May 21st, 2018

When Sakusa walked into his living room, the sight of Atsumu sprawled on his couch was not the first unusual thing he had expected to see this morning. One of his expensive pillows had been kicked onto the floor, and Sakusa grumbled before bending over to pick it up. He tossed it at Atsumu's face—the blond awoke with a splutter.

"You have a bed, you know," Sakusa said dryly. "If I'd known you'd do this, I wouldn't have bought you bed sheets."

"Aw, but Omi," Atsumu whined. "There was the Late Night Show with Takada Kiyomi playin' last night—"

"I don't care." Then Sakusa paused, back-tracking. "Wait. You watch Takada Kiyomi?"

"Duh."

"Hm. Strange. I was under the impression that her demographic were middle-aged housewives..."

"Hey! Who're ya callin' middle-aged?"

Sakusa snorted, unable to fight an amused smile. "Being someone's housewife doesn't bother you?" His Aunt Terano would have had a few words to say about that.

"I'd rather be someone's housewife than whatever the fuck I am right now." Atsumu pressed his lips into a thin line, brow creasing in mild frustration. "I just... I don't know where to go from here."

"You are a homeless freeloader," Sakusa said, matter-of-factly.

"Omi, d'ya really hafta put it like that—"

"Yes. But..." Sakusa hesitated, pondering on how exactly to proceed. "You... We... We're still young. You don't have to know where to go just yet. Just use this time to think."

Atsumu avoided his eyes. "You're doing pretty well for yerself. Prosecutor. And you're the same age as me."

"It's different. I'm here because I have a goal."

"A goal?"

"Yes. That's what you need to find before doing anything. It doesn't have to be anything specific."

"Then what?"

"Something you want to do."

Sakusa made himself breakfast while Atsumu got his affairs in order—namely, the latter had to go through the ordeal of heaving himself off the couch and dragging himself to the bathroom. The black-haired man wasn't feeling very hungry today, just a little peckish, so cereal sufficed. None of the sugary kind—Sakusa couldn't stand sugary cereals. Which was why his eye twitched when he saw a box of fruit loops in his kitchen cabinet. Atsumu, he though, scathingly. Of-fucking-course Miya Atsumu was the kind of jackass who rotted his teeth on fruit loops. They don't even have real fruit in them. Why the fuck are they advertised as 'fruit' loops, then? Maybe I should launch an investigation into this. Just to make a point, Sakusa washed an apple and bit straight into it, crunching it furiously as his free hand poured cereal—good, healthy cereal—into a bowl.

Atsumu, who had been halfway to the guest bathroom, jumped. "Damn! Are you okay there, Omi?"

"Peachy," Sakusa assured him, darkly.

"Hah! Haha. That's funny, 'cause you're eatin' an apple."

Sakusa deadpanned at him.

"Y'know what?" Atsumu threw up his arms. "I'll just go. No one ever appreciates my jokes..." He was about to round the corner before stopping, not turning around. "Hey, Omi?"

Sakusa swallowed a mouthful of apple before replying. "Yes?"

"What if what I wanna do is impossible?"

What, does he want to bring back the dead or something? "What's so impossible about what you want?"

At this, Atsumu did turn. "Don't laugh," he warned. "Or I swear I'll kick yer ass no matter how much I owe ya."

"Do I really seem like the kind of person who would laugh at something like that? Just spit it out already."

Atsumu tongued the inside of his cheek, passing one hand through his blond hair. His roots were starting to show, Sakusa noticed. His natural hair was a dark, chocolate-y brown. Briefly, he wondered how long he would have to glimpse this rare sight before Atsumu inevitably touched up his hair. "I... wanna go pro. With volleyball, that is. But..." Atsumu sighed. "It's something I left behind a long time ago. There's no way I'd be able to keep up with the pros the way I am now. And by the time that I do, I'll be too old for the league. The most I'd get is a few years before they force me to retire."

Maybe if he were more faithful and bullheaded, Sakusa might have said something along the lines of 'It's not impossible! It's just hard.' But Sakusa was pragmatic by nature, and Atsumu's dream wasn't at all practical or even attainable. "Is there anything else you want to do?"

Atsumu shrugged, listless. "I just know I want to do somethin' with volleyball. That's the only thing I've ever really been good at it, and it's the only thing I ever... loved."

