November 3rd, 2019
Weather reports said it would be snowing early this year. Sakusa Kiyoomi could already feel it in the air, though any snowflakes were yet to descend from the sky. He stood with Miya Atsumu in the middle of Shinjuku Ni-chōme, Tokyo's most prolific gay district. It was rather unassuming during the day, looking like any other neighborhood, which Sakusa supposed was for the better. He didn't want his eyes sullied by any sort of PDA—this was, after all, an area known for its cruising boxes.
"I still don't understand why we had to come here of all places," Sakusa said as he waited for Atsumu to stop stooping over his phone.
"I told ya, Omi-Omi, they have the best drinks around here! I heard from Tachibana, who heard from Miyamura's cousin's wife—"
"Alright, I get it."
Sakusa smiled, burying his face into his fluffy scarf under the pretense of being cold. Noticing, Atsumu drew him close, fumbling with Sakusa's gloved fingers before managing to find a hold. Ever since Atsumu had started earning money and standing up on his own feet again, he'd been much happier.
Once Atsumu finally got his GPS working, they made it to the bar without any issue. He let Atsumu take the lead in ordering the drinks, content to sit at the bar in silence next to him and zone out for a bit.
"So how goes it?" Atsumu grinned that silly grin of his, resting his cheek on his palm. "Any interestin' cases, prosecutor?"
"It's been rather dull, actually," Sakusa replied, slouching. "Nothing worth mentioning."
"But that's good, right?" Atsumu said, because he knew that Sakusa's definition of interesting cases typically involved something depraved, like murder or kidnap.
He grunted in affirmation. "It's not just me. The entire office is going a bit stir crazy, especially with Christmas coming up." It wasn't a holiday Sakusa celebrated—he normally spent it holed up at home, which was more than fine. For Sakusa, Christmas was just the few days he got to unwind before diving straight back into a never-ending workload. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, crime rates also tended to exponentially increase in the days that followed New Year's Eve before going back down, which meant more work for everyone. "It's not usually this quiet. That normally means that all the crime will come flooding in in January."
"So you guys want more crime?"
"If it means steadying the post-Christmas flow, yes."
Atsumu chuckled. "Be careful whatcha wish for."
"It's not that serious. We know that crime almost always means that there's a victim."
Their drinks arrived. Sakusa blinked at the steaming liquid, surprised that it wasn't alcohol but rather—
"They have the best coffee around here," Atsumu stated.
It was a bit strange, sitting at a bar drinking coffee, but Sakusa didn't question it. He inhaled the aroma, nostrils flaring. Then, carefully, he took a sip. It was creamy without being overwhelmingly rich, and the flavor was delightfully subtle. "It's good," he agreed.
"Heh. Never let it be said that Miya Atsumu has bad taste." Atsumu winked. "After all, I'm datin' you."
Sakusa opened his mouth, then closed it. "I—You—Why."
"Aw, come on. You know why."
It was a long story, really. One that hadn't yet seen an end to.
He stirred his coffee; when he finished, he held the teaspoon over the mug, letting the caramel liquid drip back down slothfully.
June 24th, 2018
Their plane landed in Tokyo a few hours before sunset. "Wifi," Atsumu was singing, off key, as they ambled to the arrival hall. "Wifi, wifi—goddammit, where is the fuckin' wifi?"
Sakusa, who had his face almost entirely covered by aviator sunglasses and a mask, trailed a step behind the blond. "We'll be home soon," he said mildly. "You don't need the airport wifi now."
"I need to update my followers," Atsumu argued, shaking his phone. "Come on—work, damn you, work!"
"You mean all twenty-two of your Tweeter followers?"
"I'd definitely have more I posted my face."
"But you wouldn't do that, right?"
"Over my dead body."
Yeah, I thought so. Sakusa stared at the back of his head, spacing out. No way would Atsumu ever want to have more pictures of his face posted on the internet. Maybe the scars had faded, but they still ran deep. He sighed through his nose, brow crinkling. He deserved better than this. Miya Atsumu could've owned the world, but all he had was him. Sakusa—a lone planet circling a dead star.
