Chapter Text
Set right after Episode 2
1: Let’s Not Overanalyze
There was a broken cup on the table when the D Agency boys awoke, just before noon, to start their day. Last night had been another late night, spent honing their skills, manipulating and mingling in crowds, coercing strangers, being the unseen hand that guided others’ actions. Maybe they’d stayed out a little later than usual, and maybe their manipulation games had been a shade or two crueler than usual, but they had to make up for missing a hara-kiri show somehow.
In any official branch of the military, staying out so late, and in turn waking so late would have been unthinkable. But D Agency recognized that night was the best time to train their particular talents and adjusted their sleep schedules accordingly. If Lt. Colonel Yuuki wanted them awake earlier, he typically gave prior notice.
Odagiri was the first to arrive at the D Agency kitchen/cafeteria, thus the first to notice the cup. He frowned at it in slight puzzlement, immediately noting the anomaly.Several facts registered instantly in his mind.
Firstly, it wasn’t a D Agency cup. All their dinnerware, while neat and serviceable, was nondescript and utilitarian. This cup was a knock off of fancy porcelain, and one that had probably been overpriced beyond that. Not the kind of thing the agency stocked.
Secondly, it wasn’t like his colleagues to leave junk lying around. They cleaned up after themselves as a rule of thumb. Organization was a major part of their lives and spread to encompass every part of their lives. From the strict organization of their minds, to their consistency in making sure every concealed weapon was in its place, every hidden tool tucked cleverly out of sight, organization ruled the spies’ lives. Not a one of them was a slob or prone to leaving his things around. If any of them had broken the cup, they would have disposed of it without delay.
Thirdly, not all the pieces of the cup were even there. The bottom of the cup was intact, mostly, but parts of the sides and all of the rim were missing and were nowhere in sight. A quick look in the cafeteria trash cans showed they were not there either.
And lastly, the cup wasn’t clean. A tacky-looking viscous substance coated the bottom and glinted with a slight sheen.
“What’s that?” asked Miyoshi, the next of the spies to saunter into the cafeteria, Jitsui and Kaminaga at his heels.
“See for yourself,” said Odagiri, instead of stating the obvious and saying that it was a broken cup, or summarizing his observations of it. Miyoshi and the other spies could gather that same information faster than Odagiri could summarize it.
Indeed, Kaminaga made a beeline for the trashcans as the other two moved in for a closer look. He signaled them with a slight shake of his head that no, there were no other pieces here.
“Why is it here?” asked Hatano, who’d come into the cafeteria in time to catch most of what was going on.
“Maybe it’s a test,” Jitsui murmured, peering into the broken cup. “What’s this residue inside?”
“It smells faintly sulfuric,” Miyoshi noted.
“Could it have been used to mix small quantities of explosives?” Kaminaga wondered and started to reach for it. Then he stopped himself just before Miyoshi seized his wrist to stop him.
“Fingerprints,” said Miyoshi sternly.
Kaminaga quickly withdrew his hand, nodding.
If this was a test from Lt. Colonel Yuuki, none of them wanted to be responsible for them all failing.
“Here. Gloves.” Tazaki appeared from out of nowhere, like a magician, and produced a pair of supple, brown leather gloves.
Miyoshi accepted them with a nod of thanks. “Jitsui, check under the table. Make sure nothing’s rigged beneath it. Fukumoto, fetch a swab and the fingerprinting kit. Amari, get some string, a ring, and adhesive.”
“We’re airlifting it? Really?” Amari asked in mild disbelief.
“Do you want to risk failing one of the Demon Lord’s tests?” returned Miyoshi.
“Fair point.”
The spies hastened to obey their defacto leader’s orders.
“Nothing under the table,” Jitsui reported. “No drill marks either. If it’s connected to any explosives, they’re small enough to fit under the bottom of the cup.”
“That’s plenty of room for compounds made to just make smoke or noise,” said Miyoshi.
“True. Lt. Colonel Yuuki wouldn’t want us accidently burning down D Agency,” said Jitsui with a smile.
