opportunity to ask, “How did your meeting–”

The handler interrupts him by dipping Snake Eyes down, holding him with arms much too muscular to be those of a handler’s, eyes glimmering. “Not now,” he whispers, pulling him back up. “Too many people.”

Snake Eyes is keenly aware of Yuuta’s strong hands on his lower back, of Yuuta’s breath in his ear, their proximity to each other. He hates it. He loves it.

“Have I ever told you, Agent,” Yuuta mumbles, sweeping Snake Eyes off his feet, “that out of all of the agents I’ve ever worked with, you have been my favorite?”

The music crescendos, and in time to the music, Yuuta sets him down and continues their dance as he goes speechless. Playing favorites in the line of assassin work is a deadly, deadly game. And to admit it in such a public setting, during a mission, no less…

“You’re quite agreeable to work with as well,” Snake Eyes finally mutters.

A teasing smile overtakes Yuuta’s face as he twirls the agent. “Oh, don’t sound so apprehensive. I don’t recall seeing any coworkers with a pair of earrings formerly belonging to Gojo Satoru.” He pulls away for a moment to look into the assassin’s violet eyes. “Did you miss hearing me on the other end?”

Snake Eyes blinks at him innocently, giving the most microscopic of shrugs.

“Well, I missed you, Agent Snake Eyes.” Yuuta’s eyes crinkle into a smile. As the music tapers off, he steps away from Snake Eyes to take a bow, prompting the agent to do the same. Once they stand upright again, Yuuta snakes a hand around his neck and pulls him close.

“Meet me in the garden at sunset,” he whispers, his hand moving to cup the assassin’s chin. His eyes flicker up to meet Snake Eyes’s gaze, and for a brief moment, his expression falters. He mouths something, and the agent can barely make out the word “sorry” leaving his lips. Snake Eyes wants to ask him what he’s sorry for, why he looks so nervous, but just as instantly as it came, it disappears. Yuuta’s lips brush against the agent’s cheek, so delicately that Snake Eyes could easily mistake it for a dream, and he pulls away, a charmed smile on his lips, and gives him one final bow. And with that, Yuuta breaks away, a flash of black and blue dissolving into the crowd.

—-----------

Noritoshi bids Snake Eyes a final farewell as the agent paces down the steps, taking in the vast expanse of the Zen’in garden, filled to bursting with blooming flowers, perfectly trimmed shrubs, and cobbled paths. In the center of the garden sits a large marble fountain, gently humming with the rippling water, and this is where the agent spots his handler.

The setting sun casts Yuuta’s silhouette in a brilliant orange glow. The handler’s back faces Snake Eyes, and he’s gazing out towards the garden. He holds his hands behind his back, and if something didn’t feel amiss, Snake Eyes would’ve indulged in a few more seconds of admiring him. But something about Yuuta feels…wrong. Something is ringing the alarm bells in the agent’s mind, but he can’t pin down what. The way Yuuta’s holding himself, the way his back is turned to him, the way he’s standing up straighter than he’d ever seen him stand makes him grit his teeth. He takes a few cautious steps forward.

“Inumaki Toge,” Yuuta says aloud, back still turned, prompting Snake Eyes to stop short. “That was a name that came up during my meeting today. Does that name sound familiar to you, Agent?”

Snake Eyes steels his gaze. The edge in Yuuta’s voice makes his blood run cold. “No.”

“I figured as much.” Yuuta bends down and brushes a finger against a rose. “Do you remember, Agent, when I told you that there would be people in attendance at today's ball that knew of Rika’s incident?” His voice, though slightly airy and playful, thinly veils the bitterness underneath.

“Yes.”

Finally, finally, Yuuta turns around. “That day that Rika passed, I couldn’t bear to look at her. They buried her body right away, and I’d always been under the assumption that no autopsy had been performed on her. However…” he takes a single step forward, “...the coroner of her case happened to be here tonight. And he told me something very interesting.” His blue eyes resemble the tumultus expanse of the ocean on a stormy night, dark and sinister and simply ruthless. Snake Eyes could drown in them.

