Court of Law

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Kai:

There wasn't a moment in that courtroom when he hadn't had them in his sights.

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He would look to the judge seated on his right, and Takao would be in the far left of his peripheral vision. He would look to his grandfather's lawyer to his left, and Hiromi was centered in his viewing plane. Never would he gaze at his grandfather. To see that smug bastard look at him with a condescending smirk – You really think you'll be free of me, Kai? - would be worse than enduring the abbey again.

The notion of putting granddaddy dearest away was excellent in theory, but in execution, it was a slow, painstaking, emotionally re-scarring reality that Kai had to handle. Sometimes, he would feel the beatings, the flash-bang of the whippings, and the screams of the lost souls that were never seen again. Other times, he'd be in the middle of recalling some horror he'd suffered to the court and he'd feel three feet small again, and his father would be 'leaving' and there was blood. Somuchblood. He could remember the things he was told to forget.

Again, this was all done with good intentions, but it wasn't something he wanted his teammates to see. He could handle any situation to them, and to see him stutter and stumble and not have his shit together wasn't a reality they could accept. Mizuhara thought he was a god, and Kon was respectful enough not to pity him while he was actually present. That didn't mean they weren't deeply troubled over things. Kyouju would always demand a full report when they would get back as he would hang back with Daichi – not that the two of them really made him feel better being there anyway – and in the dark, Kai would lay in his bed and listen to them talk about the atrocities that no human should have to suffer much less rehash to some douchebag lawyer who was looking to make him suffer almost as much as the man he represented did.

These trials would go on from early morning until late at night with a few recesses for the jury to process and eat meals. From there, he would go home and barely sleep an hour or two, then get up and do it again. It was becoming obvious that he was emotionally and physically stressed to the limit. Spending as much time as he had in close quarters with his personal Satan, listening to the man pretend as though he had done nothing wrong, Kai was going to lose his mind. He was edgy, jumpy, he didn't want to be too far from a person he knew – knew well – and he felt like he was going to end up in a psych wing at the local hospital if things didn't wrap up soon.

After almost two weeks of torture, proceedings were wrapped up, and deliberations would begin. It was already anticipated that things would take a while, and once the doors opened and he was dismissed with the BBA's lawyers and Stanley Dickenson hot on his heels, he escaped into the men's room just outside the doors. He heard Stanley try to bar others from coming in after him, but he just couldn't stop Takao.

Smirking to himself and feeling more like himself than he had in weeks, Kai splashed water on his face. He'd been seeking closeness, but the desire not to speak about the trial had won out over the desire to be near his friends.

Kinomiya still wasn't wearing his trademark hat, as it hadn't been allowed in the courtroom, so he ran his hands through his blue locks almost nervously before letting a smile ring out across his face. Kai glanced over at him, realizing after all this time that smiles might actually be contagious, he tested a weary smirk. Takao looked even more thrilled, if it was possible.

"You fried his ass," He said at first, pumping his fist in the air. "And if you hadn't, me and 'Romi were brainstorming ways to off him."

The door screeches and she cascades into the small washroom without sound – she'd removed her heels and braved the dingy tiles in just pantyhose, the uncomfortable shoes in her hands. They'd been on since early that day, and it was now after dark. "Baka no Takao! You aren't supposed to say that kind of stuff." Her cheeks were flushed like she'd been ashamed to have been caught thinking that way, but her eyes said she had deadly intent if things went wrong. Her eyes glinted brightly of amber and ruby, happy to see him, and Kai blinked before settling his attention back on his greatest rival and self appointed best friend.

Takao rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don't care, Romi, that asshole better get what's coming to him. Fair is fair."

Scoffing, Kai turned back to the mirror feeling naked without his scarf. "Right. You're really a baka if you think that."

Kicking the ground, Takao shrugged. "Guess I can agree to that." He looked back at the team captain. "He's still going to get it. Not even his money can save him this time." He paused, looking for backup. "Right Romi?"

"Right." A crisp nod punctuated her word.

"Anyway, 'Romi-chan, what're you doing in the men's washroom? Didn't you see the sign?"

Stuffing her empty hand in her sweater pocket, she did her best not to blush. "I just wanted to check on Kai," She ground out, cheeks darkening again.

If she had followed through and made eye contact, she might have seen his dark eyes soften at her words, but she was too busy glaring at Takao, who gave her a smirk, trying to see more than she herself was ready to see. Whoever said he was dumb hadn't quite realized he was just annoying enough to learn the things he wasn't supposed to know instead of the things he NEEDED to know.

"Anyway," Takao continued, looking away from Hiromi's lethal glare, "I know for a fact that he isn't going to get away with it."

Kai didn't look convinced, and his hands shook as he contemplated the opposite. "And if he does?"

Sad smiles were exchanged by his friends, and Takao embraced him tightly. After a moment of shock – and a flinch that Takao was not thrilled about – his older friend relaxed into his hold and even wrapped his own arms around Takao's back. Men weren't supposed to cry, Hitoshi had always told him, but as Kai's form shook for a few moments against his will, Takao remembered that Hitoshi didn't know shit anyway, and gripped tighter as tears of his own – tears of sadness for his friend's stolen childhood and suffering – ran treacherously down his face.

Standing back a few paces, Hiromi's hand went to her heart, feeling their pain so vividly. Swallowing back tears, she spoke more softly. "Then we keep going."

Kai's head bolted upward, tears escaping as he blinked. "What?"

"We keep going." She held out her arms, and both boys leaned against her for a moment. "Come what may, we keep going."

A muffled knock broke the moment, and Hiromi made out Stanley's voice asking if everything was okay, that he could only keep others from the public washroom for so long. She stepped back from the boys and glanced at the door. "Take your time," She whispered to them both. "He's going to pay, Kai. Don't you worry about that."

When the judge read the jury's verdict, he made eye contact with the monster that tortured him for his entire life and smiled proudly as Takao tackled him with a hug that showed this meant far more than any one of his accomplishments up until that date.