Hinata's phone rings. Surprised, he starts, almost knocking over Kageyama's mug.
Dodging the pillow that Kageyama throws at his head, Hinata answers the caller with an excited 'Hello!'.
"Oh, it's Tanaka?"
Kageyama watches with a faint horror as Hinata becomes increasingly animated, bouncing around and tripping over the stacks of documents he'd carefully arranged on the floor the night before.
When Hinata's head collided with the door frame, Kageyama decides there and then that that is absolutely the last straw.
"Hinata! Come here!"
"Sit down!"
"Don't move!"
Hinata stays cowering beneath a terrifying Kageyama, averting his eyes from the onslaught of fury directed at him.
"Eh," Tanaka's voice reaches Hinata's ears, "Is that the Kageyama you were talking about?"
"Yeah, neither of us work regular hours, so he's here with me now."
Just as Kageyama is about to return to his book, a phone is shoved into his face. Puzzled, he looks at Hinata for clarification.
The boy shrugs and says, "Tanaka wants to talk to you. He's that police guy I told you about, remember?"
Kageyama receives the phone, still feeling rather confused. "Hello?" he speaks.
A disembodied voice answers back in a menacing tone, "Listen up, punk. If you dare do anything to our precious Hinata, well... Let's just say you'll regret it very, very much. Got that?"
"Uh–"
"Good, now give the phone back to Hinata."
Kageyama hands back the phone dutifully, feeling a small chill creep down his spine.
"So what was Tanaka talking to you about?" Hinata asks, curiosity piped. He's rather surprised. After all, they haven't even met each other in person yet.
Kageyama shrugs, "I got a death threat."
Flipping through the pages of his book, he tries to drag his attention away from the ever-lively Hinata, who is already continuing the exciting conversation he seems to be holding. However, his efforts are all in vain when Hinata bid his caller goodbye.
"Kageyama, Ukai is holding a party soon!"
"Not going–"
"Oh, and Tanaka says to tell you that you are expected to show up. Apparently he wants to meet you in person."
What did I ever do to deserve such a situation? Kageyama sighs dejectedly.
Hinata plops down beside him, "I know you don't really like social events, but you should go and meet the other Crow agents. I'll help introduce them!"
Another sigh escapes. He drags the sound.
"Besides," Hinata continues with a dreamy smile, "I get to see you in a suit."
Kageyama stops mid-sigh. Oh, yeah. We'll need to dress up for the party.
He thinks about it.
"Hinata, do you have a suit?"
Shaking his head, Hinata answered, "I had an old one with Ukai, but it doesn't fit me."
"Wanna get matching ones?"
Hearing no reply, Kageyama glances at his flatmate. Hinata, from his point of view, is absolutely positively glowing. Jaws agape, eyes wide, face red.
Exactly like a kid in a candy shop, Kageyama realises.
"I take that as a yes?"
Hinata makes a sound and slumps on the couch. Kageyama barely manages to identify a weak thumbs-up from him.
The piece of paper in Iwaizumi's hand is slightly crumpled. He runs a finger across a particularly deep crease. The 'C' and the 'x' stare back at him, seemingly taunting, seemingly mocking.
It could be a gang symbol. Or an underground organisation. Sire Noble could be involved. Sire Noble must be– why else would he indicate this sign on his victim?
"What does this mean?"
The question plagues his mind, but he leaves the paper on the table for another day to solve.
His colleague greets goodbye to someone on the phone.
"Tanaka, don't make personal calls when you're at work," Iwaizumi chides him half-heartedly.
Said man retorts back with a grin, "We're already dismissed, boss. You're way too used to working extra hours."
Really? I didn't notice at all, Iwaizumi realises as he casts a glance towards the clock. Outside, the city lights are already lit, bright like the stars that used to don the night sky.
The stars remind him of a piece of the past.
The Little Prince is one of Oikawa's favourite reads. Once, when they were younger, Oikawa brought him on a trip to the countryside.
"Iwa-chan, look at the stars, aren't they pretty?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
They were lying on the grass, facing the endless stretch of sky. Above them was an ocean of stars, captivating against the canvas of black.
Iwaizumi took a deep breath, the smell of nature a pleasant change from a smog-filled city environment. A camera, abandoned, rested on Oikawa's chest.
Beside Iwaizumi, a hand reached up towards the night sky.
"You—you alone will have the stars as no one else has them," Oikawa's voice, clear and loud, rose over the sound of crickets.