“Rika was hit by a car. She died from her injuries before she ever made it to the hospital. But during the autopsy, there were non-accident-related injuries on her. Fresh ones.” He crosses his arms idly. “Bruising around her neck, as if someone tried to strangle her. A cut on her cheek, most likely from a throwing knife. And a buildup of lactic acid in her legs, like she was trying to run away from something.” Yuuta flicks his eyes upwards. “The accident took place on the edge of a forest. There were very few witnesses. But one witness reportedly saw a boy flee the scene as soon as the paramedics showed up.”

Snake Eyes doesn’t dare say a word.

“And even more interesting,” he continues, taking another step towards the agent, “is his description of this boy. Platinum hair. Light purple eyes. And,” he leans forward, “mouth tattoos that resemble snake eyes.”

The agent grits his teeth. This…this couldn’t be. He didn’t remember this at all.

“And I know what must be going through your head,” Yuuta cuts in, pacing around him in slow, taunting circles. “‘This couldn’t be. I would know.’” Yuuta throws his arms up in an exaggerated display. “And I would be inclined to believe you. However…” He cocks a brow. “I’d done some digging in my off-time. While I wasn’t occupied with Rika’s case, of course. I wanted to know more about my charming little assassin.”

At any other moment, Snake Eyes’s heart would have twisted at the sound of being called “Yuuta’s charming little assassin.” But the venomous tone of Yuuta’s voice leaves a bitter taste in the agent’s mouth.

“It’s very odd indeed. My initial search had me coming up empty for a very long time. No records of you before your initiation into the Six Eyes. Not even your name.” Yuuta tilts his head at him with a mocking look in his eyes. “I knew better than to ask you directly. It’s Six Eyes protocol for agents’ memories to be wiped before training, you know. But normally, agents have birth names. Normally, agents have a trackable family history. So I was genuinely, morbidly curious when I began to search and came up empty-handed.” Yuuta tilts his head. “Luckily, the meeting included someone who knew about this boy. The one with the platinum hair and the snake eye tattoos. Said he came from the Inumaki clan. And that the Inumaki boy had tried to kill my dear Rika.”

He laughs, but it’s nothing like Snake Eyes had ever heard before. It’s too sinister, too guttural, too menacing to be Yuuta. Was this the same man who asked him to dance just a few hours earlier? The one who swept him off his feet, the one who wove whispers of affection in between steps of their dance? Was this the same Yuuta?

“Where’s your proof?” Snake Eyes demands in a tone he never thought he’d use with Yuuta.

Yuuta’s eyes light up. “I thought you’d never ask, dear Agent!” He reaches into his inside pocket and produces something– a photograph. “Here you go. Here’s your proof.”

With a tremble in his gloved hands, Snake Eyes takes the photo. It’s a picture from the crime scene. Rika’s body lay lifeless on the ground, blood pooling out of her in a red puddle so large she seems to drown in it. The driver of the car is off to the side, on his knees, calling somebody on his phone. And standing on the other side of the road, almost out of frame, is a boy, probably around Rika’s age. Snake Eyes squints. Platinum hair that’s slightly tousled from some sort of strenuous activity. Lavender eyes gone wide at the sight of the dead girl in front of him. Mouth open, out of shock or fear or dread, with mouth tattoos that strongly resemble snake eyes.

Snake Eyes’s gaze travels down to the boy’s hand. The boy’s small hand is clutching what appears to be a fiber wire. Just like the one he used to eliminate Fushiguro Toji the other day. He grips one handle, while the other handle dangles by his knee.

“Look familiar?” Yuuta’s jeering voice rings out.

The agent can’t find it in him to reply. Who took this picture? When did this happen? Why was this the first time he’d ever known anything about his past?

The handler sighs. “All this time…” he whispers, his voice breaking softly, “all this time, I’d been looking for answers…and you were right here all along.” He locks eyes with the assassin, fury threatening to overflow. “Inumaki Toge.”

And then Snake Eyes hears it. A rustle from the rose bushes. His eyes dart around, and to his horror, several armed guards emerge from the trees, the flower beds, and behind the fountain. Each of them has an assault rifle pointed his way. His hand itches to fly towards his holster, but he can’t. The agent is totally surrounded. One wrong move spells death. He casts his gaze up at Yuuta, his violet eyes pleading, Why?

