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“Tsuki-san, adjust me. Please.”
Osato’s words hung in the still air; it was as if time had stopped.
Tsuki’s throat suddenly felt dry, his chest constricted. Even though his discussion with Nango and Mitsumoto forced him to acknowledge that adjustment was a possibility, he didn’t think it would actually come to this, or maybe that’s just what he had convinced himself. Hearing the suggestion come out of his partner’s mouth was different.
“Osato! The fuck are you…”
The man before him had been released from the hand and foot restraints of the extraction machine, yet its wires stayed lodged into the back of his neck. His skin was even paler than usual, his fluffy hair a bit more disheveled, his eyes which were normally bright and full of life appeared sunken. Tsuki couldn’t imagine what they had done to him in that lab for days on end. No— he didn’t want to. Seeing Osato in this state was awful enough.
“I’m just a weak link at this point. Tsuki-san, I don’t want to cause any more trouble...” He looked downward, a hollow expression on his face, and guilt started to creep into Tsuki’s stomach. Maybe he had been too harsh on him. Memories of all the times he had told the rookie off (even though it was often justified) rolled inside his head, which only made him feel worse.
“Don’t say shit like that.” His voice cracked just barely as he tried to maintain his composure. “Just fucking stop…”
Suddenly, Osato winced, hand shooting up behind his head. “The pain in my neck— it’s becoming clearer and clearer. Please, Tsuki-san.” He stared at him with tired, begging eyes. “Put me out of my misery.”
Even though he had told his coworkers that he would adjust his partner if he found him, Tsuki knew that he would do anything to keep that from happening. Something was tethering him down, something he hadn’t dealt with before when it came to other adjustment targets. But actually standing here, being face to face with Osato… it hurt too much to see him like this.
Fuck…
Unable to meet Osato’s gaze, Tsuki exhaled. “Okay… I’ll do it.”
He felt nauseous.
Was this really the right thing to do..?
“Thank you.”
He slowly retrieved his gun, aiming it at Osato’s forehead. It hadn’t been used in ages. Despite it not being his weapon of choice, the chief insisted he keep one on him for any situations where he would need to defend himself from or make a long-ranged attack. But usually a knife did the trick; it was more precise, easier for him to wield and control, and his speed and agility meant a target’s distance wasn’t an issue. Never had to worry about keeping a knife loaded, either.
In this moment, though, his knife stayed in its sheath.
Tsuki could hear every beat of his heart drumming in his head as the setting sun casted an orange glow over the two, yet the light provided no warmth or comfort.
“Goodbye, Tsuki-san.”
He was so used to hearing these words sung gleefully at the end of a shift, a quick sendoff after a hard day’s work. This time was different, though, and his partner’s voice was anything but cheerful. This was a final, solemn farewell.
“Osato…”
Finger on the trigger.
Osato gave a faint smile, but Tsuki could tell that it was forced.
He just needed to pull it and be done with this.
He had adjusted hundreds of people before. Osato would only be another number added to that statistic, right?
In just a few seconds, he would do it, and it would all be over.
“Are you really gonna be able to accept that?”
Nango’s words echoed in his mind.
Yes, he would.
Would he..?
“Are you gonna be able to pull the trigger?”
His hands were shaking.
He could do it. He HAD to do it.
He…
He couldn’t do it.
Tsuki dropped his arms— and with them, the handgun— as he fell to his knees. He couldn’t move his legs. It felt as if his whole being was filled with static, like it was punishing him for what he had almost done.
Despite his attempts to hold himself together, his body betrayed him.
A tear fell.
Then another, and another.
“Fuck— I’m sorry. Osato, I’m sorry…” he choked out. The barrier he had been keeping up crumbled under the weight of his overwhelming regret. “I fucked this up. I fucked everything up. If I hadn’t gotten you wrapped up in all this—”
“Tsuki-san, it’s not your fault,” Osato cut him off as he let out a weak chuckle. “Despite everything that happened, I liked being your partner. It made every day a bit more interesting, you know?”
Emotion suddenly swelled up inside Tsuki as memories of all the time they spent together flashed before him. The hours spent sitting on stakeout absentmindedly rambling about whatever topics came to mind, the nights spent working late on the office computers, the long drives through the silent and empty streets of the ward. The violence, the bloodshed. Images of Osato beaming at him, laughing with him. He cursed himself for taking this all for granted.
