Kageyama wakes up to an armful of Hinata. He tries to shift and sit up, but Hinata rolls to face him.
"Rise and shine, your majesty!" Brown eyes peer out from a flop of orange, too bright to have just woken up.
Kageyama stares at him, then tries to move again. His left leg twitches and pain shoots up from the ankle. "Ouch," Kageyama hissed.
"Hey, careful," Hinata scolds, "It was pretty nasty yesterday. Where'd you go anyways? You came home with a high fever and a sprained ankle."
Yesterday? Kageyama frowned. I went to Owl Street Cafe, then...
"I– Did I–" he chokes when last night's conversation comes back to him. "Did I really–"
"Sure did!" Hinata laughs, "Gosh, you were so cute, what's with that 'I drank it for you'? I'm so touched–"
Kageyama shoves him. "Shut up!" He groaned, but there is no real bite to his voice. When Kageyama looked down, something strange suddenly occurs to him.
"Hinata, aren't these the pants I wore yesterday?"
Said teen looks away, "Uhm..." He fidgets with the hem of the blankets nervously. Kageyama gives him a long look, then goes back to inspecting himself. The shirt on him is a blinding yellow, which he immediately identifies as the one Hinata bought as a joke. He'd rather die than wear it outside of their apartment. Frowning, Kageyama brings a leg up and sniffs the fabric.
"Hey, this smells like our soap."
"Ahaha..."
A long beat of silence passes between them, then Kageyama's eyes widen in understanding.
"...Wait, Hinata. Did you seriously give me a shower with my pants on?"
"Sorry...?"
"HINATA!"
Iwaizumi slouches in one of the chairs at Owl Café. His fingers play with the edge of a small rectangular card, black and dull, save for the symbol on one side.
A large 'C' and a small 'x'. The exact same symbol he had been investigating for so long.
He sighs. The chancing upon this card was not unwelcomed, but so far it only served to muddle up his brain further. Until Kyotani comes back to him with more information, he can only speculate that the symbol stands for some sort of organisation tied to various seemingly random killings.
The cup of coffee adjacent to his right arm has probably already gone cold. Bringing it to his lips, Iwaizumi winces internally. Yup, cold coffee sucks.
What sucks more right now, however, is the growing number of failed attempts to link the scattered clues together. The card had tumbled out of Kageyama's ripped pocket, to his immense surprise, but he cannot for the life of him figure out where the teen fits into this mess. Is Oikawa involved as well? He waves that thought away; first, he should figure out the deal with Kageyama Tobio.
The first lunchtime customers are starting to come into the cafe. In the growing din, Iwaizumi finds it much harder to think properly. With a groan he flicks his pen onto the table and settles his tired gaze on the notebook covered by messy words and lines, evidences of his futile brainstorming.
A sense of longing strikes him, and Iwaizumi suddenly wishes for the company of a certain best friend. Oikawa loves to listen to him talk about work, even though he never showed any interest in mystery novels. Sometimes the man even helped him to piece together obscure details from tough cases. Stricken by nostalgia, Iwaizumi finds his hand toying with the edge of the notebook; with a resigned sigh he flips to the back and extracts the letter from the small folder on the cover.
To Iwa-chan, it taunts.
For the past few days he's been carrying it around in his bag, together with the piano piece Memo: With Love To Him. It seemed dangerous to leave such precious things in his apartment, even though he knew the fear to be irrational.
Iwaizumi is just about to take out the letter and read it (or rather, try to, for the millionth time), when his phone interrupted with a call.
"Hello," he answers it curtly.
Kyotani goes straight to the point, "Listen, time is tight, where do I meet you?"
"I'm at the Owl's Cafe–"
"Okay, don't leave. I'll be there at two." With the rushed reply, Kyotani hangs up on Iwaizumi, who by now has figured out that this must be about the symbol.
He looks at the card again. The dull surface makes it impossible to leave fingerprints, and the symbol engraved on it shines orange under the light of the cafe.
Oikawa's stupid grin unexpectedly comes to mind.