“String, ring, and adhesive.” Amari had returned. He passed said items to Miyoshi who held up a hand to stop him from handing them off.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
Amari looked more amused than anything, but complied. He tore off a couple strips of tape then climbed onto a chair, and used them to affix the ring to the ceiling. Then he threaded one end of the string through it and passed it down to Miyoshi. Miyoshi put on Tazaki’s gloves and then carefully tied the string around the broken cup.
“Everyone back,” said Kaminaga, who’d taken it upon himself to grab the other end of the string. Everyone stepped clear of the table and the broken cup. Hatano and Jitsui even hopped behind the counter and peeked cautiously over it. If there was anything under the cup, no one wanted to get any trace of it on his suit. That would mark failure in Yuuki’s books and they all knew it.
Then there was a creak of footsteps from the hallway.
“What are you all doing?” asked Sakuma in a long suffering voice, that said he was pretty sure he didn’t want to know the answer.
“Good morning, lieutenant,” said Miyoshi. “If you wouldn’t mind standing back for a moment.”
“What? Why?” Sakuma instantly looked suspicious. After yesterday’s events, none of them could really blame him. They had, after all, almost coerced him into committing hara-kiri, and for nothing more than Miyoshi’s own amusement. And to send a message to Muto and those other idiots at the General Staff Offices, but that would have just been an added bonus.
“Please, just stay back,” said Miyoshi, coolly taking Sakuma by the wrist and pulling him back to the doorway. “Kaminaga, if you please.”
Kaminaga pulled on the opposite end of the string. And because of the rudimentary pulley system they’d jerry-rigged, the cup rose straight off the table and into the air.
Every spy in the room had tensed in preparation of a loud bang, or small explosion. It would be a lie to say they weren’t disappointed when nothing happened. The cup simply rose in the air, suspended by the string, and dangled in place.
“Anti-climactic,” huffed Hatano, stepping out from behind the counter.
“Better to be overcautious than to have to suffer the Demon Lord’s punishments,” said Jitsui.
“What are you all even talking about?” Sakuma asked. “What are you doing to that cup?”
Miyoshi stepped forward to grab the cup and untie it. Fukumoto stepped forward to dab the swab he’d brought inside, and handed off the fingerprinting kit he’d brought to the shorter spy. Miyoshi set the cup back down on the table and opened the kit.
“You’re fingerprinting it? And testing the contents?” asked Sakuma, and suddenly he sounded like he was holding back laughter. “Why don’t you let me save you the trouble? The last thing that cup held was a raw egg. Colonel Muto uses that as a hangover cure. His fingerprints will be the main ones you find on there. And a few of mine. I picked it up on the way out of his office this morning, after reporting the success of yesterday’s operation.”
Silence filled the kitchen as every spy’s eyes focused on Sakuma. The lieutenant shifted, clearly a little uncomfortable under so many intense stares.
“The colonel became flustered and dropped it – as well as every other object on and around his desk,” said Sakuma.
And every spy mentally translated that to mean the colonel had lost it and started throwing and breaking everything in reach, after Sakuma reported the successful raid on John Gordon’s house. Sly smiles began spreading across their faces.
Then Hatano had to ask, “But why’d you bring it here?”
Something almost like a smirk crossed Sakuma’s face very briefly. “As a consolation prize, for missing the show.”
“Oh? Which one?” Hatano quipped.
“Dealer’s choice,” returned the lieutenant.
Amusement lit everyones’ faces. Miyoshi especially looked as though he’d just been given a New Year’s gift early. Their liaison was turning out to be, or at least turning into, someone much less insufferable, and much more entertaining than they’d ever thought he’d be.
Notes:
Did Sakuma bring them the cup to flaunt getting out of their plans for his hara-kiri? Or as a trophy/goodwill gesture, so they could vicariously appreciate Colonel Muto’s tantrum? What do you think?
More importantly, is Miyoshi subtly flirting with the lieutenant? And do the others suspect?