Suddenly he’s face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. Snake Eyes grits his teeth, a sinking feeling of dread settling in his stomach. His handler tilts his head, taunting him. “You know what the worst part is, Agent?” Yuuta’s voice booms as he shoves the gun closer to the agent’s head. “The worst part is that you don’t even remember. Did you ever wonder what you were before you became one of us? Before your memory got erased?” The question rings through the air for a moment. When the agent fails to reply, Yuuta spits out, “You were a killer. You always were. It’s all you ever will be.”

Snake Eyes’s heart plummets. His mind’s running a mile a minute, trying to figure out why Yuuta’s doing this, why is he trusting these people all of a sudden, why is he bringing up his past. But if what Yuuta says is right…

“I’m sure you understand, Agent…Inumaki,” Yuuta says with a shrug, “that nothing comes for free. I was hesitant, of course, when they told me the price of the information I sought, but once I heard that you were involved all along! Well…” He produces a small handheld remote from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and, with one last pitying look, Yuuta’s thumb presses down. “I’m sure you know.”

At once, pain shoots through Snake Eyes’s throat, like someone shoving a fistful of knives down his esophagus. Immediately his hands fly to his throat as he begins to cough, and he instantly tastes metal. Blood.

“Wh…Wha…”

“Save your breath.” Yuuta flips the device in his hand. “Remote-activated toxin. A kill switch, if you will. Incredible what the Six Eyes is capable of, don’t you think?”

Snake Eyes falls to his knees, his entire chest engulfed in a searing, sharp pain as he continues to hack up blood. The beautiful cobblestone garden, now painted with the agent’s blood, boasts ugly red stains. He…Inumaki Toge, that’s his name now, that’s always been his name, apparently, shuts his eyes tight, as if that would make everything and everybody go away. The wine. It was in the wine.

Every fiber of his body wants to beg for mercy, to plead his case. That it wasn’t him. To beg Yuuta to snap out of it. To say he’s sorry. Sorry he doesn’t remember. But the assassin side of him comes first, always. And an agent must never lose their composure, even when compromised. Toge seethes as another wave of pain rolls through his throat and fresh blood dribbles out of his mouth.

Blearily Toge looks up, and Yuuta glares down as he towers over him, gun still trained at his head, nothing but darkness in his handler’s eyes. Toge always knew Yuuta would make a good assassin– he’s strong, he’s deadly, and he’s intimidating. But he never thought it would be under these circumstances. Not like this.

The agent’s brain goes fuzzy. He’s lost too much blood. Is this how he goes down? Agent Snake Eyes, rising star of the Six Eyes, taken down by his own handler. Toge never gave himself the luxury of theorizing his own death. He’d always assumed he’d be compromised during a mission. Perhaps he’d get caught in the outskirts of an explosion. Or maybe he’d be done in trying to stealthily complete a mission. But all this time, never did he think that someone would have it out for him. Toge cracks a bloody smile as his body finally gives in, and he collapses onto the cobbled path.

Take me, he pleads to the bloodied ground.

Faintly he hears the sound of rustling fabric, and Toge’s eyes slowly flicker up to see Yuuta suddenly at his side. Care to deal the final blow? he wants to ask, but his throat burns with iron and the words die before they even begin to form. The agent just looks at him, helpless to do anything. Even on his deathbed, Toge can’t help but commit every feature of Yuuta into memory. His gelled hair. His stormy blue eyes, His hard-set jaw. Even through the sting of betrayal, Snake Eyes wants to reach out to him.

Then Yuuta’s voice is in his ear again, just like old times, just like how it’s supposed to be, and Snake Eyes almost feels relieved. “I am sorry,” he says, although Toge fails to hear any traces of guilt in his tone. “This is a necessary evil.” The handler drops his voice lower, softer, so that Toge has to strain to hear it through his fading consciousness. “Goodbye.”

Snake Eyes feels the ghost of a hand placed on his chest as darkness leaks into his vision. So this is it. If he cannot die with a bang, if he cannot die valiantly, perhaps it’s alright that Toge dies by Yuuta’s hands. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta. Toge wills himself to smile one last time. If he must die, he thinks to himself as he finally slips under, perhaps dying by Yuuta’s side is the best death he can ask for.

—---------------------

“So you knew. All along. You knew, and you never told me.”

“To an extent. I knew of the Inumaki clan, but I was unaware of Rika’s incident.”

