Work Text:
The invite came not as a phone call, nor in a face-to-face meeting. It came as two tickets and a post-it note left on top of a case file.
A Division get-together, organized by Murakoso and—more reluctantly, if his sloppy handwriting was anything to go by—Aoki.
Tsujimura blinked blearily at the note in front of her, rubbing at the lines in her cheek that had been pressed there by sleep. Her desk wasn’t the most comfortable pillow.
If she went, it would be the first recreational work event she attended since she’d been hired as an agent. Understandably, it wasn’t something a secret government bureau arranged very often. Because of this, she had no idea how to proceed.
What should she wear? What was appropriate to bring with her? Better yet, who?
She couldn’t think of anyone she could drag along without compromising her identity to them. She wasn’t close enough, didn’t spend enough time or share enough secrets with her friends from her personal life to invite them to her place of work. It would have to be someone she knew from her job, which was a problem. Aside from Sakaguchi—who would certainly already be there—and the two who had invited her, her options were limited.
Tossing the case file to one side, she inspected the note more closely. There was a location written near the bottom. Typing the address into the search bar on her laptop, she barely suppressed a gasp.
It would be shameful to show up alone after she’d been given two tickets to such an expensive venue. The gathering was to take place at a manor on the outskirts of the city, remote and low-profile, the ideal setting for people in a confidential workforce to meet. Booking it had probably cost the higher-ups her yearly salary several times over.
She ran a hand through her hair, trying to tame the disheveled strands. She cursed herself for becoming so much of a recluse in recent years. Back in college, before the Division and before her mother had died, she would’ve had an array of numbers in her phone that she could call for an evening out. But now…
There was only one person she could think of that both knew her identity and most definitely hadn’t been given an invite. Who would be embarrassing to show up with, but who would at least make sure the event wasn’t a complete snobby drag.
Tsujimura shook her head, scolding herself. She’d have to be crazy to consider that person.
“I’d rather you just shoot me. Go ahead, give the order.”
“Sensei,” Tsujimura pleaded, standing pitifully in the doorway to the Ayatsuji Detective Agency. “Please. Maybe, in return, I can convince the higher-ups to go easy on some of your restrictions? You’d be doing me a huge favor.”
Ayatsuji sighed so heavily, the smoke of his pipe fluttered with his breath. “Why would a workplace like yours”—his face scrunched up with disgust—“host parties? A tad out of touch, don’t you think? Do you dance around all the corpses you’ve left?”
Tsujimura pursed her lips. Look who’s talking, she almost retorted, but lashing out at the man she was currently trying to convince wouldn't be her brightest idea.
“Team building is especially important in a job like mine,” she huffed. “I mean, think about it. Things would be much harder if you and I didn’t get along.”
“You have a unique perspective of ‘getting along’.”
“You know what I mean. Besides, don’t you love getting a rise out of me and my coworkers? You’ll have more than enough opportunities to do that.”
Ayatsuji drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. “I suspect that will result in a bullet to the head, if I as an A-grade criminal walk into a secret government meeting to cause trouble. Despite what you may think of me, I’m not that desperate to die.”
Painful memories flashed through Tsujimura’s mind. The sound of running water, a fond smile, her legs burning from running fast as they could, but not fast enough—
“I won’t let that happen,” she assured. “I mean it, this time. And if you don’t come with me, they’ll have to send a substitute supervisor to watch over you for the rest of the day. Is that what you want?”
From the look on Ayatsuji’s face, that was absolutely not what he wanted. Sporting a victorious grin, Tsujimura whipped out her phone and shot off a quick text to Sakaguchi. An RSVP, though he would most likely interpret it as a warning. She wouldn’t blame him if he did.
Ayatsuji raised his mug and took a long, exasperated slurp of his coffee.
“Sometimes, I wonder if I have Stockholm syndrome.”
One glance at Ayatsuji informed Tsujimura that it was taking him Herculean effort to not let his lip curl. He noticed her attention, and continued, “A fabricated condition, by the way. No scientific basis. Quite like the iced latte addiction you claim to have.”
“What? That’s totally real! My hands get shaky!”
“Not according to the definition of addiction. Caffeine doesn’t activate the mesolimbic pathway, you need dopamine synthesis on those nerves to become addicted.”
“There’s definitely something on my nerves right now,” Tsujimura said under her breath.
