Rikkaidai City Police Headquarters
May 11, 7:05
Sanada and Kobayashi stared at the boxes of Chinese takeout on their desks. A co-worker had gone out and picked up lunch from their usual place. Kobayashi picked half-heartedly at his chicken. Sanada hadn't even touched his spring rolls. The thought of eating made both men sick.
They had just returned from a crime scene. Three were found dead where the east and south districts met. Sanada and Kobayashi had seen enough of Seigaku's victims to recognize their MO. Despite that, their stomachs still twisted when they saw three innocent people lying dead – never to smile, never to laugh, never to live.
It always hit Kobayashi harder than Sanada. Sanada had learned to remove himself from the world long ago. Kobayashi was still attached, still had people he loved. Sometimes, Sanada wondered why a man like Kobayashi put up with this job.
"The mayor won't admit it's the bill," Kobayashi mentioned arbitrarily. He swiveled back and forth in his chair, holding his white box with one hand and a fork in the other. "He'll say Seigaku is just expanding. Cover it up like a coward. It started when that damn bill was signed, not when Seigaku decided to come into the southern district."
"Nakano's a good man; he doesn't want to scare people and cause a panic," Sanada argued.
"People are already scared. Five cops are more than two dozen civilians are dead. Pretty darn sure that's a panic. We need to cut the crap and start protecting the people – curfews for children, news reporters telling the people the truth so they're informed, all that crap."
"If Nakano admits it because of the bill, all the good it will do in the future is gone. It's not Nakano's fault."
"Don't get me wrong, Nakano's the best thing to happen to this city since the heroes. He does what needs to be done and doesn't stop until things are right. But this bill..." Kobayashi shook his head. "What good has come out of it?"
Sanada pushed his spring rolls to the side, reaching for a box of rice and a spoon. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done. All we can do now is help who we can."
"You sound like one of those heroes." Kobayashi set his food back onto his desk, his stomach too full of hate and disgust to eat. "They get more done in a few hours than we do in a week."
"They're breaking the law."
"Who cares? We haven't locked them up yet. We don't shoot at them when we see them at a crime scene. Fukuda and Nakano contact them regularly for help. We let them do it because we know they're helping. We all know the truth: this town would be in ruins if not for those guys."
"I agree," Sanada admitted. He put a spoonful of rice into his mouth, and realized Kobayashi hadn't replied. He looked at his partner, who was giving him a considerate look. The lines on his face were well defined, his head tilted just slightly in thought as his thick eyebrows scrunched together.
"You never say anything about the heroes that isn't fact," Kobayashi pointed out. The hard lines on his face lessened as his muscles relaxed to form a wicked smile. "So what's your opinion on them? Good or bad? Alien?"
"They're good men. That's fact."
Kobayashi leaned back in his chair, still smiling. "No, that's your opinion."
Sanada put another spoonful of rice into his mouth. Kobayashi looked ready to take this topic and run with it, but his phone distracted him. He grabbed it off of his desk, answering with a "Hey, honey." Kobayashi grabbed a pen out of a mug, scribbling something down onto a sticky note. He stuck it onto his computer screen, and then said, "I love you," when he hung up.
"Everything alright?" Sanada asked.
Kobayashi nodded. "Yeah. Doctor's appointment got rescheduled."
He got that distant look on his face, the one Yukimura sometimes got when he talked about a photo Mori showed him. Kobayashi always got that look on face his when he talked about his wife. He had a small smile on his lips and a look of pure content in his dark brown eyes. It was like just thinking about her made everything okay. Sanada had never seen someone more in love.
"Mei's pregnant," Kobayashi announced with a smile that filled his face. "We found out three months ago. I would have told you sooner, but we wanted to make sure everything was okay considering, well, you know."
Sanada nodded. Kobayashi was referring to the other times his wife, Mei, was pregnant. A few years ago, they decided to have a child. Mei had two miscarriages before she finally kept one. Only something went wrong. The child died shortly after being born.
After that, doctors said it was near impossible for Mei to conceive a child that would survive. They had looked into adoption, but the process was long and hard. To be having a child of their own was something they could only have dreamed of. But even if they had a child of their own, Sanada knew they would adopt one, too, out of the goodness of their hearts.
"Everything looks good so far," Kobayashi added. He was practically glowing. "Mei's happy as can be."
"Congratulations. That's great."
Kobayashi nodded. "It is, isn't?"