Sakusa felt a pang of pity for the man. But he quickly shook it away—he didn't think Atsumu was the type of person who liked to be pitied. They were the same in regard—only when other people started pitying them did they truly feel pitiful. "There are other career opportunities in the v-league," Sakusa told him. "I don't know enough to name them all, but you could probably find a job there that doesn't require a high school diploma. You have work experience, right?"

"Yeah, but it's all manual labor. Blue-collar work."

"Doesn't matter. Work is work. Not to mention, you're familiar with the game."

Atsumu's lips quirked upward. "Yeah, I guess there's that."

"Good." Sakusa's cheeks heated up, and he bent his neck to see if he had accidentally turned the stove on. There was only a second possibility then, one he wasn't sure if he had the time or energy to entertain in this tumultuous times. "Now go shower," he said, feigning irritation, "You're stinking up my house."

Atsumu laughed uproariously. "Always gotta get the last word in, don'tcha, Omi-Omi?"

"I—youstop calling me that." Sakusa faced away from Atsumu, chewing his apple moodily. At least Atsumu wouldn't be able to see the growing redness on his cheeks. God. What am I thinking? He's a witness. Not to mention, the last time he had ever liked someone, it hadn't exactly gone well. Midorima didn't know it, but he had ruined him.

"Stop callin' me Miya, then, and we'll see." With that, Atsumu was gone, whistling a merry tune on his way to the bathroom.

Sakusa finished the rest of his apple and threw the core into the bin.

Miya Atsumu... was not the star he had once been. Does it matter, though? Sakusa quite liked Atsumu as he was now. Atsumu was a fighter. And that was more than admirable in his eyes—enough to redeem his less attractive qualities. But how much? How much do I like him? It was a question he dared asked himself, one with an answer he wasn't very sure of.

He started on his cereal. The flavor was bland. He would have added some berries in if he'd been bothered. But, alas, he was feeling more sluggish than usual today—had been ever since Kuroo Rina's big reveal.

Ugh. Kuroo Rina. Ever since the bomb had dropped, she'd been a major headache for him. She had actually been quite cooperative, but the sheer magnitude of the truth she had revealed still had him reeling. Even now, Sakusa could scarcely believe it. Kuroo Rina had been pretended to be Hirakawa Shion for the past decade. The question was: Why? Rina hadn't been able to provide an answer to that. She was just as much in the dark of the reasons behind her role as Sakusa was and hadn't been very helpful beyond telling he and Okazaki the nuances of her job, which was really quite simple and boiled down to be Hirakawa Shion, first daughter of Hirakawa Daizen. That begged yet another question. Where was the real Hirakawa Shion? And Noriko... She must know about this. There's no way she doesn't. So... Why has she kept quiet all this time? He could guess, easily enough, but it would all be conjecture. What Sakusa needed—what he and Karasuda and Chinen needed—was cold, hard proof.

He'd already made a call.

Now he just needed for them to get back to him.

On the kitchen table, his phone buzzed, and Sakusa startled. Already? He checked the number. Hm? Shirabu? What does he want? He swiped the green button across his screen. "Hello?"

"Sakusa..." Sakusa didn't know how someone could sound like death, but Shirabu somehow managed that feat. "Do you think you can come down to the station today? There's someone who would like to meet you."

"It depends," Sakusa replied, neutral. "Who are they and what do they want?"

"She's the the Superintendent of Criminal Affairs in Sendai." Shirabu sounded not only like death, but also very strained. "She came down to Tokyo a few days ago, and she's been... arranging the evidence for court. And," he sighed deeply, "terrorizing my boss."

The Superintendent of Criminal Affairs? And she had a bone to pick with poor old Miyazawa? Well, that was certainly interesting. "Hang on. What's this about court?"

"No trial date's been fixed yet, but I'd assume that the Prosecutor-General and that director are going to get tried." Shirabu's debilitating sarcasm was back. Good. Sakusa had almost been worried with how sullen Shirabu had seemed. "Yeah. That trial. This is evidence supporting the director's confession."

There was more evidence against Hirakawa and Shō? Sakusa's eyes went wide. This is perfect! "When should I be there?"

"Umm... Maybe sometime this afternoon? She's drunken herself into a stupor and won't be up for a while."

"Why would she drink on a work night?"

"Actually, she's hungover from this morning."

"I see."

"I'll text you, okay?"

"Alright, thanks."

Shirabu hung up first, and Sakusa pretended that he wasn't petty enough for that to bother him.