They were at a high class restaurant, one with a name that Iwaizumi couldn't even read, let alone pronounce. Couples loitered about the streets outside, taking advantage of a Valentine's Day atmosphere to indulge in romantic strolls. Above, the streetlights were unblinking stars illuminating their paths, warm glow adding much to the cosy feeling.
That morning found Oikawa broken hearted, yet by noon he had already recovered from the terrible ordeal, and somehow Iwaizumi ended up being dragged along to a fancy restaurant when evening came, the incentive being that Oikawa would pay for both of them. It was a recurring thing; Oikawa is always somehow single when the annual holiday rolled around, as is Iwaizumi, and the money Oikawa had 'planned to spend on some girl' would instead be used to pay for their meals.
The food must have been good, but he wasn't one with much of a refined taste, so even if it were mediocre he would not have noticed. While waiting to be served, Iwaizumi wondered aloud, "You should spend this day with your girlfriend and break up after instead."
Upon Oikawa's surprised expression, he explained, "Then you can at least let them enjoy Valentine's Day too. A happy memory's a happy memory, no matter what happens after."
"Ah," Oikawa grinned, "But that means you'll be all alone, with nobody to love you on such a special day, right?"
The comment earned him a kick in the shin. "I'll get a girlfriend someday!" Iwaizumi complained, "And I'll spend Valentine's with her instead of you."
"If we're judging by the way you look, I'd say you'll have to wait until pigs fly."
"How 'bout I send you flying instead?"
Oikawa laughed, and the signature stupid grin graced his face. "How rude, Iwa-chan," the grin softens a fraction, "but I much prefer your company to anyone else's, to be honest, and I'm glad I get to spend today with you."
Before Iwaizumi could get a word in, the waitress served their food, and whatever questions he had was pushed aside and forgotten in favour of their empty stomachs.
Iwaizumi sighs for the umpteenth time that day. The unwelcomed recollections sting like old wounds reopened, and every justly founded fear of Oikawa no longer being in this world adds salt to the wound.
Akaashi comes around to his table, "Need a refill?" he asks gently. The man seems to have an uncanny talent in pinpointing other people's moods. Must've been because of Bokuto and his mood swings.
Pushing the cup nearer, Iwaizumi nodded, "Yeah, thanks." Even his own voice sounds like that of a burdened man's.
He sighs again.
"Kageyama, you can't find your card?"
"No," said teen furrowed his brows in confusion, "but it's probably nothing big, I must've forgotten it in the apartment."
"Tsk, you're so absentminded. I brought mine; we can use that instead," digging into his bag, Hinata retrieves a card, dull and black, and swipes it on the discrete scanner.
"Ready?"
"No," Kageyama deadpans.
"Let's go," Hinata takes his hand and pulls the both of them into the headquarters entrance.
Kyotani arrives on the dot, just like he'd promised. Iwaizumi's fifth cup of coffee lies cold and undisturbed beside the suitcase that he sets down on the table.
"What's so urgent–" the policeman barely gets a word in before he is cut off by an agitated Kyotani.
"Look," he says, "this might be your only chance at pinning them down. The symbol belongs to a hitmen organisation; they go by the name Crows Corporation.
"They have an extensive network all over the country, but the headquarters is in this area. Usually security would be tight but there's apparently a party of sorts going on, and if you want to strike now would be a good time.
"I couldn't get the names of the members- no time- but here's the address of the headquarters. It's under Sakanoshita- y'know, that obscure convenience store near here? They have an entrance in the storage room. You need a card to enter."
"Like this one?" Iwaizumi holds up Kageyama's card.
Kyotani, surprised, confirms, "Yeah. I was gonna suggest you break down the wall, since I wasn't able to get you one.
"Anyways, once you're inside you should be alright. Not really any sort of surveillance, from what I've heard. They'd be at the party anyways.
"I have a rough blueprint of the layout. It's not the best, but it's better than nothing."
He hands Iwaizumi a piece of paper with the approximate layout of the place recorded in pen. Markings identify the various rooms apparently present and Kyotani points at one circled by a highlighter.