That's when Sanada realized that no matter how bad things seemed there was always something good to make it all worthwhile.
.
The Warehouse
14:30
Sanada went up to the fourth floor and up the spiral staircase to his room to change into a set of workout clothes. When he went down to the third floor, he saw Yukimura standing by the weight rack. He had his arms stretched out and his eyes closed in concentration as he levitated the rack with Sanada's weights. Sanada had super strength – he could lift a bus with one hand – and those weights were anything but light.
"Yukimura."
The psychic lost his concentration. The rack dropped against the floor, cracking the wood. The weights rolled off, and Yukimura kicked off the ground. He floated backwards, his feet a few inches off the ground in case any rouge weights threatened to roll over his toes.
"Since when can you fly?" Sanada asked as he walked over to the fallen weights.
"Levitate," Yukimura corrected. Sweat rolled down the edge of his nose running into his eye. The gym was hot, but not that hot. His body was obviously stressed. His feet touched the ground, but he seemed unsteady. "I've been practicing. I can only do it for a second. I used to be able to do it longer a long time ago."
"Yanagi told you not to push your limits." Sanada moved the rack away from the small dent, and began lifting the weights and placing them where they belonged. Some of those weights were difficult from him to pick up with two hands. How Yukimura's mind can sustain that level of pressure was beyond him.
"I'm not separating things." There was a small pause before Yukimura continued. "This is nothing my mind can't handle."
Sanada placed the last weight in place, and then turned to look at his leader. "You know your limits better than I do."
"Niou's working on a new project," Yukimura mentioned. "It's a motorcycle. Or a robotic dog. I can't really tell. His schematics don't make sense."
It was an obvious change of subject, one that Sanada refused to follow. The detective leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He had learned quite a bit about studying people, but he could never figure Yukimura out. On occasion, Sanada saw Niou stare at Yukimura as if he were putting the pieces of their leader together like a puzzle only to discover the pieces were from three different sets and he had to start over.
Yukimura was an enigma, a mystery that couldn't be solved.
"What do you think life would be like if we hadn't been caught in that explosion?" Sanada asked.
Yukimura didn't answer for a moment. Then, a smile crept onto his lips. "I never would have passed the spelling test I had the next day."
"Yukimura." When Sanada looked him straight in the eye, the psychic stopped smiling.
"Our families wouldn't have had to bury empty caskets for closure. We wouldn't have been trapped for eight years. We never would have met each other. All the people we saved would be dead. We would be normal."
Normal. Sanada had the feeling Yukimura thought of Mori. If Yukimura wasn't Demigod, he could be with Mori. He could see her smile every day and not have to worry about his enemies hurting her. He could wear the same content look Kobayashi had when he spoke about Mei. He could be happy. It was a life he could only dream of having.
"Why bring that up?"
"Kobayashi. He thinks the town would be in ruins if it wasn't for us."
"This town would be fine without us. New heroes would rise up. People like Kobayashi would do what's right. This town will always be protected even after we're gone." Yukimura began walking towards the elevator, his body stiff and movements tight. "I'm going to take a shower. See you at ten for patrol."
When the doors slid shut behind the psychic, Sanada looked at the hole in the floor. Sanada realized he had been wrong earlier; Yukimura didn't know his limits at all. Yukimura's power was limitless. He would sacrifice his mind before he showed any sign weakness.
.
Rikkaidai City, Southern District
23:50
Patrol was part of their routine. Sometimes they went out in squads, other times as a group. Once in a blue moon, only one hero could spare time from their "normal lives" to protect the streets; those were the nights when they relied on the police to get to the people they couldn't. They took every causality personally because Rikkaidai was their city.
At first, donning the mask was a duty, a responsibility. After five years of slipping into the shadows of the night, it was part of them, of who they were. They were part of the city, part of the lives of its people. Even though no one knew who they were behind the mask, they knew the heroes. The heroes were the men who were there no matter what – though the good and the bad – for them.
"Gentleman, Trickster, Tensai, Iron Lung – patrol the western district," Demigod ordered. "Emperor, Master, Ace, and I will be working in the eastern district. If anything goes wrong, send up a flare."
The heroes nodded, not questioning their orders. They trusted Demigod with their lives. He'd saved them twice – fifteen years ago and seven years ago. They would follow that man to the ends of the earth if it was what he wanted.