“Why did you stay quiet all this time? Why did you keep this from me?”

“Yuuta, disclosing an agent’s past is against Six Eyes’s protocol. You know this.”

“How could you have sat idly by while I…I was losing myself…working so hard…to uncover what happened…how could you have seen me and said absolutely nothing?”

“I knew. You needed an agent. So I assigned Toge to you.”

“Isn’t that unnecessarily cruel? You assigned to me the person who killed my childhood love to be my agent!”

“Again. I was unaware of this.”

“What more are you hiding from me, Nanami?”

“Do you plan to kill him?”

“That’s the deal I made.”

“What did they tell you about the Inumaki clan?”

“Nothing. Only that Snake Eyes originates from them. I didn’t think it important to ask.”

“Well, Yuuta. I think it’s important that you know. The Inumaki clan has lived in secret for generations. They’ve dedicated themselves to creating the perfect killing machine. It’s why Snake Eyes rose through the ranks of the Six Eyes so quickly. He had done this all before.”

“...what?”

“We are unaware of the Inumaki clan’s motives. But we are aware that they exist, and that they are a clan of killers. It seems like our dear Snake Eyes was raised to be one as well. But he was disowned from his clan.”

“Disowned?”

“The seals are given to those who complete their training. After receiving his seals, he was sent out on his first true mission. To kill Orimoto Rika. Apparently she had been playing too close to the Inumaki clan’s estate boundaries. But, evidently, Snake Eyes failed. Either Rika got away, or his conscience got to him first. The Inumaki clan couldn’t bear to have a failure in their ranks, so they disowned him. Not without leaving him for dead, though. He was barely breathing when I found him. I recognized the seal of the Inumaki clan on him, so I thought he would be a great addition to the organization.”

“Left…him? For dead?”

“The Inumaki clan is quite ruthless in their methods. From the limited knowledge there is of the clan, we know that rising clan members are expected to excel in their performance, and those who do not are punished. Brutally. And once they receive their seals, those who fall short are killed.”

“...that’s…that’s horrible…”

“And let me tell you something, Yuuta. When I saw Snake Eyes for the first time after bringing him in from the infirmary, he cried as soon as he saw me. He cried so hard that he soaked through my shirt, the bastard. And he was shaking. He was so broken he couldn’t speak. He wrote the words “my fault”, “sorry”, “failure” on his arms with a pen. Over and over and over.”

“...is that why he’s…so…”

“He was just a boy, Yuuta. The same age as you and Rika. Imagine living a life like that. Having to take lives to ensure your own. It was a mercy to him that we wiped his memory.”

“...he…he never chose this life, did he? He was born into it, and you kept him trapped. What did he want?”

“Snake Eyes doesn’t know life outside of killing. That's all he knows.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“Yuuta, I did some digging while you were at the meeting. The man who requested you is a member of the Inumaki clan himself.”

“...what?”

“It seems that they caught word of Snake Eyes being alive, and they want to ensure that he never returns to the clan in an act of vengeance.They want to finish off what they tried to end years ago. And they must have found out about your connection to Rika. It all fits perfectly. They had a bargaining chip to get you to hand him over. It seems like it worked.”

“...Nanami…”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Yuuta. If you want to kill him, then I’m not of the authority to stop you. But Snake Eyes is a valuable agent, one of our organization’s best. And the two of you work together seamlessly. On a more personal front, I’ve never seen you so happy before meeting him. If those earrings of yours are any indication, I suspect something a little more than just an amicable coworker relationship.”

“You…how did you…”

“I know that this information is a lot to take in, but you need to make your decision. It’s almost sunset.”

“This isn’t…”

“Fair? Life isn’t fair, Yuuta. Neither is the business of taking it. Now go. Toge will be waiting. I trust that you’ll make the right decision.”

“Alright.”

“...”

“...but is it really my decision to make?”

—------------

The bright fluorescent lights of the Six Eyes infirmary wasn’t the first thing Toge expected to see as soon as he opened his eyes. Hell, he didn’t expect to open his eyes at all. He blinks once, then twice. Toge closes his hand into a fist and opens it again, lifting it up in front of his face. Looks like his fingers are intact. Soreness weighs down his body like a sack of bricks, and for a moment, he considers going back to sleep. Squinting as he adjusts to the light, Toge’s eyes do a sweep of the infirmary. Nothing to his left, no one at his feet. As he turns to his right, however, he spots a very familiar handler, still clad in his coat and silk shirt, slumped over in a chair.