The manor was even bigger on the inside than she’d anticipated. Fancier, too. She was glad she’d had the foresight to pull out one of her mother’s old gowns out where it had been buried at the back of her closet. It was a little big around the hips, but it flattered her shoulders, and its deep blue color complemented her eyes. She forced herself to push back the complicated feelings she experienced whenever she caught sight of her reflection.
Ayatsuji was dressed in the exact same clothing as he had been that morning. She didn’t know why she’d expected him to have the common sense to doll himself up, but she supposed his presence here would’ve caused a stir regardless of how he looked.
They followed a roll of plush carpet up a staircase until they were greeted with the main lobby. Everything was warm tones and glittering surfaces. Tsujimura struggled to tear her eyes away from the chandelier dangling from the ceiling.
Soon after they entered, Sakaguchi approached. He looked like death warmed over.
“I’m glad you could make it, Tsujimura-kun,” he said. “Although, your choice of company gave me another all-nighter of paperwork.”
He didn’t seem as if he would survive any more sleep deprivation. Tsujimura winced.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “None of my non-work friends were able to come.”
“Isn’t being a social reject the normal secret agent experience?” Ayatsuji butted in. “It was presumptuous to give you two tickets.”
He already had the lip of his pipe between his teeth in spite of the ‘No Smoking’ sign behind them. Sakaguchi appeared to grow more exhausted, if that were possible.
“That’s what I thought!” Tsujimura exclaimed before she could stop herself. “Uhm, I mean… I appreciate the work-life balance you allow me, senpai.”
Sakaguchi adjusted the frame of his glasses before addressing her. “Just… avoid introducing him to anyone too senior if you can. I don’t want to imagine the orders I’ll be getting next week if he insults another department’s representative.” He turned back to Ayatsuji. “Apologies, sensei, but you must understand.”
Ayatsuji waved a hand. “The citizens of Tokyo would be lost without your careful judgment.”
Sakaguchi nodded his goodbye and left them somewhat awkwardly. Tsujimura found that she no longer remembered how to behave at a party. The atmosphere was different to the house ones she’d suffered through at college. She looked to Ayatsuji for help.
He was surveying the hall like a hunter searching for its prey. Or rather, for someone in particular. He must not have seen them, as he met Tsujimura’s gaze afterward with a less guarded expression.
He crooked a brow at her staring. “I can stay put if you need some time to run around and play.”
“I’m not a child,” she hissed. “I’m more concerned about you causing a scene.”
“To be honest, I’d rather be stuck in another locked room with that fossil Kyougoku than endure small talk with anyone you work with, so you can stop worrying.”
“That’s a good point,” Tsujimura began. “Isn’t he here with us now?”
“No, thank the heavens. I promised him that if he didn’t bother me for the evening, I’d indulge his silly little games tomorrow.”
Tsujimura didn’t even want to know what Ayatsuji must have agreed to to secure Kyougoku’s silence. She suspected it was something far darker and more evil than what he liked to put her through, and that was saying a lot.
“So…” She fiddled with her gloves. They were long and silky, and matched her dress. “…I’ll get us drinks.”
Leaving Ayatsuji to his own devices was a dangerous game, but she was starting to feel overwhelmed after only a few minutes. She beelined it to the bar and ordered a large of the first beer her eyes landed on.
The bartender seemed to pour it so slowly. She watched every movement of his hand with desperation.
Her alcohol tolerance wasn’t the best, but she was itching to unwind. If anything happened tonight between Ayatsuji and the Division, it would reflect poorly on her. Why on earth had she decided to bring him, again?
She heard the long-awaited clink of her glass being set against the bar. Grabbing it in a split-second, she threw it back.
She’d barely swallowed one mouthful when someone spoke.
“Haven’t seen you at one of these parties before.”
Tsujimura turned. There was a man around her age, leaning against the bar, watching her. He wore a fitted suit and expensive-looking cufflinks.
She chuckled, sucking in a breath. “Ah, yeah. This is my first. I’m new to all of this.”
He gave her a smile that she couldn’t read the intentions of. “That’s all right. Are you here by yourself?”
She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see Ayatsuji was still in his spot by the wall and not setting the place alight. “No, I…”
The man followed her gaze, and let out a low whistle.
“That friend of yours… he must not be very smart if he’s left you here all alone.”