Trickster, Tensai, and Iron Lung pulled small rectangular prisms out of their utility belts. They clicked a button, and the prism transformed into a small grappling hook that could hold more weight than it looked. The three aimed at a nearby building while Gentleman kicked off the ground and took to the sky.
Each hero had memorized the city and had mastered the art of grappling hooks long ago. Gentleman flew silently through the inky night sky as his teammates hooked from building to building with ease. Lights blurred past in a stream of color– green, red, white, yellow – that mixed together like an abstract work of art. The night air was chilled and harsh against the exposed skin on their faces, but they didn't care because they felt alive as they soared through the sky.
Tensai let out a shout, unable to contain the feeling that pumped through his veins and shook him to the bone. Trickster looked over at him with a small smile before looking back at his path. Iron Lung told him to be quiet. Seconds later, Tensai heard a sharp ring, and then:
"Quiet," Demigod ordered.
Tensai took one hand off his grappling hook, and pressed it to his head. There was another sharp ring in his head as the telepathic connection dissolved. He hated that sound more than Trickster's grins and Ace's cocky attitude.
The west district was half residential and half Fudomine. The northern half located dangerously close to the radioactive northern district was home to the Fudomine mob. Compared to Seigaku, Fudomine was nothing. But the heroes kept an eye on it. They knew better than to ignore a dark horse that lurked in the shadows. For a period of time, they had been the dark horses.
Lamps lined the streets bellow, erasing any need for the night-vision function of the masks. The buildings changed from high-level apartments and businesses to lower-income apartments and small, single-level stores. In the far distance, a small suburb just outside of the west district was illuminated from the lights of many cookie-cutter homes.
The heroes continued to soar through the city, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of trouble. When they reached the edge of the west district, Tensai stopped on the roof of an apartment building. The other heroes stopped, confused. Gentleman floated down, a small swoosh of air moving along the cement when his feet met the rooftop.
"Why did we stop?" Iron Lung asked.
Tensai pointed to the corner of a brick building. The others didn't see anything with their naked eyes. Tensai, however, would see whatever it was crystal clear. Besides his super intelligence, Tensai had super senses. His eyesight, his tactile sense, everything was ten times stronger than any human's. Even in the darkness, Tensai's eyesight was better than a bat's sonar.
The three heroes they reached up for the masks and put their finger on the edge. The lens zoomed in, focusing in on an Atobe Corp. camera. They examined other buildings, realizing there were dozens of cameras already set up.
"The cameras," Iron Lung said. "They're up ahead of schedule. So what?"
"Look at the ground," Tensai replied. He repositioned his grappling hook, and took off.
The other heroes quickly looked at the streets below, and saw what made Tensai freeze earlier. Two men with black masks across their eyes wearing dark pink shirts, black jeans, and leather jackets were walking through the streets with video cameras. They walked calmly, unafraid, unchallenged.
They recognized the men immediately – Spot and Speedster, the strongest members of the Fudomine mob except for Lion, its leader.
Gentleman moved his hand off of his mask and kicked off the ground. Trickster and Iron Lung repositioned their grappling hooks to a lower building.
Tensai was already on the streets, approaching the two from behind. He rolled a few of his explosive gumballs in his hand, and said, "You guys don't exactly look like the cinematic type."
"Don't mind us," Speedster replied, "we'll only take a minute."
"A minute?" Spot muttered. "It's been three hours. I don't understand why we couldn't have run. The footage would have been just as clear. Or we could have done it during the day..."
Trickster and Iron Lung jumped down from a low building, joining Tensai. As per usual, Gentleman stayed in the sky, ready to press a unique spot on his mask that the other heroes didn't have. With a tap of his finger, he could unleash his greatest weapon – laser vision.
"Drop the cameras," Iron Lung ordered. "Or else."
"Or else what?" Speedster moved the camera so it was taping the tops of the buildings making sure to catch every camera. "You don't kill people." He reached for a shiny silver knife that rested on his belt, and began to twirl it with his free hand. "But we do."
"Don't antagonize them," Spot grumbled to his partner. "They have Gentleman with them. Lion would be mad if we showed up at base with burns. And we have to be back by midnight."
"I guess we can jam another time." Speedster snapped the flip-screen of the camera shut. He carefully put it into the pocket of his leather jacket.
Then, Speedster whipped his body around, the dagger flying out of his hand. Tensai and Trickster's minds went into overtime to calculate its trajectory. Tensai figured the calculation in seconds. He was safe. The knife had been aimed as his shoulder, but the blade would be off by an inch. So when he felt someone ram into him, he panicked.