Two bumbling idiots had burst into the house uninvited. At least, that was Miya Atsumu's first impression of the situation. He just stood in the living room—half-naked and water droplets still dripping from his hair, which had fallen over his eyes—as the brown-haired man picked up one of Sakusa's expensive decorative vases and waved it at the woman's face.

"Uh," said Atsumu, intelligently. They turned to him. "He's not gonna like that."

"Oh!" The woman gasped. "Oh, it's you! The boyt—witness!"

Self-consciously, Atsumu adjusted the towel on his waist. "Yeah. And? Wait, are we being robbed? 'Cause if we are, I'm gonna go call the police. Please don't touch anythin', m'kay?" He made a great show of turning on his heel and marching to Sakusa's room.

"No, no, no, wait! We're not burglars!" The woman rushed after him, hand reaching out to grab his arm before thinking the better of it. "Look, I have a key to this place, okay?" She dug through the pockets of her blazer and fished out a set of keys, jingling it.

"Those could be your house keys for all I know," Atsumu pointed out, although he was quite certain that they were not, in fact, robbers of any sort.

"Oh my god," the guy at the back said loudly. "Can we hurry the fuck up? Please? I have a date with a cute girl today."

"Hah! More like a date with your left hand—"

"Fuck off, Hana, you dirty bitch!"

Oh, geez, okay. Atsumu was starting to wish that he hadn't left his clothes in the guest room, because this was the sort of confrontation he would've liked to witness fully clothed. This is awkward. What do I do? Call Omi? But then what's he gonna do? Tackle them to the ground? Maybe I should do that. No, wait, I'm still naked. Fuck. Tackling people in the nude was a no-no in his book.

Okazaki Hana and Okazaki Naoji glared at each other, electricity practically pulsing around them.

Then the door to Sakusa's room slammed open. "What the fuck is happening out here? You—" He stuttered to a halt when he noticed Atsumu standing in nothing but a towel. Atsumu cleared his throat, pretending he was unaware of the attention. Sakusa seemed to snap out of it quickly enough. "I—okay. Okay." He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in exasperation. "Miya, please go get dressed, and... What are you two terrible terrors doing in my house?"

Smooth, Omi, smooth. Atsumu mock-saluted, deciding to spare Sakusa the trouble of arguing. Also because there was nothing more than he would've liked to be clothed right now. He was pretty sure that the Okazaki siblings were both checking him out when they thought he wasn't looking. "On it."

As Atsumu disappeared into his room, Naoji answered Sakusa's question. "What, didn't you get the hag's message?"

Okazaki stepped on his foot. Hard. Ignoring Naoji's yowls, she elaborated, "Sorry for dropping by on such short notice. I should've known you don't check your texts very often." Then, unexpectedly, she squealed, clutching her cheeks. "Ahh, I'm sorry! But you two really are living together like this...!"

Sakusa scowled. "You already knew this, Okazaki."

"I know! But seeing is a whole 'nother thing entirely!"

"Shut up, yaoi fangirl," Naoji interrupted, scoffing. "And tell him already."

Okazaki Naoji was not somebody Sakusa was fond of. He was nosy, loud and crude—much like his sister, but dialed to one-hundred. For once, however, Sakusa found himself being very fond of Naoji's interference. "What is it?" What's so important that you had to use the emergency key to my house?

"Well," Okazaki began, legs shifting so that she stood pigeon-toed in her reluctance. "There was a protest outside Chiba prison today. If you read your text messages, you would know."

What? A protest? Sakusa let the information sink in. There was only one thing that this could have been about, and it sent his heart aflutter. He'd been keeping up with the news, and he knew that Iwaizumi Hajime had gained an influx of supporters over the past few days. His name was even part of a popular hashtag on Tweeter, one used mostly by Japanese citizens partaking in online political discourse.

"There weren't many who showed up," Okazaki went on, "But the fact that anyone bothered to show up at all is... It's amazing."

"Yes," Sakusa agreed. "It is. You came all the way here to tell me that?"

Okazaki grinned. "I wanted to see you, too. Plus, I hadn't had the opportunity to use the key until today."

"So you just felt like breaking in?"

"Pretty much," Okazaki and Naoji said at the same time, exchanging a glance. They often bickered, but the resemblance between them was simply uncanny.

"Not to mention," Okazaki added, "I wanted to see how the domestic life is treating you."

