Work Text:
Quiet.
It is too quiet.
When they rise, each at their own time, they have the same thought.
It is too quiet.
Quiet.
This is not to imply that Miyoshi was particularly loud, but in a world cloaked in silence, even the disappearance of a heartbeat is blaring.
-
Fukumoto wakes first and wanders downstairs to start preparing breakfast. Usually, no one is up at the same time as him. Today is no different, but he finds Kaminaga snoring at the kitchen table, mouth wide open and head tossed back. For a moment, Fukumoto wonders what he’s doing down here instead of his room, but he decides to ignore it. It takes a lot of time to make breakfast for seven men.
- Six other men, he corrects himself.
Hm.
Miyoshi had always liked salmon with his omelette. Everyone else teased him for being so blatantly white collar, teased Fukumoto for always getting him the salmon he wanted. He’d bought some the other day to celebrate the other spy’s return. Fukumoto looks in the fridge and frowns. What to do with it now? He considers giving it to one of the cats that wander around, but he knows that Miyoshi hates cats - that Miyoshi hated cats - and feels he’d be doing him an injustice.
He closes the fridge, for now.
-
When Hatano comes downstairs, he looks confused. Small things can put big things into perspective.
He knows all the sounds of the D-Agency, and the sounds of Fukumoto making breakfast are imperative. He likes to know what’s in store before he enters the kitchen. Pots and pans are normal, regardless. Refrigerator opening, normal, regardless. Eggs cracking - this is omelette territory.
He is excited and halfway down the stairs before he starts doubting himself. After egg cracking there should be stirring, followed by the searing of the pan, followed by -
The sound of a can opening. Salmon.
Miyoshi always liked salmon in his omelette. Fukumoto always made his first.
The sound is missing, and for a moment, he can’t understand why - Miyoshi was supposed to return last night. But then, he remembers.
Ah, right.
Hatano enters the kitchen, sees the bleary-eyed Kaminaga, and looks to Fukumoto.
He raises his hand, calling for the tall man’s attention.
“Fukumoto-san, put salmon in mine today, alright?”
-
When Jitsui went to sleep the night before, things did not feel strange - after all, how many times had he gone to bed before Miyoshi even returned to the agency? Miyoshi usually was the last to bed, and one of the last to wake. When Jitsui went to sleep the night before, things did not feel strange.
But when he wakes up, early as usual, he stretches, yawns silently, and looks to his left, it settles in.
His immediate thought is pride and bewilderment that Miyoshi has not only woken up before him, but gotten up and made his bed without waking him. But then he recalls that Miyoshi has been on mission for a long time now. He recalls that Miyoshi is not returning.
Jitsui pauses for a moment, still staring at the perfectly made bedding. He turns on the desk lamp, turns away from the empty bed, and opens a book.
-
Amari wakes up with Emma pressed close to him, snoring softly. The day before, when the news was delivered, he froze. Miyoshi, who was always the one to suggest they go out for dinner, or visit a dance hall, Miyoshi who hadn’t smoked much since Emma had moved in, Miyoshi who seemingly never got tired of playing pat-a-cake with her, was still gone.
He had been looking forward to being the one to suggest going out for a night. Hatano had agreed to look after Emma and he’d picked the place and everything. Last night should have been fun. Last night, he told Emma that Miyoshi would not be coming back.
He’d tried to be gentle with her as he explained the situation. He’d thought of all the flowery ways he could tell her, but she’d stopped him.
“Miyoshi-san won’t be coming back.”
“Oh? He’s gone?”
Amari had stared blankly at her, then nodded slowly.
“Oh.” She frowned and looked to her feet. “It’s okay. He’s just like mommy and daddy, too.”
She paused, and he hadn’t know what to say.
Emma looked back up to him and smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll miss him.”
And Amari had just nodded, patting her head as he remained crouched next to her. “Ah, me too, dear.”
That morning, Amari wakes up with Emma pressed close to him. He wraps his arms around her and tries to muster the same resolve that she’s already attained.
-
For Odagiri, it is genuinely too quiet. Mornings are always filled with Jitsui and Miyoshi busily chattering in their room, Miyoshi laughing a bit too loud, a crash from Jitsui throwing something at him, and Odagiri wakes up to pound on the wall between them.
When Miyoshi isn’t around, Jitsui hums and sings instead and as though on cue, Odagiri is awoken abruptly by the lack of noise. The sun is up, so Jitsui is definitely awake, and the silence is deafening.
He can hear the distant sounds of Fukumoto making breakfast, occasionally talking to Hatano, sounds that are usually drowned out by some commotion next door.
When Odagiri would bang on the wall, Jitsui would knock lightly in apology. Miyoshi would either laugh louder, or pound back more aggressively, occasionally muttering profanities or snarky lines about him “needing to wake up anyway”.
Jitsui has never been this quiet, and silence, Odagiri feels, is reserved for him only. This quiet is different. This quiet is empty, and this quiet is chilling.
-
The night before, Tazaki had not slept. He’d sat around in his room all night - for a moment sitting on his own bed, then Kaminaga’s, then the floor for hours on end. Kaminaga had told him not to wait up for him, but he’d done it anyway.
Had it been up to him, he would’ve stayed in the kitchen with him all night, but Tazaki can tell when Kaminaga is slightly irritated or seething, and last night he’d been boiling. Long after everyone else had gone to bed, Kaminaga was still planted at the kitchen table with an unlit cigarette between his lips. Tazaki had sat across from him, trying not to look at him too often.