Trickster shoved the red headed hero out of the way of the knife. The dagger grazed Trickster's arm, cutting his suit and drawing blood. He tumbled to the ground with Tensai, pinning the red headed hero to the ground.
Spot took off with Speedster right behind them.
"Catch me if you can!" Speedster shouted.
Tensai chucked the gumballs in his hand at the mob members. It was hard to move with Trickster loaming over him and his good arm pinned to the ground. When the gumballs hit the pavement, they exploded. A thin layer of smoke surrounded the impact site.
Spot's foot caught on a manhole, but he was already getting back up as the smoke cleared. Speedster was out of sight; he had been given that alias for a reason.
"Gentleman, let's go!" Iron Lung shouted. Gentlemen zoomed off through the skies like a missile. Then, Iron Lung took off at a sprint. He couldn't catch Speedster, but he could definitely catch Spot.
Only he couldn't because Spot reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small can. He tossed it to the ground, and a cloud of pink smoke erupted into the sky, forcing Gentleman and Iron Lung to stop moving. When the gas cleared, Spot was gone.
Trickster had stood up, and had pulled Tensai up with his free hand. Trickster held his other hand over his wound, not once wincing or grimacing in pain. Tensai approached Trickster. He reached out his arm to check his teammate's wound, but Trickster shook his head. Tensai recoiled his arm.
"Come on," Tensai said. "Let's get out of the streets, send up a flare, and get that cleaned up."
"I'm fine," Trickster insisted. He moved his hand, revealing the wound. His suit had been ripped but the gash was gone. Blood tinged the edges of the fabric, proving the knife had cut him, but his skin showed no aliments.
"Doesn't that hurt?" Tensai moved his eyes away from the wound and up to Trickster's face. Despite the domino masks that hide their faces, Tensai could feel those blue eyes on him, calculating, judging, questioning. Tensai clarified, "When you change?"
Trickster looked up above Tensai's head. "A flare."
Tensai turned. From the eastern district, sparks of light rose into the sky.
.
Rikkaidai City, Eastern District
Ace swore when a bullet zoomed by his head. He rolled and ducked behind the wall of a nearby building, reaching up to turn on his x-ray lens. The whites of his mask turned blue. He looked through the empty building he was hiding behind, focusing on the bank.
Demigod was fighting with the goons in the vault, Emperor was tracking down the getaway van, and Master was getting the guards. Ace looked for his target – Viper.
Viper was leaning against a wall beneath a fire escape using a dumpster as a shield in case any stray bullets shot out of the bank. A large black duffle bag was positioned at his feet, filled with brand new bills, enough to buys a decent amount of ammo and guns. He wore his signature bandana and a leather jacket, and had his gun aimed at the building Ace was behind. Viper'd have to step out into the open to get a clear shot, and even then it wasn't guaranteed his bullet would curve the correct way and hit Ace.
Ace pressed his back to the building and turned off his x-ray lens. He had one assignment – to stop Viper from getting away with the cash – and he couldn't move without increasing his risk of getting shot. He thought about what he had at his disposal – his strength, his speed, a can of knock out gas, a few trackers, a grapple hook, a breather, and a flare gun. He decided to do the first thing that came to mind even though he only had one shot at it.
Ace reached into his utility belt, and pulled out a small prism. He pressed a button, and it turned into a small flare gun. He reached into another pouch, pulling out a small cylinder. He loaded the gun, and pointed it at the sky.
He shot the flare up into the sky, dropped the gun, and took off. Viper had looked up at the sky as Ace had hoped. Ace sped up, moving faster than sound, air blowing past his eyes, colors blurring. He slammed into Viper with enough force to smash through the bricks.
The gun flew out of Viper's hand. Ace pinned Viper to the rubble, seriously impressed with the guy for staying conscious through that. Not that he would ever be impressed with a criminal. Definitely not.
"Get off of –"
Ace pressed harder against Viper, adding more and more pressure to his ribcage. Ace wasn't as strong as Emperor, but his super strength was enough to keep Viper in place.
The mob member thrashed underneath Ace, but the hero wasn't letting up. He pressed down on Viper, his strength tittering between strong and brutal. He heard sirens, and knew it wouldn't be long before the cops could show up, before someone could take the bag and –
The bag.
