Chapter Text
The stupidest ones were always the one who hung around the alleyways. Akashi had enough experience to know this by now; the cheap thugs who hung around the shadows and promised empty threats and held guns to your head but would flee as soon as they saw one companion fall. They always wore dirty hoodies, smelled like the cheap cigarettes you could steal from the corner store with ease because the manager was half blind and only getting blinder with age, and couldn't hold in their liquor, stumbling around after dark with their slurred crooning to find a girl. They always had guns that they held up with trembling hands. If you swung your fist back to fake a punch, they'd scream and run. If they were really stupid, they'd drop the gun as well.
Stupid ones make an easy job, at least, Akashi muses. He turns his head to address the rest of the group.
"We'll try to make it a clean job today," Akashi orders. "The military wants these guys gone as soon as possible so just strike them down. No killing today."
"Why do we always get the dirty jobs?" Aomine complains, loading his gun. "Not to mention boring ones."
"Because we're State alchemists," Kise quips, leaning against the side of the building. "You know this by know, Aominecchi. They quite literally tell you 'congratulations, you're a dog of the military now!' when they hand you your silver watch and paper. Plus, you're part of this team which has 'doing all the dirty jobs' in it's job description."
It was already dark and the lamps flickered in the night, the street devoid of people besides the four of them. Akashi silences them, beckoning them to follow his lead as he turns the corner into a decrepit alleyway. It's dead silent and the only audible noise is the sound of their boots thudding against the concrete, stepping through trash and puddles, crushing shards of glass. Akashi turns another corner. At the end of this alleyway sat a small dimly lit bar. The permeating smell of booze and cigarettes only grows stronger as they approach the bar. Men inside are hollering and guffawing, clinking their glasses and Akashi scrunches his nose in distaste as he walks up the small grungy flight of stairs to the back door of the bar. It's padlocked and boarded shut. Akashi jangles the doorknob experimentally. The flimsy thing comes off as soon as Akashi tries to turn it and he tosses it aside and it falls to the cement with a clatter. He signals for the rest of them to stand back a bit as he places his palms on the door, transmuting the door to pieces.
The bellows and carousing inside the bar stop when they see their back door has been blown to bits, ogling at the red haired teenager standing there, clad in a cloak that matches the color of his hair as he surveys the scene. Barely two dozen guys, and a couple of women - prostitutes - probably not with them, he notes and that's when the first bullet comes whizzing towards him. It lodges in the door frame, near Akashi's face and he flashes them a fiendish smile, not wavering at all. He steps towards the man closest to him and swings his fist back, punching him hard enough to knock him off his seat and fall back unconscious, his nose bleeding.
"Who the hell are you!?" the others demand as they stare at their fallen companion in a mix of horror and outrage. Someone else lunges at Akashi with a knife and he dodges, kneeing them deftly in the crouch. When they bend down in pain, Akashi brings up his left arm up, jabbing his elbow into the guy's back, prompting the latter to collapse. Akashi pries the knife out of his hand and turns around, having already heard the footsteps of someone else trying to sneak up from behind him, plunging the knife into the man's chest, invoking a pathetic strangled gasp of surprise from him, eyes widening.
It's at that time, the other three come into the bar to aid Akashi. Aomine takes his gun and shoots one guy in the leg twice, and uses his elbow to jab the face of another. Kise throws one guy to the ground, jumping out of the way from a round of bullets fired at him, kicking the gun out of their hands. They whimper as their weapon skids across the floor, falling on their behinds crawling backwards away from Kise, pleading for mercy. Kise, of course, shows none and kicks the both of their heads, rendering them unconscious. Murasakibara takes his knife and plunges it into the stomach of another, even temporarily using him as a human shield when rounds are fired at him and he throws him on top of smaller guy so he's pinned under the heavier, unconscious man. At this point, nearly half of their men had been taken out and the remaining hold up their guns, rage written all over their face as they shout about how they weren't about to be taken out by a couple of brats. Akashi claps his hands, the transmutation circle on his gloves lighting up briefly as he sends a small spark of flame towards one guy, burning his hands. He lets go of the gun he's holding, wailing in pain.