"They'd be here, where the party is in full swing. I'd say there's about ten plus people. If you want to catch them off-guard you should go now, when the security is still lax and the last of the latecomers have just arrived."
"So," Iwaizumi gestures, "all these under a small convenience store?"
"Unlikely but true," Kyotani shrugs, "the question is, do you have a gun?"
Even though he's off duty now, Iwaizumi still carries one around, as well as a pair of handcuffs and required legal documents in his bag. After all, a competent policeman should be prepared at all times, no?
He thanks Kyotani, promising to cite him as an anonymous tipper when he writes the police report.
Iwaizumi leaves immediately. Sakanoshita? I've been there a couple of times, haven't I? They seem so normal.
Kyotani walks with him to the place. The plan is for Iwaizumi to slip in undetected while Kyotani distracts the cashier.
The street-smart man enters the store first. Iwaizumi watches as he grabs a couple packet of beers and trudges to the counter. His entire appearance changes, and Iwaizumi watches with interest as the cashier cowers below the looming man.
He sneaks in and catches a few bits and pieces of the heated argument. More like bullying, he decides, but there's more pressing matters and he continues on his way.
From his peripheral vision he sees Kyotani storming out just as he enters the storage room. A card scanner... a card scanner… After a couple of failures, he finds the real device in a corner of the room, hidden by an expertly placed rag.
Iwaizumi sends a text to Tanaka: The symbol is Crows Corporation, hitmen. Details later. Bring backup; I'm in the headquarters. Address is…
Making sure that it's been sent, the policeman steadies his breathing and steps into the inky blackness of the headquarters.
The place is dark, the only light source being that at the end of the tunnel, where a small foyer should be. Iwaizumi checks the map under the glow of his phone. Gun in one hand, he creeps to where a corridor extends from about halfway through the pitch black tunnel and manoeuvres carefully down a flight of stairs. Below, the dim lighting from fluorescent lamps allows limited vision. His steps make no sound.
Iwaizumi takes a couple of turns before noises reach his ears. Must be the party, he realises, and stuffs the map into his bag. Gun in hand, he inches to the door slightly ajar steadies his heart, and flings the door open.
"You're under arrest! Hands up or I'll shoot!"
The function room is small yet finely decorated and he wonders briefly how such a place underground can look so high-class.
Kageyama and Hinata are here too, and his heart clenches at the thought of the ginger's arrest. The boy always looked so cheerful and free; he shouldn't be here.
"You are surrounded, please cooperate with me."
Faintly he is aware of a presence, one that he is well-accustomed to.
"Hey, boss," Tanaka greets.
Iwaizumi, secretly relieved, asks him, "How's the backup? I'll explain things back in the police station. We–"
"No, boss." The man sounds pained, Iwaizumi muses briefly before the weight of those two words hit him.
"I'm sorry," Tanaka says as he puts a gun to the back of Iwaizumi's head.
With a faint horror Kageyama realises that he must have dropped the card during the mad chase in the mansion, and even though he cannot figure out how the man had found out about Crows Corporation, the heavy weight of guilt still crashes down on him hard.
"I'm sorry," Tanaka says, a gun on the back of Iwaizumi's head and Kageyama wants to scream Aren't we all? For every life we kill, aren't we always so very sorry? but he keeps his mouth shut, the way he did all those years ago when the very first murder was committed.
Iwaizumi's eyes are still trained on them, gaze betraying a deep sorrow. And although the current turn of tables finally catches up to him and his broken whisper sounds painfully like Why, Tanaka? his weariness only seems to pile on.
Tanaka exhales, "There is no backup, please drop your weapon on the floor," and Iwaizumi follows dutifully.
Kageyama knows how this will go; they would have to silence the man, and there is only one foolproof way he knows of that works. Iwaizumi looks like he knows it too.
"Wait," Iwaizumi requests, "there's something I need to understand first." Tanaka gives a sound of affirmation and he continues, staring straight at Kageyama, "Tell me, what happened to Oikawa all those years ago? Where is he now?"
Feeling the words roll thickly off his tongue, Kageyama replies, "Oikawa is dead."