Ace whipped his head around. The duffle bag that had been at Viper's feet was gone. He looked back a Viper, grabbed a fistful of his bandana, and lifted his head.
"Nighty-night snake boy."
Ace crashed Viper's head into the rubble beneath him. The mobster's head rolled to the side as a line of blood ran down his neck – he was out cold. Alive, but out.
Ace stood up, kicking the Viper's gun as far away as possible, and stepped out of the hole he had created in the brick wall. Police were pulling up the scene by the dozens. While that was good and all, it would have been better if the bag was still there.
Ace surveyed the area, and swore repeatedly. He had one job: to keep Viper from getting away with the money. He was pretty sure just keeping Viper from getting away wasn't going to cut it with Demigod.
"Where the hell did it go?" Ace muttered. He looked under the dumpster, on the other side of the hole, everywhere within a ten foot radius. Then, he decided to look up.
The fire escape Viper had been standing under. Had there been someone on top of the building waiting for a chance to take the money? Was Viper merely a middle man? Well, obviously a planned middle man, but a middle man nonetheless?
Ace turned on his infrared lens with a tap of his finger, and examined the fire escape. Residual heat remained, proving his theory. Well, crap.
"Ace."
Ace turned, switching his lens from red to white with another tap of his finger. Emperor walked over, a few tears in his suit, but otherwise fine. Which was bad because Ace had failed. Again.
"Teleport back to base," Emperor ordered. "Demigod, Master, and I have to take care of some things. We'll listen to your report in the morning."
"I –"
"Go."
Ace reached into his utility belt, grabbed his teleporter, and pressed the yellow button. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
Emperor turned, and returned to the bank. Demigod and Master were hauling guys out of the bank, leaving them for the cops to cuff and take in. The cops would try to question the goons, but they wouldn't get anything important. These guys were from the lower levels, nothing more than muscle to do the dirty work.
The fact that Viper and possibly another higher-up had showed meant that Seigaku needed money. But that didn't make sense. Seigaku pulled a few heists every month and sometimes dealt with drugs. They had enough money to sustain their ranks. That meant the money was for a miscellaneous expense, something out of the ordinary, something important enough to use Viper.
Out of the corner of his mask, Emperor saw figures moving. Tensai, Iron Lung, and Trickster approached from the ground while Gentleman swooped down from the sky like a bird of prey.
"We saw the flare," Iron Lung said. "What happened?"
"Seigaku robbed a bank. Ace shot off a flare as a distraction," Emperor stated. "Anything in the western district?"
"That's a joke, right?" Tensai asked. Emperor didn't move a single muscle. "Alright. Obviously not a joke..."
"Speedster and Spot were scouting the location of the Atobe Corp. cameras," Gentleman explained. "We tried to pursue, but they escaped."
Emperor nodded, eyeing Trickster's suit for a brief moment where the knife had cut through the fabric. "Return to base. We will listen to your full report once we are done here. Tend to any injuries you sustained, and then access the new cameras. I want to see where Speedster and Spot were looking."
The four nodded and reached into their utility belts. Emperor turned and walked to the bank to assist Demigod and Master.
.
The Warehouse
May 12, 2:14
Marui and Jackal were the only ones in the basement when Master, Emperor, and Demigod appeared on the teleportation pads. The three heroes ripped their masks off their faces, set them on a nearby table, and walked over to the communicator where the two were loading up the cameras from the western district.
Marui was sitting in a large chair in front of the communicator; Jackal was standing behind him. They had shed their masks, but still wore their uniforms.
"Where are the others?" Sanada asked. He examined the screen. Marui was working on taking over a string of cameras near the border south-west boarder. Hacking was Niou's forte. It was the one skill regarding electronics Marui and Yanagi were less knowledgeable about than Niou. Regardless, Marui was able to hack into Atobe Corp. without any challenge.
"Kirihara was already in his room when we got here," Jackal began. "Yagyuu and Niou went to their rooms when Marui said he could hack into the system faster than Niou."
"How was I supposed to know he was going to leave?" Marui asked.
"Just admit he's better than you at something and get over it already. Besides, the guy took a knife for you."
Marui rolled his eyes. "Yeah. A knife that wouldn't have hit me. I'm telling you he's slacking."
Yukimura sighed. "You two can retire for the night. Marui, you and Niou can finish accessing the remaining cameras tomorrow. Jackal, you can give me your report in the morning."