"They're alchemists!" he wails, furiously wringing and blowing on his now raw hands. A companion standing near him opens fire upon Akashi, and the redhead, taken slightly by surprise, holds his left arm out in front of him to shield himself, the bullet lodging in his arm.
"W-what?!" the guy cries out in confusion. "Why are - how are you still standing? You're still a kid!" He fires another bullet at Akashi's arm and Akashi lets out an amused chuckle. The sleeve of his cloak is ripped now anyways so he sheds it entirely, leaving him in a sleeveless tank that clearly shows his arms. His left arm was made entirely out of gleaming automail with two bullets now lodged in it's forearm, denting the exterior a bit. The guy sputters in surprise, firing several more bullets, all of which graze or lodge into Akashi's left arm and when Akashi tries to raise his arm, he finds it's been damaged too much, wires showing through and parts badly dented. He curses under his breath, jumping out of the way of another bullet.
"Can't transmute anymore, now, can you!" the man says gleefully and Akashi lets out a pitiful sigh for the man, raising his right arm and snapping his fingers, burning the former's hands as well, just like how he had done to his companion. The man lets out an ungodly screech, dropping to his knees and sobbing.
"Oi, oi, Akashi, you're going to get murdered for that stunt. And I don't mean the burning," Aomine calls, grinning wolfishly as he disarms another guy and Akashi winces sheepishly. Another snarling man pushes his companions aside, staring down their intruders.
"You brats think you're the only alchemist?" he demands and he lunges towards Aomine, clasping his hands around Aomine's right arm and there's the sudden flash from the transmutation, Aomine's arm breaking in half.
"Wh-?" the alchemist says in shock, taking a step back and Aomine grunts, the ripped sleeve of his blue cloak showing automail torn apart, wires dangling and metal parts barely hanging on. The other half of his arm scattered in various parts across the floor of the bar: nuts and screws strewn everywhere and bits of wires and metal flying yards away.
"Both of you have automail!?" he yelps. Aomine wastes no time, kneeing him in the stomach and the alchemist doubles over in pain. Murasakibara transmutes a set of handcuffs from a discarded gun, clasping it over the man's hands, and for good measure, Akashi decides to burn the skin off the flesh of his palm so the tattooed transmutation circles are gone, leaving behind raw, bloody hands as the alchemist screams and curses out.
The remaining members stare in fear before backing away, firing their guns randomly out of sheer terror for the lives, shattering light bulbs, lodging bullets in the counters and legs of stools before they start to make a run for the exit, pushing the door open in a haste, stumbling and swearing. Kise presses his hands together before they can make it out the door, a flash of light appearing before a transmuted cage had trapped the remaining members, causing them to curse and howl, rattling the bars of their makeshift prison.
The prostitutes had edged away into a corner during the fight, cowering in fright as they take in the scene before them. The bar is left a mess, half the light bulbs shattered and several flickering, glass from the bulbs and fallen alcohol bottles smattered on the ugly yellow painted floor. They're all defenseless and Akashi picks up his discarded cloak, walking over to them. He couches down in front of them, where they shrink away at his presence, whimpering.
"Are you with them?" Akashi demands and the girls shake their head frantically.
"We were just told to come here-" the girl in the front with wavy brown hair cries out, sounding close to tears. "So if you need something, if you want something from us, if it's our bodies - I'll give you mine - just please don't touch these girls, they're barely old enough and this is the only way we can survive-"
Akashi shakes his head, smiling gently. "We're not going to hurt you. And we don't want anything from you, least of all your bodies," he reassures. "We won't lay a hand on you."
The girl's blue eyes widen in relief and she nods frantically. "Thank you," she murmurs. "Who are you...?"