"Okazaki, please."

She dropped her voice to a hushed whisper. "But I'm not wrong, am I? You like him. You like Miya Atsumu."

Sakusa's expression soured. "I don't have time for that right now, Okazaki."

"Nonsense! There's always time for love."

"It's not—look, I haven't figured things out yet. For all I know, it could just be physical attraction."

"So? There's nothing wrong with that as a starting point. Just look at my brother."

Sakusa raised a brow.

Okazaki backpedaled. "You're right, bad example."

Naoji squawked. "I'm right here, you guys! Who was the one who chauffeured you here, Hana? Me!"

"And it's all you're good for, you deadbeat scoundrel."

As Sakusa tried to tear the siblings apart from one another without touching them, Atsumu leaned against the wall of the corridor, out of sight. Their noisy bickering turned into white noise as Atsumu replayed the words he had heard in his head. Sakusa liked him. He liked him. Or, at least, he liked his body. Which was fine. Atsumu was no stranger to flings. Although... He doesn't strike me as the fling kinda guy. His slapped his cheeks. Snap out of it, 'Tsumu! So what if Omi-Omi thinks I'm hot? I am hot. It was just a fact of life. Him and Sakusa... They were just too different. Again, it was just a fact. Sakusa had a blooming career and a high-end salary and Atsumu... Atsumu had... nothing. Nothing worth showing for.

Atsumu paced up the corridor, then back down, making sure to make lots of noise. "Hey, guys, I'm ba..." He stared at Sakusa repeatedly beating Naoji on the head with a back-scratcher he had procured from somewhere.

"Ow, ow, ow, stop!" Naoji screeched, releasing the headlock he had put his sister into.

"Oh, good," Sakusa turned to Atsumu, handing him the wooden device, "You're back. Do you want a turn?"

"Are ya kiddin'? Hell yeah." Atsumu took the back-scratcher from him and held it up threateningly. Omi looks good like this, he didn't say as he approached a balking Naoji. Carefree, as much as Sakusa could get, anyway, in his home clothes... He liked seeing this side of him. Knowing that Sakusa Kiyoomi wasn't always a no-nonsense prosecutor with a log up his ass and a raging boner for justice in his tight designer pants was comforting.

"Miya?" Sakusa was looking at him. "Your face is completely red."

What the?! Fuck! Atsumu glanced away, letting Naoji retreat to a safe distance. "Really? Uhh, it's just a 'lil hot in here. Also, from the shower. Yeah."

"Oh, hell," Okazaki said, palming her face. "Now there's two of them."

"Are just gonna ignore the fact that this guy was prepared to finish what your boss started?" Naoji demanded, crouching behind the couch.

"Yes," Sakusa and Atsumu said in unison, faces schooled into masks of solemn neutrality.

"Definitely," Okazaki said at the same time.

Atsumu laughed—he knew he would miss these days.


"Wow." Standing on the sidewalk in front of his dormitory, Kindaichi's eyes were shining as Sakusa pulled up in the cul-de-sac. "I forgot how cool your car is, Sakusa."

"I had it deep-cleaned yesterday," Sakusa shared as Kindaichi got into the passenger seat. "Strange—this isn't the same place I dropped you off at last time."

"Ah, yeah, about that... I got shifted to a new dorm. I'm sharing a duo with Kunimi now. Oh, and Kuroo, our other roommate... He moved out with his girlfriend, so it's me and Kunimi."

Sakusa drove out of the cul-de-sac, merging into the main road. "How is it?"

"Pretty good." Kindaichi smiled. "We've been practically attached at the hip since primary school, so it's not like we're not getting along."

"But?" Sakusa sensed a 'but'.

Kindaichi's smile wavered. "It's... a little quiet."

In time, Kindaichi would get used to it. But Sakusa knew how he felt—the silence. It was deafening and confining. Like being trapped in a soundproof layer, doomed to watch and interact with the world but never hear its ringing beauty. He'd been like that, once, when his father and Komori had died within just a month of each other.

"Hey, Sakusa?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you bringing me along with you to the station? Why not go with Okazaki-san or by yourself?" Kindaichi sounded genuinely confused, and Sakusa couldn't blame him. Not really. The lines in their relationship had long been muddied in Sakusa's point of view, but Kindaichi probably still thought Sakusa only cared for him as some subordinate.