It was always possible, likely even, for death to occur in this line of work, and even though Tsuki forced himself to be indifferent about it, he always forgot how much harder it was to deal with when it happened to someone you cared about; finding Yabukawa’s body recently served as a painful reminder of this. And even though he sometimes got annoyed with the rookie, he would be lying if he said he didn’t care about him– hell, he cared more than he could put into words. He hated himself for that. He knew better than to get attached to people.
But…
Even though it was hard for him to admit and accept, the affection he held for him was different than that of a normal coworker.
Tsuki looked up at the man in the chair before him, his eyes red with tears, vision blurry. His heart was racing. Before today, he would’ve sworn that he would bury this thought and take it with him to the grave, but the situation at hand barred him from thinking straight.
“Osato, I…”
“…I…”
His voice trailed off. He couldn’t say it.
Osato weakly moved his hand towards his partner’s face, cupping his cheek and wiping away a tear with his thumb. He shook his head slightly, wearing a pained but happy expression on his face.
“It’s okay, Tsuki-san. I already knew.”
The tears kept rolling as the two silently sat there, the only noise the sound of Tsuki’s stifled breathing and the gentle October breeze blowing through the construction site. But soon his tears stopped, and he wiped his eyes dry with the sleeve of his suit.
“We can leave this hellhole. You and me. Fuck the RA Bureau, fuck the Ward Office. I don’t give a shit if we have to keep running for the rest of our lives. There’s nothing for us here anymore. You don’t deserve to keep living like this.”
“Tsuki-san…” Though Tsuki had expected him to joyfully agree, Osato’s voice was pervaded with dejection.
“Maejima, he found a doctor who removed his tracking chip and he escaped last night. I didn’t get the doctor’s name from him, but Nango might know. He said that Maejima had brought it up with him, too. If that doesn’t work, we can use my knife and cut out the chips ourselves.”
Osato didn’t respond.
“First, I have to get you unhooked from this machine. Damn it, I have no clue how this thing works…” If Shigino was still alive, maybe he would’ve been able to help him. Then again, Tsuki severely doubted that bastard would’ve been willing to cooperate. If Osato wasn’t in his current state, he could’ve probably figured it out; he was always a lot more knowledgeable than Tsuki when it came to technology.
Maybe he was just getting old, but he had no clue how this device operated. A machine made for ‘extracting’ criminal power… how would such a thing even work? Does it take this ‘power’ from your brain, from your blood? Was it a physical ‘thing’ to be removed, or was it more of a concept? Tsuki just couldn’t wrap his head around it, but it didn’t really matter right now. The important issue was finding a way to remove the device that wouldn’t result in Osato slowly and painfully bleeding out.
“Stupid thing, I can’t figure out where the wires connect… Shit…”
As he scrambled around searching for a solution, he noticed that his partner was uncharacteristically silent, like he was deep in thought. Tsuki tried to ignore the pit in his stomach that had been growing bigger with each second that passed; Osato was never this quiet, which meant there was something on his mind.
“Maybe if I sever the wire that’s connected to the thing in your neck, I can bring you to a doctor and—“
“Tsuki-san, give me your gun.”
He froze. “Osato, what are you—“
“It’s the best solution I could think of.”
A gust of wind blew through, giving Tsuki goosebumps.
“You idiot… why the fuck would you even suggest that? If it’s supposed to be a joke, it isn’t funny.”
“I already told you that this whole messed up situation isn’t your fault, Tsuki-san. If you adjust me, you’re just gonna end up feeling guilty about it, right? So let me do it myself.”
“How I feel doesn’t mean SHIT!” he yelled, judgement clouded by anger. “I won’t let you do that to yourself. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay?”
Osato slowly shook his head, flinching slightly. “Tsuki-san… we both know that I’m not going to make it. I can’t hide from that. I’m going to die, and you’re going to live.” Inhaling sharply, he continued. “The pain is getting worse… I don’t know how much longer I can deal with it.”
Tsuki could feel the threat of tears in his eyes once again. He didn’t want to believe it, but he knew deep down there was no way that he could dislodge the wire that wouldn’t kill Osato, and if he waited for help, there was a high chance someone else would show up and adjust both of them instead. His partner was right– there was no way out of this that didn’t result in death. It was only a matter of method.
“Shit…”
He reached down for his gun that he had put away before. It felt heavier than usual, as if it was burdened by something heavier than weight itself.