"We're State alchemists," Akashi admits and a few of the girls let out a soft gasp. "I don't know what you've heard about us, but no matter how shameful it is, we promise we're not going to report you the military, not when you've done no wrong."
The girl, who apparently is their make-shift leader of sorts, shakes her head again. "No, no, we were just surprised considering that you're all so young. We have no right to judge when we make a living like this." She spits out the last word.
"Are you all alright to stand?" Akashi asks and she nods, getting up, wobbling a bit before steadying herself. She stands shorter than Akashi, self consciously tugging down her short dress that barely covers enough and he offers her his cloak which she takes gratefully. Instead of draping it around herself, however, she passes it back and it's draped around a short girl with blonde hair who whispers a barely audible thank you.
Kise walks over to the phone that sits on the counter, dialing the military to arrive so they'd arrest the criminals and he jabbers rapidly into the receiver, giving them instructions and when he looks at Akashi, mouthing 'front door or back door?' and Akashi mouths back 'front'.
"Come through the front door, uhhhh not the back," Kise says hastily before putting the phone down. "You better get going," he says, nodding to the girls. Murasakibara had finished prodding at the prisoners in their cage, demanding they hand over their coats and jackets and they have no choice but to comply, passing them through the bars to Murasakibara who places them on the floor, transmuting them into half a dozen more cloaks. He brings them over to the girls, handing one to each of them and they all whisper their gratitude as if they couldn't talk above a whisper.
"Thank you very much!" the girl in the front says, bowing deeply to them, the other girls following in suit. "We don't deserve your kindness."
"Nonsense. Walking out in your current attire this late at night can't end in anything good," Akashi dismisses. Aomine comes over and a few girls give apprehensive looks to his half torn automail. He presses a gun into the girl's hand.
"It's loaded - woah, don't point that at me," Aomine informs, holding his hands up in surrender as the girl weighs the gun in her hand, pointing it experimentally ahead of her.
"Thank you," the girl repeats as she puts the gun down.
"No need to thank me," Aomine grumbles, clearly embarrassed as he scratches the back of his neck with his still good arm. "I just took one of their guns. You guys have gotta scram now before the military shows up."
The girl beckons for the others to follow her as she starts to walk towards the back door, but before she steps out of the bar, she looks back at them with apprehension. "We never even caught your names."
"Aomine," Aomine grunts, jerking a thumb towards himself. "Akashi. Kise. Murasakibara," he says, pointing at all of them in succession and the girl's eyes widen.
"I - I should've guessed - you guys are -" she stammers.
"Yeah. That's us," Aomine shrugs. "The prodigious State Alchemists."
She opens her mouth to say something but then closes it, bowing her head before hurrying out the door with the rest of the girls following her.
The military shows up about fifteen minutes later, arriving through the front door and handcuffing the criminals, thanking the four of them for their hard work as always. They nod and file out of the back door and into the night. Akashi shivers slightly, having given away his cloak. It's a few hours past midnight, in the middle of the night and he proposes that they best head back to their dorms in Central headquarters.
"But I'm hungry," Murasakibara complains. "We could go to that good twenty four hour diner first, couldn't we?"
They're mostly unscratched from the fight although Kise has a few cuts on his arms from when the bullets had grazed him. He's limping slightly on his already weak knee, Akashi notes. Akashi himself has two cuts across his cheek and Murasakibara has a cut down the side of his left leg. Aomine trudges along, carrying the majority of the other half of his automail arm that had been blown apart, otherwise unharmed.
"Now who's going to be the dead one?" Akashi mocks. "You're even worse off than I am."
"Shut up," Aomine snaps with all his brilliance. "I'm going to die. I can't just die, I haven't lived long enough yet," he frets.
"We could go to that diner," Kise says thoughtfully. "I'm kind of hungry too."
"Wonderful, Ryouta's paying then?" Akashi says as they walk out of the alleyway and back onto the streets.
"Sounds good," Aomine grins and Kise frowns in protest.
"It's Aominecchi's turn to pay though!" Kise argues hotly.