Yuuta.

Instantly his mind begins to race. What was Yuuta doing here? How did he get here? How is he alive right now? What’s going on? Did Yuuta bring him here? Then why…

Toge opens his mouth to speak, but his throat immediately flares up in pain. Gritting his teeth together, Toge can only think of one thing to do: to escape.

With as much grace as he could possibly conjure, the assassin pushes himself off the hospital bed and takes a tentative step. The wobble in his legs and the weakness in his body make him curse whatever poison Yuuta gave him, but he’s an assassin, a trained one at that, and he’s capable of powering through anything—

He takes another step, and his legs give out beneath him. Toge crumples to the ground, internally cursing all the way down. The sound of his body hitting the floor reverberates in Toge’s ears, and secretly he hopes Yuuta doesn’t hear it.

“A-Agent?” Yuuta’s sleep-riddled voice calls out.

Fuck.

“Agent? Snake Eyes?...Toge?” Yuuta’s footsteps go click click click against the infirmary’s linoleum floor, and Toge wills himself to crawl away.

He can’t bear to look into Yuuta’s eyes. Not right now. Perhaps not ever.

“I’m sorry.”

The words echo in the assassin’s mind. Toge’s heart freezes. He doesn’t dare turn around.

“Toge…I…” Yuuta’s voice wavers, “please. Let me explain.”

The agent stays motionless.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you. I swear. Please, I can explain everything.”

The silence chokes the air between them. Slowly, slowly, Toge turns around, trembling. Keeping his eyes plastered to the ground, he gives his handler a singular nod.

“Thank you,” Yuuta breathes out. “I’m going to help you back to your bed. Is that okay?”

The assassin gulps. He’s not sure if it is. His mind is too busy spinning with questions that he doesn’t register his body nodding on its own accord.

With another mumbled thank you, Yuuta’s arms scoop up the assassin, princess-style, and the handler carries him back to his bed. The cool brush of silk against Toge’s aching body makes him shiver slightly. He surveys his limited view of Yuuta’s shirt, the brilliant blue shimmering underneath infirmary lights. However, Toge catches what appears like a dark stain on the blue shirt. And another. And another. As Yuuta sets him down on his bed, Toge finally takes in Yuuta’s full appearance. He looks just as dazzling as he did under the lights of the courtyard, but Toge doesn’t fail to catch the various stains all over his body, and the suspicious rusty residue lingering on Yuuta’s worried face.

Immediately Toge’s hands fly up to sign. “What happened to you?” he signs.

His handler simply looks at him for a moment, a mixture of disbelief, fondness, and fear behind his eyes. “I think it best to tell you from the beginning, Agent,” Yuuta responds, pulling up his chair to Toge’s bedside.

“Alright.”

After sitting back down, Yuuta leans over and places a hand on Toge’s leg. It sends shockwaves through Toge’s belly. “During that meeting, I met the person who requested my attendance. It was somebody from the Inumaki clan– your family. They told me that you killed Rika, and they gave me that picture for proof.”

Toge gulps. Not off to a great start.

“But you didn’t kill her without reason. The Inumaki clan raises killers. They condition their children to become the deadliest assassins possible.” These sentences are already too much, too fast for Toge to comprehend, but Yuuta’s not done. “You know your tattoos? The ones that made us call you Snake Eyes? They’d just been given to you. They’re a sign of initiation, that you’d completed training.” Yuuta can’t help brushing a finger over the tattoos adorning Toge’s mouth. “You were going on your first real mission. Rika was your target. But something happened, and you didn’t end up killing her. Your clan banished you after that.”

Toge looks up at Yuuta, absolutely bewildered.

“After the meeting, I was a mess,” Yuuta admits, running a hand up and down Toge’s leg. “It…it hurt, kind of. To learn that you’d done such a thing. That you were the culprit all along.” At this, the assassin’s jaw tightens. Yuuta quickly adds, “Not that you directly killed her. That was the driver. But still…to know that you were involved… I wasn’t sure what to do. But then I talked with Nanami. He told me about your family. It’s…it’s not your fault…what happened to Rika. You were just doing what you were told to. We were all so young…I can’t imagine what life would have been like for you.”