Friend? Tsujimura had never referred to Ayatsuji as her friend before, mentally or otherwise. She tilted her head, frowning. “He’s my partner, and I’m more than capable of looking after myself. I suggest you stay away from him unless you want trouble.”
She’d thought it was pretty good advice—it was in anyone’s best interest not to get caught up in any kind of situation with Ayatsuji. But the man in front of her scoffed in disbelief.
“Oh, and he’s actually the smartest person I know. It’s kind of infuriating,” she added.
The man’s face twisted with revulsion. Tsujimura regarded him for a moment, and then was hit with a horrifying thought. What if this man was one of the agents trying to put through the execution orders against Ayatsuji?
She straightened up. How was she supposed to deal with a situation like that? She racked her brain. The best thing to do would be to let everyone know that Ayatsuji was reliable, and he had a good heart. He wasn’t the inhuman threat everybody saw him as.
“He’s also—”
She wasn’t given the chance to continue. The man made a dismissive gesture and turned on his heel, storming away from her with far too much annoyance than the circumstances called for.
Confused, she watched him leave and made no attempt to stop him. What the hell was that about?
Turning back to the bar, she shrugged it off and went for another swig of her beer.
Again, she was interrupted. Fingers tugged at her sleeve. She flinched. Speak of the devil, there Ayatsuji was, pulling on her arm like a lost child.
“I leave you alone for thirty seconds…”
“Sensei! You surprised me.”
“I didn’t realize you had that kind of interest.” She wondered if he had just bitten into a lemon, given how hard he was grimacing. “I suppose I’ve been naïve not to consider it.”
“Interest?” Tsujimura blinked. Ayatsuji glared over her shoulder, and she connected the dots. “You mean that guy? If anything, he was interested in you. I was worried he was one of the agents who voted in favor of your kill order, so I told him you were my partner and he backed off.”
His eyes darted from her to the retreating back of the agent.
He studied her thoughtfully. “It must be so peaceful in your mind. A beautiful empty expanse.”
“What is that supposed to mean?!”
He didn’t answer. Whatever the reason, he seemed pleased. “As thanks, I’ll be sure to let everyone here know you’re my jailer.”
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t say jailer, to be clear—”
“Hmm. I think I’ll start with that group of people.” He pointed at a few standing nearby. Murakoso and Aoki were among them, and the hairs at the nape of Tsujimura’s neck stood on end.
She laughed a little too loud and strained. “Ha-ha, you’re too funny, Sensei! How about we step out and get some air?”
“I’d rather not.”
Grabbing him by the collar, she spoke her next words through gritted teeth. “You’re coming with me, that’s an order.”
He held up his hands in surrender, and she marched him towards the lobby’s side doors, leaving her beer abandoned.
As they walked past, Murakoso spotted them and jeered something Tsujimura was grateful not to have made out. Ayatsuji’s eye twitched in response.
They stepped outside onto a balcony overlooking the city. The moment the door closed, the indoor chatter became muted, and they were enveloped in their own world.
Tsujimura breathed out, slumping against the railing. “I have no idea why I agreed to come here.”
“Because you’re the government’s favorite little suck-up?”
“I am not!”
Ayatsuji raised both brows. He pitched his voice up, making it sound girlish. “I appreciate the work-life balance you give me, Sakaguchi-senpai…”
With a growl, her leg shot out, kicking at his shin. He grunted, grabbing at the railing for support. “Are you wearing those steel-toed heels again?”
Tsujimura beamed, all teeth. “Nope! You just inspire a certain level of strength in me.”
He snorted and looked away. They lapsed into silence, the crisp air in Tsujimura’s lungs easing some of the queasiness she’d felt from that stuffy room. She watched the leaves of a nearby tree as they were jostled by wind.
It was surprisingly peaceful, standing with Ayatsuji under the moon. He was familiar enough for her to be at ease, and his presence quelled the loneliness that would otherwise overtake her in such environments. She enjoyed being around him, so long as he kept his mouth shut.
As if sensing her train of thought, Ayatsuji broke the quiet. “I guess I should thank you for taking me out of my kennel for a walk, even if it was to stand in a room with the most insufferable people this world has to offer.”
“You’re welcome,” Tsujimura muttered, folding her arms. For some reason, she was frustrated. Ayatsuji had been suspiciously well-behaved tonight, keeping to himself aside from bothering her.
Did she want him to do something drastic? She asked herself what the hell she was thinking.