"I'm injured and disabled. Cut me some slack," Aomine sniffs as he whacks Kise with the half of his arm in his good hand.
"Ow! Aominecchi! Don't do that! Automail hurts," Kise cries out, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head and glaring reproachfully at Aomine. They walk down the street, turning onto another, one notably cleaner and well lit. They walk a few more blocks before reaching their favorite twenty four hour breakfast diner, the Teiko Diner, located near Central headquarters. The familiar blackboard that displayed all the daily specials on it sits outside as always, although it's too dark and poorly illuminated to read. Akashi opens the door, the bell tinkling as they walk in. The checkered floor is burnished and gleams, the diner lit with a cozy feel, quiet music playing from a radio perched on one of the shelves mounted on the walls. A single waitress scrubbing down the counter looks up to greet them, giving them a friendly, tired smile which they return. There's one other customer in one corner of the diner, nose buried in a book with an untouched drink in front of him and the four of them sit on the other side of the diner, squeezing into a booth. The waitress in a white serving outfit comes over and passes out menus. They don't bother glancing at them, having already been here so often, reciting their orders for the waitress to jot down.
She comes back a few minutes later with their food, wishing them a good meal before returning behind the counter. Aomine picks up a fork with his left hand, grumbling about what a pain it was to eat with his non dominant hand and Kise brags about how he'd knocked three guys out with a move he had picked up from one of the previous incounters with criminals they had to take care of. Akashi takes a bite out of his french toast, chuckling slightly as Aomine savagely tells Kise to shut up and stop emitting sparkles.
The music drones on in the background and the man in the other side of the diner shifts in his seat, taking a sip out of his drink. He seems to be staring at them, peeking up from the book every so often. He hasn't flipped the page the entire time they've been here. Akashi tries to ignore him, knowing that if it was important enough, the man would say something. Judging by the grudging sip, Akashi guesses he's here to do something else and only ordered the drink because they thought they'd be kicked out for not being a customer. Everyone knew that the owners of the diner were the nicest in town and that they'd welcome just about everybody and anybody, paying customer or not, as long as they didn't cause trouble. Akashi thinks it's safe to assume that if the man doesn't know this, he doesn't live in Central, or at least, hasn't been living here for very long. Akashi checks the clock on the opposite wall: nearly two in the morning. Not the time most civilians were out for a stroll or sitting in a diner. The man has gray hair that sticks out from under the hat jammed on his head and looks decently tall. Akashi's so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Kise was talking to him until Kise waved a hand in front of his face, calling for his attention.
"Earth to Akashicchi!" Kise calls and Akashi snaps out of his stupor, blinking in surprise.
"Yes, Ryouta?" Akashi turns his attention back towards his friends and Kise stares at him in concern for a moment before repeating what he said before.
"I said we're going to visit Kurokocchi's tomorrow," Kise says and Akashi cringes slightly. Aomine blanches as his eyes trail to his broken arm on the table.
"Suddenly," Aomine announces, shoving his plate away. "I don't feel so hungry anymore."
"Eat," Akashi advises. "It's probably our last meal."
"It was nice knowing you, Aka-chin and Mine-chin," Murasakibara says around a mouthful of waffle and syrup. "Let's hope Kuro-chin's in a good mood tomorrow."
"I'm going to fucking die at the age of fifteen before I even get my arm back," Aomine bemoans, poking moodily at a sausage in his plate.
Akashi can see the man finally get up, leaving a few bills on the table before closing his book and standing up, staring long and hard at their direction - at Akashi specifically? - for a moment before walking out of the diner, the bell tinkling. Akashi knows he's done quite enough to earn him a long list of enemies and people who'd like his head on a plate so he's not particularly worried. But yet.
"Kurokocchi is terrifying when he's angry," Kise agrees, patting Aomine's back sympathetically. "How long have you known Kurokocchi anyways?"
"Eleven years. Uh. I think," Aomine says.
"Twelve," Akashi corrects.