A deep frown overtakes Toge’s face, but he doesn’t say more.

“Nanami told me that the Inumaki clan found out you were still alive, and they wanted to use information on Rika to get me to hand you over. The initial exchange was me handing you over for the information, but I convinced them to let me kill you myself.”

Toge raises his eyebrow. Yuuta quickly waves his hands.

“Clearly that didn’t happen!” he sputters. “And it was purposeful on my part. I didn’t want to kill you, clearly, so I devised a plan. The toxin I slipped into the wine is nonlethal, but just potent enough to convince those none the wiser that it’s fatal. And once you came to the garden, I had to act like I was double-crossing you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Yuuta continues, “I needed to put on a convincing act. I’ll admit, some parts were…easier than others.”

The agent gulps. Yuuta yelling “‘You were a killer. You always were. You always will be.’” felt like a knife right through the heart. His words burn bright and fresh into his memory. Was that really acting? Toge shifts his eyes.

“Some of the lines were greatly exaggerated.” Yuuta taps Toge’s leg. “And after you collapsed, I took everyone out.”

Toge blinks. “...you...huh?”

“I took everyone out.”

The agent eyes Yuuta’s…less-than-socially-acceptable, to put it lightly, appearance, examining the dried blood with a frown. “There were at least five of them. How the hell did you survive?”

“I’ll have you know, Snake E…Toge…” Yuuta quickly corrects himself, “handlers receive training too. Not nearly as extensively as assassins, but I know my way around a gun.”

“There were FIVE of them! With assault rifles!”

“I guess I'm just that good,” Yuuta shrugs with a smug grin. He can’t resist a chuckle at Toge’s baffled face. “I’m joking, Agent. I’ve got more tact than that. The clan member requested your corpse be taken back to the clan estate. I managed to take each person out while they were distracted trying to load your body into their vehicle.” He looks down at his bloodied clothes with a disgruntled expression. “I must say, Agent,” he sighs, “watching you kill people is much, much easier than doing it myself.” He shakes his head. “This was such a nice shirt, too…after seeing you complete so many missions without even a drop of blood to show for it, I thought it’d be easier.”

“But why did you kill them?” Toge signs, a tight-lipped frown on his face. “There was no reason to.”

“Nanami told me that they wanted you back so that they could kill you. So that you’d never be able to go back in an act of revenge. I didn’t want to take the risk of them finding out you survived my little stint. So…I killed him. And everyone else. I didn’t want to leave any traces behind.”

“Yuuta…”

“When Nanami told me about what they did to you…” Yuuta tilts his head down, “at first, I didn’t know how to feel. But after a little bit, I just felt…angry. Like I needed to make him pay for everything they did to you.” He pauses, and Toge can see the fury brimming below his calm and collected demeanor. “I know you’re not one to have any non-target casualties. But I couldn’t let them just…get away with that. They needed to pay.”

Toge can’t take it. The sheer anger Yuuta has on his behalf…even after all Toge had done to hurt him…he was an accessory to Rika’s murder, for God’s sake… No, he can’t. He can’t. “Y…Yuuda…” Toge crackles out, his voice soft and scratchy. He instantly begins to cough. Curse the poisoned wine.

At the sound of his name, Yuuta’s head snaps up. “Toge! Please, please, save your voice. The toxin will take some time to wear off. Please continue to sign until the effects are no longer present.” Even under the formal tone of his words, Toge sees the glimmer of joy shining from his handler’s eyes.

But something’s still nagging at Toge, no matter how much relief (and utter disbelief) courses through his body.

“Yuuta,” Toge signs, “are you not angry at me? About Rika?”

The glimmer in his eyes falters, eclipsed by a faraway sadness. A small smile forms on Yuuta’s lips. “It’s…it’s something I’ll have to come to terms with,” he replies after a moment. He’s choosing his words very carefully, Toge realizes. “I understand that it was not necessarily by your own volition. It was a product of your upbringing, and you are not at fault. You were just a child raised in a terrible environment. That’s not something I will ever blame you for.” He pauses. “I’ll be honest. It will most likely take some time until I completely move on from it. Even if I know the truth, the truth doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

The assassin nods slowly, a pang of guilt echoing through his conscience. “Did you really mean it…” Toge signs, hands lowering from shame, “when you told me I’ll never be anything more than a…a killer?”