They stood side by side, gazing out at the city lights, watching the tiny cars as they travelled down busy streets.
“Say, sensei,” she started, but as she moved to face him, he was already facing her. It made her jolt a little with surprise. Why was she so jumpy today? She changed her course. “W-what’s wrong?”
His fingers curled around the railing. He broke eye contact, fixing his attention on the plant pots lining the edge of the balcony. His hair was tousled from the night breeze.
“You’re…” he began in his usual mocking tone, and then scowled, dropping it. “Your ‘non-work friends’…”
“Oh,” Tsujimura fidgeted, rolling her heel against the tile. “I was lying when I said that. It’s embarrassing, so don’t make fun of me, but I don’t really have any, anymore. We drifted apart.”
Ayatsuji was silent, analytical. It was disconcerting, and it prompted her to keep on rambling.
“And that’s just my friends! I haven’t been on a date since I was a first-year. What a loser, right? The complete opposite of those spies from the movies. I’ll have to tell everyone I’m married to my job.”
Her voice rang conspicuously in the quiet, and she clammed up. She’d said too much. Ayatsuji hated meaningless small talk, how could she forget? And yet here she was, chattering away.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “That beer must’ve been stronger than I thought.”
“It’s… fine,” Ayatsuji said slowly, experimentally. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Expected. And by your description, I’m married to my job, too.”
“I think it only applies if you love your job,” she remarked, bitter. “Not if you’re coerced into doing it.”
He didn’t respond. She couldn’t decipher his expression. Out of nowhere, the atmosphere seemed to have changed. She played with one of her bangs between her forefinger and thumb.
Eventually, he spoke. “It has its highlights.”
There was something about that admission that shocked her, tearing through her foundations. Ayatsuji seemed different on this balcony, standing under the night sky. He was exposed, and his current behavior reflected that.
It was… scary. It didn’t feel right. She didn’t like the sudden vulnerability, and from the way Ayatsuji kept shifting his weight, he didn’t either.
She looked at his gloved hands, wrapped around the bar of the railing, and was hit with an urge. An urge that made her ears burn red, and made her bite down hard on her tongue. She had absolutely, with no uncertainty, gone insane.
“We should head back inside!” she blurted, too chipper to be natural. “You know, before anyone starts to wonder what we’re up to.”
She almost shoved a fist in her own mouth. Why the hell had she said that?! With that suggestive wording?!
“Sorry, I mean— sorry! I’ll stop talking now.” She began to speedwalk back to the balcony doors. Before she could get there, Ayatsuji intercepted her.
“Tsujimura-kun,” he murmured, an ominous underlayer to his voice.
Tsujimura gulped. Was he offended? She’d really gone and done it now.
Then, the corner of his mouth quirked upward with repressed mirth, and the spell they’d been under was broken. “Are you finished hitting on me? I’m disappointed.”
“Wh—!” Tsujimura spluttered, face blooming with color. “Like hell I was! See if I open up to you again, you jerk!”
Ayatsuji huffed a laugh, but as he walked past her to re-enter the venue, his palm caught the curve of her wrist, pulling her behind him. Something whirred to life inside Tsujimura’s ribcage.
She half-expected him to rejoin the party, but that was a foolish thought. He took one look at the mingling crowds and steered them straight for the main exit, not letting go of her for one moment. She made eye contact with Sakaguchi on their way out and gave him an apologetic smile. His sigh was visible from twenty meters away.
“Sensei, wait,” she protested as they reached the foyer. “I know you like a dramatic exit, but you’re gonna get me fired.”
“Oh, how tragic.” His pace didn't slow.
Her insides twisted. She couldn’t be seen like this, leaving a company party early with a man who was effectively her subordinate. It was scandalous. She would be painted as someone improper, who took advantage of the people who she was assigned to watch over.
But no, it was more than that. The thought of ever being seen as someone who would flippantly use Ayatsuji for her own gain…
She had to stop him. No matter the cost.
“You were right!” she near-shouted, tugging back against his grip.
“I often am.”
“No, I mean, that joke you made on the balcony. I… I wanted to…”
Ayatsuji paused. His hand on the outer door fell, and it clicked shut. He didn’t turn around, didn’t speak. Just left a gap for her to fill.
She didn’t know how to fill it. So instead, she followed through on her past intention. Where his hand met her wrist, she slid her arm up. The tips of their fingers pressed together.