Kneeling down in front of the chair again and letting out a deep breath, he handed the pistol over to Osato, who carefully took it.
He wanted to rip the gun away from Osato, to keep him from having to do this. It might’ve been what Osato wanted, but it didn’t feel like much of a choice in this situation.
“Tsuki-san… before I go, there are two things I want. Will you listen?”
“Well, I would be kind of an asshole to deny a dying man his final wishes.”
“Haha, yeah, I guess.” Osato flashed a grin which quickly faded into a more serious expression. “First, I want you to take my body and give me a proper send off. I don’t care if you have to burn it as long as the bureau never finds me. I still don’t know what exactly they need me for, but whatever it is, don’t let them have their way. Please.”
“I was gonna do that anyway. I won’t let those bastards lay a finger on you.”
“I’m glad…”
“…”
“Well, that was the important request. The other one is kinda silly.”
He paused as if he were contemplating whether or not to say it. “Tsuki-san,” Osato continued, looking away, “can you… hold my hand while I do it?”
Wordlessly, Tsuki reached forward with his right hand, putting it over Osato’s left and wrapping his fingers around it.
His partner’s hand was ice cold; he could feel him shaking.
“I’m here, Osato. I’m not gonna leave you again.” The more he thought about the situation he was in, the more guilt Tsuki felt. “Fuck… I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I tried to leave you out on
missions, I’m sorry I kept you in the dark, I’m sorry I let it ever come to this, I—“
“Tsuki-san, I already told you that this isn’t your fault. Please don’t apologize.” He squeezed his hand a little tighter.
Tsuki glanced down at his gun, which was sitting in his partner’s lap. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Pausing for a moment, Osato responded, “I don’t think I really have a choice, Tsuki-san.”
He tried to think of a retort. One last way out that wouldn't involve things coming to this. Concentrated in his thoughts, he wanted to find any other solution. Eventually, he conceded. There was no other way.
“Whenever you’re ready.” He spoke unsteadily, still hoping somehow that this whole day was all a dream he would wake up from. Maybe Nango would wake him up soon, finding him asleep in the smoke room. But the cold grasp of his partner's hand reminded him of the harsh reality of it all.
Osato looked down at the gun as he held it tightly, but he didn’t move. “…I lied to you about something.”
Tsuki raised an eyebrow. “Trying to come clean before they weigh your soul in the afterlife?”
“Oh no, it’s nothing serious, it’s just that…” he trailed off, his grip on the gun and Tsuki’s hand loosening.
“..?”
“There’s actually one more thing I want before I go.” He was no longer averting his gaze; instead, he was intently looking Tsuki in the eyes as he let go of him completely.
“It’s you, Tsuki-san…”
His hands found Tsuki’s cheek again. Gently cradling it as he closed his eyes, he leaned in slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that would hurt his neck even more.
Tsuki’s eyes widened with sudden shock at first as Osato kissed him. He could sense the slight fear and hesitation on the other’s end, but he dispelled those feelings as he reciprocated the gesture. His hands found the back of Tsuki’s head as he leaned into the kiss more.
As they pulled away, their foreheads met. Both smiled softly at each other, no words needing to be said. Just mutual understanding for what they meant to each other now sealed with one kiss.
Their first and their last.
“That line was corny as hell, by the way.”
“Sorry… I couldn’t think of anything better to say.”
Tsuki only gave a short nose exhale in response as he shook his head, though his mind quickly started to wander back to the situation at hand.
“Well, I guess this is goodbye then,” Osato said quietly as he sat back in the chair and started fidgeting. It seemed like he was making sure that the weapon was ready to be fired, but Tsuki couldn’t help but feel like he was stalling. “You know… I never really felt fear when using one of these on the field. Adjusting people felt like a second nature to me. Maybe it was a little too easy, haha. But this time…” he trailed off. “This time, I just feel kinda… scared.”
Slowly raising the gun, he put it up against the side of his head as Tsuki silently intertwined their fingers again.
“Thank you for everything, Tsuki-san.”
“Osato…” Unable to watch, Tsuki took one last glance at his partner before closing his eyes.
“I’ll wait for you in the next life,” Osato said, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “We’ll go get some Mont Blanc together.”
“Goodbye, Osato.”
A deep breath in.
A final hand squeeze.
One last tear shed.
He pulled the trigger.