"Okazaki has other commitments today. And..." Sakusa frowned. How would he even say this? Saying 'I miss you' would sound too strange coming from him. "I missed working with you," he settled for, "And I think you probably need a day out."

"Really?" Kindaichi's eyes were round. "You missed working with me?"

"You're selling yourself short." A little anxiously, Sakusa tapped a finger on the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green in front of him. "And what if I do? I consider you a friend, Kindaichi."

Poor Kindaichi looked like Sakusa had just thrown him out of a plane but recovered after a moment. "Wha—I mean—! Yes! You're my friend, too," Kindaichi managed eventually, "I didn't know that you also..."

"Thought of you as a friend?"

"Yeah. I mean, well, you're my boss."

Sakusa shrugged. "So?"

"So..." Kindaichi blinked. "Huh. So nothing, I guess." The smile was back again, this time in full force, and Sakusa took pleasure in knowing that he was at least partially responsible for that.

They made good time, arriving at the station ten minutes before noon. Sakusa parked his car in the guest lot.

As they walked the short distance to the police building, Sakusa texted Shirabu.

[Sakusa]: We're here

[Shirabu]: k

[Shirabu]: come to break room 3

Sure enough, Shirabu was found sitting next to the coffee machine in the aforementioned room while Obata and Smith were exchanging dinner recipes at a nearby table. A few other workers were inside but keeping to themselves.

Shirabu didn't greet them when they entered—didn't even seem to see them. He just stared blankly at the wall, chin resting on his palm.

"Oh? What's this?" Obata said as they approached. She grinned—nastily. "If it isn't the great suspended one."

"Hello to you, too, Obata-san," Sakusa replied coolly. "We're just here to talk to Shirabu."

"I'm surprised you managed to find parking today. Some of the higher-ups came in today for a meeting so the basement should be packed."

"We parked outside," Kindaichi explained, inserting himself into the conversation.

"Whaaat? You parked that high-class, sexy machine outside? Black Beauty?" Obata gasped in horror.

"The Midnight Mare?" Shirabu, stirring from his depressive slump for the first time, cocked an inquisitive brow.

"The Sleek Stallion?" chimed Smith, through a mouthful of octopus sausages and corn kernels.

Sakusa's eye twitched. "Oh, for god's sake—"

Kindaichi blinked, his arm feeling mildly itchy in its sling. "You guys named his car?"

"Can we please just do what we came here for?" Sakusa said abruptly, glaring at everyone. Only Smith had the decency to looked abashed. Just for that, Sakusa added, "'Sleek Stallion' was the best one."

Obata groaned, slamming her hand on the table as Smith fist-pumped the air. "Aw, come on! 'Black Beauty' is so obviously superior!"

Shirabu slid down from his stool like a snake, ignoring the banter of his colleagues. "Come," he said quietly, weary gaze flicking between Kindaichi and Sakusa. "She's in the old man's office." The bowl-cut man looked like he had seen better days, but Sakusa, frankly, didn't really care about Shirabu at the moment.

"Yeah, you guys go," Obata waved them off, "I have to test some DNA samples for Senior Superintendent Yagami anyway."

"Oh, Yagami Soichiro-san?" Smith perked up. "I hear his son, Light, was offered a promotion. But he turned it down."

"Seriously? Isn't he meant to be a genius? His father is retiring soon—the least he could do is make more money to feed his parents..."

The meaningless conversation faded into the background as Sakusa and Kindaichi followed Shirabu down the hall. They took the elevator to one of the upper floors. Miyazawa's office was on the same level as most of the higher authorities like Superintendent Keishi.

"Hey, um," Kindaichi tried to make some small talk with Shirabu on the way, "We've never formally met, have we?"

"No," Shirabu said flatly, not looking at him.

Kindaichi caught the hint. "Right. I can see why now."

Sakusa's mask hid his smile.

"Here." Shirabu knocked once on the office door before opening it. "Pardon the intrusion..."

What they saw when they entered was most unusual, but Shirabu didn't seem to be fazed by it.

"Fuck off, old man!" Superintendent Ishigami Yua was snapping as Miyazawa chased her around the office. She was holding a bottle of liquor close to her chest and the two of them were power-walking around the room.

"Ishigami-san," Miyazawa began tiredly, "Please—"

"Turn yourself in and maybe I'll consider it!"

"I—" Miyazawa cut himself off when he realized Sakusa and Kindaichi were behind Shirabu. His face went as white as a sheet, and it was here Sakusa knew that the man was guilty of something. "Ah... Sakusa-san..."