Yuuta pales at his words. “Oh, Toge…” he mumbles, brushing a hand through Toge’s platinum locks. “That was for dramatic effect. Of course I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true, though,” Toge signs bitterly, tearing his eyes away from him. “This is all I know.”

“It doesn’t mean it always has to be that way,” the handler retorts.

“And what about you?” Toge asks, glancing up. “Now that you know about Rika, what will happen to you?”

Yuuta watches the flurry of Toge’s signs and gives a small nod. “When I first joined the Six Eyes,” he says, playing with the fringe of the blanket on Toge’s bed, “I planned to stay for only as long as I needed to. Once I figured out the truth behind what happened to Rika, I’d leave.”

Toge’s face remains neutral on the outside, but his heart sinks just a tiny bit. Oh. Of course. He should have expected as much. Yuuta had a life before organized crime. Of course he’d want to return to it in some capacity. Why would he ever want to stay?

“Will you be leaving, then?”

Yuuta’s gaze shifts. “That was the plan. But I’ve been…reconsidering.”

Oh?

Toge reaches over and gently, oh so gently, takes Yuuta’s hand in his. He tries not to giggle at the immediate pink flush that overtakes his handler’s cheeks.

“You…You can’t just do that while I’m…” he mumbles. “Well…I’d formulated that idea when I initially joined. But, if I’m honest…after we became partners, I’d started to doubt that plan.”

Toge runs a thumb over Yuuta’s knuckles, prompting him to keep going.

“It’s strange. With other agents, missions were a means to an end. I never got to know them outside of necessary dialogue. There was nothing wrong with them, per se, but I never felt the urge to. Every mission was just one step closer to finding out what happened to Rika. But when you were assigned to me…well…I stopped wishing for missions to end as quickly as possible. They didn’t seem like a chore. They almost felt…fun. Chatting with you while you’re at work is always the highlight of my day, no matter how grueling the assignment. And getting to know you has been a delight, really.” He pauses, and for a brief moment, he glances down at the silver ring on his finger. “It reminds me of the love I had for Rika back then.”

The agent’s thumb freezes in place.

Love?

“But clearly, this is different. These circumstances are by no means traditional. If not for you, I’d have left Six Eyes as soon as I came ashore from the mission. But for some reason, the thought of leaving, and leaving you, makes me more uneasy than I’d like to admit.” A small but cheeky smile finds its way onto Yuuta’s face. “Who will bring me swords or necklaces if I leave?”

Momentarily Toge withdraws his hands to sign, which earns him a whine from Yuuta. “Speaking of which…”

Yuuta watches in awe and shock as Toge pulls the Inverted Spear of Heaven from his jacket.

“It’s a little bloody, so it should probably be cleaned before you do anything with it,” Toge signs after placing the dagger into Yuuta’s unsuspecting hands.

“You…what???” Yuuta cries. “Do you know how much this is worth???”

Toge shrugs. “Thought you would like it.”

Yuuta turns the spear in his hands, admiring the unique shape. “...it’s hard to imagine me leaving,” he says fondly, “especially when I have you.”

“Forget about me for a moment. If not for me, what would you do?”

The handler sighs. “Well, even if I wanted to leave,” Yuuta says, “it would be very difficult to do so. Six Eyes would never let me walk out of here without wiping my memory, at the very least. I’d never actually looked into the policy of leaving. I’m not actually aware if one exists at all. That is something I would need to discuss with Nanami.”

Toge hums in affirmation.

“But if I stay,” he continues, looking over at his partner with nothing but fondness in his eyes, “as long as you’re my assassin, I’ll be content.”

Unfair. Toge wants to bury his head in his hands and squeal. He settles instead for a shy blush and a turn of the head. “I don’t want to hold you down.”

“Hold me down?” There it is again, that soft voice from Yuuta that caught Toge off-guard in the courtyard. “That’s the furthest thing from the truth. If anything, Toge…” Yuuta takes Toge’s hand and plants a soft kiss onto his knuckles, “you remind me why I’m here. To take down the people who use their power for terrible purposes.” He smiles, and it seems to say, Why else would I be here?