The room falls under a deadly silence, and all eyes turn on Kageyama. He, however, keeps his face void of emotions and eyes dead set on Iwaizumi, who gives a small shake of head.
"... I'm sorry?" Iwaizumi asks, seemingly not understanding the words.
Kageyama meets his eyes- wide and disbelieving- and says, "Oikawa is dead. I killed him."
He knows he should stop now, he should keep quiet and shut his stupid goddamned mouth and give the man some time even as Iwaizumi asks 'how?' more to himself than to him but all those years of pent-up frustration burst forth like water from a dam finally destroyed and his voice rises at Iwaizumi's staggering form,
"I killed him! I killed the man who was my mentor! His blood is on my hands and it was a cold-blooded murder and he's dead now, he's been dead for years–"
It would be wise to note that, when faced with extreme emotional pressure, a man at times may not be a man any longer, and he would do things he never dreamt of doing. Moral boundaries, social standing and the likes may be very well thrown out of the window. Grief and anguish have that effect on people, so to say. Something dies in the heart, and a monster is born from it.
Mind blank, pupils constricted to an impossible size, Iwaizumi sees himself swoop down low, feel the gun in his hand. He wonders if he pulled the trigger, and decides that he must have, because recoil from the gun pushes him backwards. He stumbles. Amidst the silence he hears the beginning of a scream and then everything goes black.
As Tanaka slams the back of his gun down hard on Iwaizumi's head, Kageyama screams.
Vaguely he remembers a hard shove from the side, then he is on the floor and someone is on the floor beside him and there was a gunshot, wasn't there? And something wet is on his clothes, on his fingers sleek with crimson and he screams.
Kageyama's mind catches up with his eyes and he understands what he is seeing; the bright orange on the floor beside him, not moving, blood pooling below and staining the both of them, and he screams even louder.
Takeda-sensei's hand? Is that the doctor's hand? Why is he holding Hinata? Where are they going? Is that a stretcher? So loud, it's so loud–
There are hands at his sides too, on his shoulders; Sugawara is hugging him, saying something, saying something that his ears cannot hear, he needs Hinata to calm him down where is Hinata where is Hinata where is Hinata whERE IS HINATA–
Kageyama chokes on his spit and the screaming stops abruptly, morphing instead into strangled gasps and Sugawara rubs his shoulder blades soothingly and says Calm down Kageyama over and over again. He stares at his hands. They are red and they tremble.
"Kageyama, I need you to look at me," Sugawara soothes. When he doesn't receive a reply the man tries again, "Kageyama."
Kageyama tears his eyes away from all the blood, the mess, and fixes a shaky gaze on the calm grey. A hand strokes his face gently.
"Kageyama, can you stand?"
He tries his legs after a moment. Grabbing Sugawara's arm tightly he heaves himself up, almost collapsing again.
He leans on the man, who guides him slowly to the chairs. Yamaguchi comes around and hands him a drink. "Alcohol, to steady your nerves," he explained.
Kageyama takes a few small sips before his stomach constricts and his lunch threatens to come up.
"Hinata, he– he pushed me," Kageyama stutters, "he knew I would be shot. He pushed me."
Sugawara simply looks at him with sympathy.
"If– if I hadn't said all those things he– it's my fault– God, I should be the one shot–"
"Kageyama," Sugawara cuts him off sternly, "no one deserves to be shot. Don't say it's your fault."
"But–"
"Protecting you was his choice. You might think it's a terrible choice, but wouldn't you do the same for him?"
"I–" Kageyama stops short. I would. I'd take a thousand bullets for him, if it means that he gets to live.
Feeling lost all of a sudden, Kageyama buries his head in his hands, "Tell me, what should I do now?"
This time it is Yamaguchi who answers, "You wait, and you have faith in us. We'll make sure he pulls through." He gives Kageyama a confident nod, then sets on his way to the operating theatre. Evidently the discussion is over; life is at stake here, and all hands will be needed for the operation.
For the first time in his life, Kageyama takes a deep breath and allows himself to believe in the abilities of other people.