"Oh, goodie!" The liquor sloshed in the bottle as Ishigami hopped over Miyazawa's desk, knocking a pile of important-looking papers on the floor in the swift motion. She landed in Miyazawa's chair, adjusting the height to its highest. The crank squeaked annoyingly. "The cavalry are here."

"Please don't tell me you're still drunk," Shirabu said, blandly.

"A little hungover, but I'll be fine."

"Shirabu," Sakusa interjected, "What is going on here?"

Kindaichi hurried over to Miyazawa to help him collect the papers, nodding when Miyazawa offered him his thanks.

"I'll tell you what's going on." Ishigami spun once in the chair. "Evidence for the Oikawa case back in 2012 was falsified. Shirababy brought it to my attention."

Sakusa rounded on Shirabu. "You did?"

A shrug. "I just asked her to poke around a little... I didn't think she would actually find anything."

"So," Ishigami suddenly seemed more sober as she straightened in her chair, "I've compiled a paper for submission from the court. I'd like you to review it, prosecutor, before I officially hand it in. And while you're at it..." She closed her eyes. "Simple deduction tells me that you're probably one of the only people who has seen most sides of this case. The perpetrators', the victims', the scapegoat's..."

She wasn't wrong. Sakusa had indeed 'seen most sides' of the story. "And?"

"What I want," she pointed at him, then at Miyazawa, "Is for you to convince this old coot to fess up."

"Aren't you a superintendent? You have grounds to arrest him."

"She's got a few screws loose," mumbled Shirabu, shoving his hands in the pockets of his lab coat rather indignantly. "I think she'd rather die than do things by the book."

Kindaichi tried to joke, "Kinda like you, eh, Sakusa?"

It didn't really land. Sakusa gave him a dry look. "The book is a useful reference. Don't compare me to someone who probably burnt it the moment she got her hands on it."

Kindaichi winced. "Right. Sorry."

"Shirababy and onion-head," Ishigami requested, "Can you two leave the room, please? This is between the three of us now."

"Fine by me." Shirabu turned heel immediately, not wanting to breathe the same air as her for long.

"Onion-head?" Kindaichi sounded incredulous. "I haven't been called that since high school." Awkwardly, he combed his hair with his fingers. "I really need to cut my hair..." He obeyed, though, excusing himself and padding from Miyazawa's side to the door.

The moment the door closed, Ishigami lost her cheery exterior, her features hardening. "Alright, Miyazawa-san. I'd like you to explain the situation to Sakusa-san."

"There's nothing to explain," Miyazawa said weakly.

"Stop bullshitting or else I'll arrest you right here and now. You falsified the evidence for the Oikawa case. Why? Who put you up to it?" She glanced at Sakusa. "What about you? You have any idea?"

"I have a hunch," Sakusa replied. "Miyazawa-san... You probably don't recognize me, but I was... close with your niece in the past."

"Oh, no," Miyazawa smiled faintly, "I do recognize you. You've grown up well, Kiyoomi-kun."

Good. That makes things easier, I guess. "Why don't you take a seat?" Ishigami took this as her cue to relinquish possession of the chair. Eager to relieve his old bones, Miyazawa sat down. "Miyazawa-san... The only reason I can possibly come up with for you to take such drastic actions... Is because of Hira—Noriko. At her request, you planted Iwaizumi-san's fingerprints from Noriko's clay pig on the murder weapon. I checked the records before I came—you worked for the Miyagi Prefectural Police during the time Oikawa was murdered. It lines up with Shō's confession. You did this all for her."

Sakusa jutted out his chin defiantly, waiting for him to deny it. But Miyazawa didn't. He considered Sakusa's words, then leaned back in his chair. "Yes. It's true."

"Hm?" Sakusa scrutinized him. "No resistance?"

"I think," Miyazawa said. "I've wanted the truth to come out for a long time now. At least, on a subconscious level I did. I can't count the amount of times I've wanted to tell Shirabu-kun the truth. But he would've been so disappointed in me... Too late for that, I suppose. I don't believe that he isn't listening through the door right now."

"Do you know how many people's lives you've helped fuck up?" Sakusa asked, bluntly. "Ishigami-san is right—I've seen the shit they've been through. Those people... None of them deserved to suffer like this."