Marui hit a few keys to save the data, and then stood up. He hit a button a few inches away from the main keyboard. The floor around the chair he had been sitting in opened, and the chair lowered in the floor. Once the floor panels had closed, Marui and Jackal headed towards the elevator.
The elevator screeched up. The atmosphere changed when the three heroes remained. They realized how dangerous things were becoming – Seigaku and Fudomine were active. Very active.
"Do you think they realize how dangerous things are?" Sanada questioned.
"The others or the cops?" Yukimura asked.
"The others."
Yukimura took in a deep breath. "If they do, they're hiding it. Maybe they're subconsciously aware and repressing it. I don't know."
"Seigaku wants to kill us."
Yukimura ran a hand through his hair, a million thoughts running through his mind. It was all on him, the leader, the one who saved them all those years ago. They were depending on him to save them again, to keep them alive, to keep the city from falling to pieces. He felt like a ten-year-old boy hidden beneath tons of cement again.
The people of the city had become his responsibility too. People like Mori, who thought of him as a guardian angel and believed in him nearly as much as his teammates. Mori probably believed in him, in Demigod, more than anyone else in the world.
"We can't die," Yukimura said firmly. "Not yet. We have work to do. Yanagi, check the footage from the west district. I want to see where Spot and Speedster were scouting. Sanada, go over all the records we have on Seigaku higher ups. I want to send all of our information to the police."
"Even our top classified info?" Sanada questioned.
"Yes. All of it. Include Fudomine's info. No one else is going to be injured because we were too proud to work with the police." Yukimura grabbed his mask off the table, and headed for the teleportation pads. He stepped up, his friends watching him. Yukimura smiled as he slipped on his mask. "Just sweeping the southern district again. Don't wait up."
Then, Demigod was gone.
.
On the fourth floor, Jackal headed to the kitchen to get something to eat before going to bed. Marui walked up the spiral staircase. He absentmindedly rubbed the pads of his fingers together. The skin slid together with ease. His palms were smoother than most – they were flawless scars.
When he reached the loft with their bedrooms he stopped in front of a door that was not his own. He knocked twice not bothering to call out it was him. No one else bothered Niou when he was in his room.
Niou opened the door, his blue eyes falling on Marui. There was something intimidating about his gaze. It made Marui feel raw and exposed. Niou had already changed out of his suit, and was wearing a pair of sweat pants. Marui couldn't help but notice Niou's chest. No bruises, no scars, no burns – just pale skin. Any aliments or injuries he morphed away. The others were crushed with hideous flaws from their past and injuries sustained while wearing their mask.
The faint scent of smoke and steel drifted out of Niou's room. Marui had only been inside once, but he could never forget the stacks of blueprints and half finished robots that sat on his desk. Marui tried to look inside, but Niou stood in the doorway, shoulder pressed against the frame in a lazy lean that blocked his view. His blue eyes seemed to ask the question for him – what?
"Is your arm okay?" Marui asked. He looked at Niou's arm. No scar. No blood. No sign of it ever happening. He looked back up at Niou's face. "It looked like a pretty nasty cut."
"It's fine."
"What about your suit?"
"I'll fix it tomorrow. That all?"
Marui nodded his head once because he couldn't even remember what possessed him to stop by Niou's room. The white haired man moved away from the frame, reaching for the door to swing it shut.
Marui stepped forward, putting his hand against the wooden door. Niou raised a curious eyebrow for a brief moment, and then let it fall. Marui wondered if he was losing his mind. He should have just dropped the conversation at that. Now, Niou was staring at him, expecting something, anything, to explain why he had stopped the door from closing.
"Something else?"
"Why did you jump in front of me?" Niou tilted his head slightly to the side, staring at Marui, his gaze unwavering and exposing. Marui added, "The knife wouldn't have hit me."
"I must have miscalculated its trajectory." Niou tilted his head the other way, his eyebrows scrunching together the way they did when he was confused. "Does it matter?"
Marui shook his head. "No. Not really. Just thought it'd be nice to have you admit you were wrong about something for once. It's always fun to rub things in your face."
"Whatever you say." The corner of his mouth quirked up like he knew something Marui didn't. "Anything other pointless questions you'd like to ask?"
Marui shook his head. "Just – I'll see you tomorrow. We have to finish the camera stuff."
Niou nodded. Marui turned and walked away, Niou's door clicking shut behind him.
A/N: Feedback is loved :)