They were both wearing gloves. That didn’t mean she felt the contact any less.
His hands weren't warm—they hadn’t been since their little escapade on the cold balcony. But now, it was as if she had dipped her fingers into lava.
“Ayatsuji-sensei,” she said softly. “Don’t be mad, okay? It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’ll stop working as your assistant if that will make things easier.”
He spun around, and the face he was pulling could only be described as defeated. His hand that was touching hers dropped to his side. He stared at her, standing there in her deep blue dress that brought out her features too painfully, and ached.
“I didn’t think you were one to break a promise,” he said after a while. He sounded near spiteful. “You agreed to stick by me, as partners.”
Tsujimura’s face fell. “Of course, but I don’t want you to hate me. Not truly.”
His jaw clenched. He closed his eyes for a short time to compose himself. When he opened them, his gaze was impossible to avoid.
“Idiot,” he snapped. “After everything I did to keep you around, to save you, you still believe that’s possible?”
Her breath hitched at what he was implying. “...I thought that was just your plan to lure out Kyougoku. That, you and senpai were simply…”
She had seen Ayatsuji’s irritation on many occasions, but never like this. His eyes held so much emotion. Anger, despair, fear? All bursting at the seams, making cracks in walls he was desperately trying to keep up.
One of his feet was turned away as if he was resisting the urge to run.
In a flash, he seemed to make a decision. He strode towards her, closing the small distance between them. He leaned down, hand cupping her jaw, and kissed her like he was making a statement.
Ayatsuji had never been a person Tsujimura would call passionate. The only time she saw him showing any kind of enthusiasm was when he became invested in one of Kyougoku’s cold cases.
But this… there was no other way to explain it.
She had never been so overwhelmed by him. Not when they argued, not when she’d watched him fake his death. In a strange twist of reason, it made her want to sob. His glasses were pressing into her nose so fiercely it hurt, and he tasted of tobacco. She curled her fingers into his lapels, having nowhere else to channel her rushing adrenaline.
The kiss was hard but brief. He pulled back, moving an entire step away, and inhaled sharply as though he couldn’t believe his own actions. He coughed on the subsequent exhale.
“…I hope I’ve made myself clear.”
Tsujimura had a trillion things to say, but no means to articulate any of them. She balled one of her now free hands into a fist, and let it drop light as a feather against his chest.
A feeble punch. Her close combat instructor would be ashamed.
He didn’t dodge it. He was a total enigma to her. “And don’t go thinking you’re off the hook about anything else. I know you managed to weasel your way out of training the last time I mentioned it.”
Tsujimura froze, the bright color draining from her face. “You remember that?”
“I’m more concerned that you think I’d forget. If you’re so eager to stay at this intolerable party, I should tell you now that you’ll be expected in the office tomorrow, 5am sharp. Don’t be late.”
With that, he turned the doorknob, slipping out into the night, the door slamming behind him. Tsujimura stood there, still hanging onto the empty space he had occupied.
She made her way back to the main lobby in a daze. The carved marble mantles and polished floors that had gripped her before seemed unremarkable now, as nondescript as a room she’d been in a hundred times before. And the path from the foyer to the lobby seemed to stretch forever. Without Ayatsuji making snide comments in her ear, the world was less exciting.
She reached the grand double doors. Right before she entered, they were opened by Sakaguchi.
“Tsujimura-kun,” he said.
He looked behind her, shocked to see that Ayatsuji wasn't there.
Tsujimura answered his question before it was asked. “He, uh, wanted some time alone.”
He didn’t let that answer slide as she expected. He was, after all, her superior. “Please don’t tell me you let a dangerous ability user disappear off into the night.”
A spike of panic raced through her. Sweat pooled on her forehead. “No way! In fact, I’ll go and find him right now!”
She darted off before he had the chance to scold her further. Tearing down the stairs, her high heels were no obstacle. The sole thought on her mind was Ayatsuji.
She threw open the exit doors, stepping out into the dark. She ran into the road, looking left and right. There, in the distance, she spotted a familiar silhouette.
For a brief moment, she took in the sight. Revelled in the shape of him. Prepared herself to keep seeing that shape for as long as he allowed her to, and hoped for it to be as long as she was able.
It took more time than it should’ve for common sense to catch up with her.
She broke into a sprint. “Hey— sensei, wait! I have to escort you to and from the office, you know!”