Miyazawa smiled sadly. "I know I'm trash. But after Meisa died... Noriko-chan was the only one who I could still protect. Shion... Daizen took her somewhere and she never came back. A new woman replaced her. I don't know where she is, but Noriko is still here. She's my sister's daughter. How could I abandon her in her time of need?"

"Her time of need was conspiring to murder. Forgive me if I'm not sympathetic."

"I am not asking for your sympathy. I know what she and I did was wrong. We deserve to burn in hell when we die. But while I still breathe, I will do anything to help her."

Gotcha. "Then live up to your word. Help her. Help her finally be free of her father. You've been covering for Daizen, haven't you? You know all the things he's done." Sakusa pulled out the chair in front of Miyazawa's desk, sitting down and inching forward. "What he did to Meisa-san."

Miyazawa flinched. "There's no need to go that far," he snapped. "I already told you I wanted the truth to be known. I will testify against them. I will save Noriko-chan once and for all. But I cannot do it alone. If her testimony does not align with mine... There is only so much we can do."

Sakusa nodded. "I know. Please leave that to me. I'll convince her." If not me, then... "Ishigami-san," the superintendent hummed in response, "I'll proof-read your document and get Karasuda or Chinen to submit it. Miyazawa-san, please get in contact with the prosecutors I mentioned by the end of the today."

"Roger that," Ishigami said breezily. "I have it on a hard drive as well as a physical copy."

"Give me both."

After the exchange had been made, Sakusa received a text from Kindaichi.

[Kindaichi]: After you're done, do you want to go for lunch?

"Thanks for your time," Ishigami tossed over her shoulder as she cuffed Miyazawa, "It was a good show."

"Yes, I'm sure it was. I'll see you in court, Ishigami-san."

"Right back atcha."

Kindaichi was waiting outside Miyazawa's office, fiddling with his phone. When he noticed Sakusa coming out, he beamed. "Did you see my message?"

"Mm. Where do you want to go?"

Kindaichi listed a string of restaurants off the top of his head, Sakusa listening contentedly. Moments like this were nice, when they could take a breather from important matters. They'd made it to the car when Sakusa's phone rang.

"Oh, go ahead," Kindaichi said before Sakusa could excuse himself.

"Thank you." Sakusa picked up, lifting the device to his ear. "Hello?" Nobody answered. Irritably, he held it out in front of him. There was one voicemail left for him. Dialing 123 on his phone to open his voicemail, he raised it to his ear once more.

"Your visitation request has been accepted. Please come in on the twenty-third, at three-thirty in the afternoon, Sakusa-san. Please do not reply to this voicemail. Thank you."

Good. Sakusa made the final phone call he needed.

"Sakusa?"

"Hello, Midorima."


May 23rd, 2018

Sakusa couldn't help it. He drank in the sight of her—relished in the sight of her behind the reinforced plastic screen. Sitting on the opposite side of him, Hirakawa Noriko's gaze was dark, her princess-like bangs partially shadowing her eyes.

"What do you want?" Noriko broke the silence. Her voice was somewhat muffled by the screen.

"You look horrible," Sakusa told her, crossing one leg over the other.

She sneered. "Try being detained in the same space for fourteen days."

"You can take it. Legally, you're only able to be kept here for twenty-three, anyway."

"You don't need to recite the law to me, Sakusa-san."

"Because you made it?"

"Don't be petty."

"Tch." Sakusa clicked his tongue. "You've always made it hard for me."

"That's not my problem."

"Right. You have bigger fish to fry right now, don't you?" Sakusa steepled his fingers, looking her straight in the eye. "Hirakawa. I don't give a flying fuck what happens to you. You know this, right? Do you know why that is?" She said nothing. "I know you've always seen me as a child, even now. But this has nothing to do with Midorima or my personal distaste for you.

"This isn't about us anymore. It's about the lives you've ruined with your own selfishness. Do you even realize the extent of the damage you've caused? Do you ever think about them? Oikawa and Iwaizumi. I'm not even counting their families and friends because then we'd be here forever." Sakusa narrowed his eyes hatefully. "Do you? Or are they just nothing to you?"

Again, Noriko said nothing. Sakusa had expected this. "No matter how much I hate you... I know you're not heartless. You can't ever take back what you did, but you have the opportunity to make things right for Iwaizumi-san and the rest of the victims."

She frowned. "What are you talking about? How could I possibly...?"