"There you have it," Aomine shrugs. "I've known Tetsu and Akashi for twelve years of my life, wow."
"Sometimes I forget you guys are technically brothers," Murasakibara adds.
"That is so not true," Aomine deadpans. "We're not brothers. Tetsu's not our brother either. Tetsu's parents were just generous enough to take us when after the incident."
The incident, which none of them ever say aloud because it's always been a touchy subject. A train from a neighboring country travelling to Amestris had crashed, and out of the two hundred people on the train, it had been possible to count the survivors on both hands without using all fingers. Akashi and Aomine, who had been on the train were only two years old, barely old enough to talk and walk. They had miraculously survived the crash, having been small enough to wiggle out of the crack and crevices of the debris, although not completely unharmed either. They had both lost an arm - Akashi his left and Aomine his right. They'd been dropped onto the streets after that and it had been sheer luck for them that the Kurokos had found them and were generous enough to take them in, even giving them automail. They raised the two boys just like their own, along with their own son, Kuroko Tetsuya. Adoption had always been a messy thing in Amestris for the past decade or so and officials had only cracked down on it a couple of years ago, so technically, Aomine and Akashi were still orphans.
"I don't think I'd ever want to be related to Daiki," Akashi says, wrinkling his nose and Aomine sticks his tongue out. The two of them had known each other for the longest in the group, were rather close, and could not get along. At all. "Daiki wet the bed until he was eight. Disgraceful," he informs and Kise snorts with laughter, cracking up and Aomine's jaw drops in outrage, glaring at Akashi and Kise.
"Why you bastard - Akashit couldn't sleep without a stuffed animal until he was nine," Aomine proclaims and Akashi kicks him under the table, the latter yelping in pain.
They finish their food and Kise is forced to pay, leaving a couple of bills and a generous tip on the table before leaving. It's nearly three when they leave, yawning and sauntering down the streets back to the dormitories. They arrive back at the dorms, unlocking the door and tiptoeing in quietly so as not to disturb anyone, walking up to their shared dorm on the second floor. It wasn't so much of a dorm as it was a flat, complete with a bathroom and a small kitchen. State alchemists were paid well and pampered to be dogs of the military.
Akashi switches on the lights, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a drawer. He rummages around, tossing towels at each of them.
"Go clean up your wounds," he orders. Most of the blood must have dried by now and perhaps it would have been a better way to treat them right away but they were nothing serious. There would be no need to visit Midorima to treat them. Akashi carefully extracts the bullets from his arm the best he can with a pair of pliers he finds in the drawer, throwing the bullets into the trash. He unhooks his State Alchemist watch from his belt, placing it on his nightstand.
Akashi cleans his own cut but it's not deep enough to need any bandaging and instead, sits down next to Kise, helping him bandage his arms and his knee.
"Thanks Akashicchi," Kise says gratefully before standing up and stretching. Akashi patches Murasakibara as well, who in return, pats Akashi's head to show him his gratitude. They're sweaty and gross but they ditch the idea of taking a shower in the middle of the night, not wanting to wake anyone else up. Instead they slip into pajamas, flopping on their beds.
The lights are off and Akashi lies in bed, the taste of French toast in his mouth as he recalls the memory of the mysterious man. Some part of Akashi felt that he should know the man but Akashi's positive he's never seen him before in his life. But the man had stared so attentively at Akashi, as if he knew everything about him. Akashi can already hear Aomine's snores and he sits up from his bed, reaching for the glass of water he always kept next to his bed stand. He takes a sip, running a hand through his hair and he picks up the watch, moonlight glinting off the polished surface. Silently, he unlatches it and in dark with the help of the light from the moon, he can barely see the time: nearly four in the morning now. He runs a thumb over the inside cover of the watch, feeling the familiar engraving of the date. Akashi's most closely guarded secret comes in the form of the date of the trainwreck followed by the words 'DON'T FORGET' that he had carved into his watch when he first received it at the age of twelve.
He wonders if the man knew about that.