Toge opens his mouth to reply, but the brush of Yuuta’s lips against his hand causes his brain to short-circuit. He wills his cheeks not to flush bright red. It doesn’t work.

“And you, Agent? Snake Eyes? Toge? What will you do?”

“If you leave, I suppose I’ll just be assigned a new handler. I never thought of leaving. I don’t know anything outside…this.”

“Is that something you’d want?”

The assassin shrugs. “I don’t know. I never thought about it. Maybe? I might get antsy.” His gaze drifts downwards. “There will always be people like them out there…” Even as he signs, Toge isn’t quite sure who he’s referring to. Toji Fushiguro? Zen’in Naoya or Zen’in Naobito? Or perhaps his own family, the one who robbed his childhood of happy memories in favor of blood and weapons. “...so there will always be people like us. And I can use my aptitude to help.” He adds on, “I would be sad if I was assigned to another handler. Noritoshi was…fine. But I like you better.”

Yuuta seems satisfied with this answer. “I’m glad to hear that,” he says, voice just a tad shy. “I wasn’t lying when I told you that you were my favorite, you know?” And before Toge can react, Yuuta continues, “Oh! Now that we know your real name, I suppose calling you ‘Snake Eyes’ during daily conversation may not be the most pleasing for you. What is it you’d like me to call you?”

Toge hesitates before holding his hands up to sign. “Call me ‘Agent’ and ‘Snake Eyes’ while we’re on missions,” he signs, “but when it’s just us…you can call me ‘Toge’.”

“Alright then, Toge,” Yuuta says with a grin, and the assassin’s heart flutters at the sound, “do you need anything right now?”

The agent takes Yuuta’s hand once more and plants a quick kiss of his own, not bothering to hide his wide smile when his handler exclaims.

“Can you…stay? Here? With me?”

Toge means it in a lot of ways. For Yuuta to stay with him in this moment, here and now in the Six Eyes infirmary. For Yuuta to continue to be his handler. For them to keep working together, flirting over the receiver as Toge brings him gifts.

And maybe, just maybe, for Yuuta to stay by his side for however long fate allows.

The handler’s heart melts. Silently, Yuuta stands up and presses a kiss onto Toge’s lips, just as light and dreamlike as the one in the courtyard. “Of course,” he whispers, looking at Toge as if he’s his entire world. “I would never want to be anywhere else.”

—-----------------

LAS VEGAS, 22:04

Toge steps out of the limousine and into the night, sporting a fitted suit, black gloves, and a black face mask. He takes a step onto the sidewalk, and then another, the flashing of neon signs and beaming lights enveloping him.

“Good evening, Agent Snake Eyes,” Yuuta’s “handler” voice buzzes in his ear. “Your destination today is the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, Nevada. Our target is Kinji Hakari, a Japanese casino owner and ringleader of a global gambling ring. Nicknamed “The Restless Gambler,” Hakari has roped multiple global elites into his gambling scheme and has plans to buy up a number of casinos both in Japan and the United States. The jackpot for tonight is a detailed list of all active Six Eyes operatives. Who leaked that information is unknown at this point in time, but for now, we must ensure that this list stays within the confines of the Six Eyes. You must eliminate Kinji Hakari and keep Six Eyes’s security protected. They say the house always wins, Snake Eyes. I say we try our luck.”

Toge grins coyly under his mask. The stakes are high. He’s in an exciting new place. And he’s got Yuuta on the other end of the receiver for support and guidance.

“Mission: Active. Good luck, Agent.”

The assassin allows himself a chuckle as he enters the casino, lilac eyes zipping around the perimeter, trying to familiarize himself with the layout of the building. Secretly, though, he’s thinking about something else. This doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t get swept up by the gambling frenzy, Agent,” Yuuta teases. “You’ve got a mission to complete.”

Toge’s not wanting to jump on the slot machines or sneak his way into a blackjack session. He is, however, thinking about a different gamble, concerning the little game he plays with Yuuta. What trinket shall he get from Vegas, he thinks to himself.

A small smile overtakes his face as he thinks of the perfect gift for Yuuta, the revelation giving him a spring in his step.

He wonders if Hakari or any of his gambling goons have a diamond ring on hand.