"All you have to do," Sakusa never wavered, "is talk. If not for the victims, then for yourself. This is your opportunity... to be free."

Noriko stared at him as if he were insane. "I'll only ever be free if I keep silent. My father's working on it, you know. You won't win—"

"If they win, then you lose."

She sucked in a breath. "What are you saying?"

"I know about her. I know about Hirakawa Shion."

All of the color left her cheeks. "No. No, you can't."

"Where is he keeping her, Hirakawa?" Sakusa asked, urgently.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop playing games with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about. It's because of her, isn't it?" She was starting to shake in her chair, but Sakusa pressed on. "It makes sense. It's all because of her! The moment you married Midorima, it should have meant freedom from your father. Yet, you remained under his thumb? Why? Because you were scared. Not for yourself, but for her. You were worried that she would meet the same fate as your mother—"

Noriko slammed a palm on the screen. "Shut up!" she screamed. "You know nothing! Nothing!"

"They say he beat her to death. It's true, isn't it?"

"He didn't!" The speed at which she was losing her composure was astonishing. "He didn't, he would never—!"

"Hirakawa." Sakusa sighed, crossing his arms. "Noriko. I already received confirmation from your uncle, Dr. Miyazawa. He autopsied her body and found signs of blunt force trauma and traces of your father's DNA. She didn't die from an illness. The evidence was submitted to court two days ago and is being reviewed as we speak."

Noriko sunk in her seat, eyes faraway. "No... No, he... He betrayed me...? Why...? Why would he...?"

"He didn't betray you," Sakusa said quietly, a crease in his brow. "He wanted to save you. Your uncle might be the only one in your whole family who actually cares about you. Listen, Noriko. I won't pretend to understand the hell you've had to live through. But one word from you, and we can make him disappear for good. Will you cooperate with me?"

She shook her head. "I can't. I can't, I can't... He'll kill her... He'll kill her, I know he will... No. No. We're going to win. Maybe I'll have to live like a slave to my father before he dies, but if it means she'll live, then I'll do it. I'll do anything for Shion."

"Liar. If that were true, she wouldn't be locked up wherever she is."

"At least she'd still be alive."

"An existence not worth living. Does your father hurt her? Beat her, like he did to your mother? Like he did to you?"

"Stop."

"It doesn't have to be like that anymore."

Noriko lowered her gaze, chewing on her lip. "I'm sorry. But... I can't."

Disappointment settled in his heart. Sakusa closed his eyes. I guess this is too much to expect from her. He'd encountered abuse victims before, and he knew how hard it was for them to speak against their abuser. There was only one thing left to do. Sakusa turned in his chair and said to the guard, "Bring him in, please."

"Yessir." The guard ducked out before coming back with—

Noriko's face fell. "Shintaro?"

Midorima didn't say anything as he took a seat beside Sakusa.

"You heard everything?" Noriko was stricken. "You..."

Sakusa tugged the blazer of his shirt to reveal a hidden mic. "He heard everything."

Wordlessly, Midorima took his earpiece out, setting it on the counter. "Noriko... I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you, in the end."

"No," horrified, Noriko pressed her hands against the plastic, "No, Shintaro, it wasn't your fault—I couldn't tell you, I—!"

The chair screeched as Midorima abruptly stood again, taking a few steps back. Then, to Sakusa's incredulity, he prostrated, his glasses slipping from his nose and his forehead touching the filthy floor. Midorima...

"Please," Midorima implored. "Let us help you."

"We'll make sure she isn't hurt," added Sakusa, unable to completely hide his discomfort at the sight of Midorima bowed down like that. "After this, he won't be able to hurt anyone ever again."

"Shintaro," Noriko begged, tears of shame sliding down her cheeks. "Shintaro, get up, please. Please."

Midorima didn't. "Noriko. For the first time in your life... Please rely on me."

Sakusa observed their interaction without much reaction. This was his last gamble. If she refused, he didn't know who or what else to use against her. Come on, he urged silently. Come on, Hirakawa. We can't win this without you.

Noriko brushed a tear away, taking a deep breath before exhaling. "Shintaro, get up. I... I'll do it.

"I'll tell you everything."


A/N: Okay so like this is officially a Death Note AU where Light Yagami never got the note and everybody lived yipee good for them but there must be balance in the universe so the HQ cast are shouldering all the suffering of the Death Note cast LMAO

Also yes, there was a Helluva Boss reference somewhere in the first section