"In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of the stars I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night."
His hand, stretched out towards the vast above, lowered until it came to rest beside Iwaizumi's own.
Oikawa turned to face him, and he casted a glance back. "You—only you—will have the stars that can laugh."
The end of the recital was accompanied by a wistful look, one that Iwaizumi rarely saw.
"Is that from The Little Prince?"
There was only silence from Oikawa, so Iwaizumi let the question be carried away by a passing breeze. They lied there for a little while more.
"Iwa-chan, if I die before you, just look at the stars and remember me."
Iwaizumi, a little thrown off, gave Oikawa a good look, "You better take good care of yourself, then. I'd rather have you well and alive, than to have laughing stars."
"Don't spoil the mood!" The other protested with a pout.
The river of stars, eons old, still bright, still alive, burned themselves into Iwaizumi's mind.
He is still thinking about Oikawa when a voice brings him back to the present.
"Wanna hit the bar with us? Some of us here are planning to go drinking later," Tanaka asks, shoving the last of his files back onto the shelf.
"No, but thanks for asking," Iwaizumi declines the invitation.
Tanaka's face appears above his cubicle. "You sure? It's a good bar– the ladies there are stunning."
"Nah, I don't really drink anymore."
"Okay then, boss. We'll be going now."
The group of officers left, chatting loudly as they went. Iwaizumi hears the commotion gradually fade away. His mind returns to Oikawa, but it no longer dwells on memories of that trip.
Instead, it takes a darker turn, to one he pretended he'd forgotten.
It was already nighttime when Iwaizumi received a call from Oikawa's steward.
"Sorry to trouble at such a late timing, but young master requests your presence, sir. I should probably mention that he is drunk as well, and had ordered me to ask for you."
Thanking him, Iwaizumi hastened out his apartment and towards the estate.
He was greeted by the butler at the door, "Master Oikawa might not be in a balanced state of mind right now, please do be gentle with him."
"Sure, thanks for the tip," Iwaizumi noted.
He stepped into the mansion, taking familiar twists and turns across hallways.
Was your break up really that bad?
Iwaizumi was worried. Oikawa had many flings, none of them were able to last for a substantial period of time. Perhaps this was a lady he was unusually fond of and their separation left a wound on Oikawa?
He never did agree with Oikawa's lifestyle– it was too flashy, too wild, too self-destructive. Changing partners at the speed of changing clothes was a horrifying idea.
It's not like Oikawa listened to him, but he supposed that even best friends have to disagree on something.
The door to the bedroom was ajar. Iwaizumi slowed down, his footsteps soft against the carpeted floor. An intoxicated Oikawa is a hard Oikawa to deal with, that he knew, from all his past experiences.
Iwaizumi took a deep breath and readied himself. A step, then another, and he entered the room.
Oikawa was draped across the edge of the bed, a wine glass hanging precariously from the tip of his fingers. He looked flushed and weak, body limp, hair tousled. Unfocused eyes roamed over Iwaizumi once, twice, before they finally focused on him.
"Iwa-chan?" The name was a mumble, barely coherent. It held an emotion Iwaizumi could not identify.
"Yeah, it's me," he confirmed. "You alright?"
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa said again, louder this time. He blinked sluggishly.
Said man approached Oikawa, "Heard you the first time. Look at the state you're in, seems like I'll be taking care of you– Hey, wait, stay there first, don't get up, I'm going there–"
Oikawa ignored his words and stumbled to his feet. Swaying slightly, he murmured softly, "Iwa-chan, I want you."
"I told you already, I'm coming–"
The words died in his throat when Oikawa grabbed one of his arms. The wine glass, released, fell to the floor with a muffled 'thud'. If Oikawa had noticed, he paid no attention to it.
"Oikawa?"
Iwaizumi felt uneasy. He tried to take a step back, but the other advanced, and he took another step, and another, and another.
The cold, hard wall met his back. "Oi, Trashkawa, stop it," he tried to reason.
Oikawa's eyes were dark, darker than he had ever seen them before. It shook him to the core. Like a hunter and its prey, Iwaizumi realised.
"I want you," the intoxicated man repeated.
Iwaizumi struggled to no avail. He was still reluctant to use too much force, Oikawa, who was neck-deep in a drunken stupor, could get hurt accidentally.
"Let go already–"
And then a pair of lips covered his own.