Twice, Tazaki had tried to approach the topic. The first attempt started with,
“Kaminaga, listen… I know, this is -”
And Kaminaga had glared at him, stared daggers into him, and just grunted. Tazaki was quiet, but held his gaze. Even when Kaminaga looked away, Tazaki continued to watch him, every little fidget or sound he made.
After the anger, he’d taken to sighing. It was clearly unintentional, almost catching Kaminaga by surprise every time he released another one, but they would not stop. Tazaki had folded his hands on the table, listening. At first, they sounded annoyed, groans and moans of frustration. They melted into faint whines, accompanied by the loss of the cigarette. Tazaki’s second attempt came once they morphed into something quieter, something softer.
“I’m right here, you know?”
“I know.” Kaminaga had muttered.
“Do you want to -”
“No.” Kaminaga shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
And they went back to silence.
After another couple of hours, Kaminaga’s sighing had subsided and he was hunched over the kitchen table with his hands balled in his lap.
“Tazaki, go to bed.”
“Hm? I’m fine here.”
Kaminaga screwed his eyes shut. “Tazaki, you’re hovering over me. I am grateful, but I don’t need this from you.”
“I know.” Tazaki had muttered.
“Don’t worry.” Kaminaga had murmured. “I’ll talk to you when I’m ready. Don’t wait up for me.”
And for a moment, Tazaki continued watching him. But he knew better than to press him any further, silently or not. Quietly, he stood and walked upstairs to their room.
Tazaki had not slept.
-
If it had been up to him, Kaminaga would have stayed awake as well. Staying awake meant dedication, and emotional unrest. He’d felt the sleep rushing over him as soon as Tazaki left. He didn’t remember ever losing consciousness.
He wakes up to Fukumoto pulling a pan from the cupboard.
“Sorry to wake you.” Fukumoto mumbles. “I’m making omelettes.”
“Mm.” Kaminaga mutters and wipes his eyes. He wishes he had stayed awake.
“Down here all night?” The other man asks from behind the counter as he pulls out the eggs.
“Mm.” Kaminaga repeats, changing his intonation slightly.
“Ah, but you slept.”
“Mhm.”
Fukumoto nods, reaching over to light the stove. “That’s good.”
Kaminaga turns to look at him, unsure of what he means by that.
Fukumoto’s attention is completely on the food he’s preparing for the time being, but soon enough he follows his previous statement. “We all need to rest sometime, you know.”
Obviously. Kaminaga thinks. He remains quiet.
“You weren’t sleeping as much these last couple days.” Fukumoto says, blankly.
Kaminaga nods slowly, slightly surprised that Fukumoto would even notice.
“You were looking forward to seeing him.”
Kaminaga is silent for a long time. Fukumoto doesn’t speak again. Kaminaga does instead.
“We play a game to see who comes back with the most interesting story. I was excited to hear if he’d top mine. Before he left, I told him, 'held hostage by British spies and lived to tell the tale. Try to one up that one'.” Kaminaga sighs. “At the very least, couldn't he have…”
Fukumoto doesn’t look up as he prepares the egg. “Hm?”
“At least he could've died doing something. He wasn't even - he was just - he was going back. It was an accident. Not an attack, not an ambush, it was…. An accident.”
“Mhm.” Fukumoto agrees, wordlessly.
“He could've done better. He should've done better. He -” Kaminaga paused, grimaces. “He deserved better.”
Fukumoto shrugs. “He completed his mission. As a spy, perhaps…” He drifts off.
Kaminaga narrows his eyes before looking away, facing the table again. Hatano enters the room moments later.
“Fukumoto-san, put salmon in mine today, alright?”
Kaminaga is rigid for a moment. He looks over at Hatano who has his hand still raised and is looking at him with some sort of vigor in his eyes. Kaminaga turns to Fukumoto, who is only just waving to Hatano.
“Me too, Fukumoto-san! I’ll take some too.”
Fukumoto nods, opens the fridge again, and digs out the can.
-
Tazaki is the last one down for breakfast, looking utterly exhausted. Everyone else is already stuffing their faces. The conversation at the table is upbeat as always, and Emma’s high pitched laughter fills the room.
Kaminaga is the first to see him. “Hey, Tazaki! Fukumoto-san made omelettes!”
His smile puts Tazaki somewhat at ease. Kaminaga does not look so drained as he did last night.
“Get salmon in yours, everyone else did!” Kaminaga yells.
Tazaki cringes. No one likes salmon in their omelettes, no one but -
“Fukumoto-san,” Tazaki shouts almost instantly. “Can I have salmon in mine too?”
“Sorry, we’re all out.” Fukumoto shrugs from where he is leaning against the island. “I only bought one can, after all.”
“Seriously?” Tazaki groans, frustrated.
Kaminaga laughs. “Don’t sweat it, you can have some of mine. Give me half of yours.”
“Somehow I think that doesn’t equal out.” Hatano comments, digging his chopsticks into Amari’s omelette and feeding Emma another bite.
“That doesn’t equal out.” Tazaki agrees and accepts the omelette that Fukumoto hands him before sitting next to Kaminaga at the table. “But I’ll take you up on it.”
They all eat until they are full, and they sit back, slightly relaxed.
Kaminaga groans.
“Salmon is really gross, huh?”
And all of the other agents nod, laughing and feeling as though Miyoshi has played one last joke on them.