"Holy shit!" Atsumu's crass exclamation snapped Atsumu out of his reverie. "Omi, look!" He shoved his phone into Sakusa's face.
"A job interview?" Sakusa mused as Atsumu retracted his arm.
"It's at six!" Atsumu was grinning. "I need to dash—the restaurant's on the opposite side of the city."
"Ah, I could give you a ride—"
"No way! You need to rest up. Plus, yer house is way too far from the place. Don't let me keep you from the shower I know ya so desperately want, Omi-Omi."
It was true that Sakusa's skin itched for a hot shower. But he didn't think he would mind driving Atsumu to his interview. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Wait, he wanted to say. You're not a bother to me. I don't mind. Let me take you there. The sentences stuck to his throat like flies and honey. "I... About yesterday—"
Atsumu was already on the phone, calling up the manager to confirm his interview. "Hello? Is this Kurumi-san? Yes, hi! I'm Miya Atsumu, I'm just callin' to..."
Sakusa watched as Atsumu drifted further and further away from him. I feel like I should say something here. But what? He'd never been good at translating his own feelings to words. He only knew that there was a horrible knot forming in his chest as the distance between him and Atsumu widened.
"I'll see you at six."
"Atsumu."
"Yes, I'm wearin' closed shoes."
"Atsumu."
"Bye, Kurumi-san."
"Atsumu."
"Omi-Omi!" Atsumu gave him that brash grin of his, but Sakusa was still frowning. "I toldja I'd get at least one of the jobs. You're happy, right? Soon, I'll be out of your hair. When I get my own place, I'll invite ya over. How's that sound?"
His chest tightened again. "Atsumu—"
"Don't worry, I'll make sure ta clean up before ya faint from all the house dust. But I have to go now, and—"
"Why are you being like this?"
Atsumu froze. "What?"
"I said," Sakusa stepped closer, "Why are you being like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're saying goodbye." Sakusa lowered his gaze.
Atsumu palmed the back of his neck. "I just didn't wanna bother ya... You've already done so much for me. I can't keep on burdenin' ya forever. If there's anythin' I hate, it's not bein' able to stand up on my own two feet."
"You're not a burden," Sakusa told him. "But I understand. I just want to let you know... You don't have to rush with me. For me. You can take your time."
"After what happened yesterday, don'tcha think that I've put this... unfair pressure on ya?"
Right. What happened yesterday. They probably shouldn't gloss over it too much. Their relationship had been sexual for a while now, but Sakusa had never been so intimate with another person until last night—and all they'd done was fall asleep beside each other. In a way, it scared him. The only other man he had ever felt this way about was Midorima, and that to say that that had ended in disaster was putting it lightly. I'm not sure if I have the confidence to like you yet, but I can't help but do it anyway. "No," Sakusa answered honestly. "If you want to know the truth, it was cathartic, almost."
"I'm not pretty when I cry."
"True."
Atsumu huffed. "Oi. Ya weren't supposed to agree."
"I don't mind, though," Sakusa continued without batting an eyelash. "Looking at such an abomination... I don't mind."
"You really have a unique way with words, Omi-Omi. Should I be offended or touched? Hm."
"You're pretty 'unique' yourself, Atsumu. And by that, I mean dreadful."
"Watch it, or I'll start callin' ya Kiyoomi-mi on top of everythin' else."
Between a death threat and a snort, they shared a hearty guffaw. Perhaps Atsumu was an eyesore when he cried, but Sakusa liked seeing him laugh. It chased all the despondency in the world away for him. But, slowly, their lighthearted laughs were reduced into tired chuckles.
"Well," Atsumu said. "We can talk later at home. I really gotta get goin' now. And I mean it, Omi—I'm takin' a taxi. Go take a nap or somethin'."
Sakusa let him win this time. After everything that had happened on Saturday, Atsumu most likely needed to feel more independent. "Alright. Is there anything you want to eat when you get back?" If there was, he would have to shop for groceries.
"Nah, I'm good. Kurumi-san said she'll feed me some leftovers after the interview."
"That can't be healthy."
"Nope, but free food is free food. I ain't gonna bite the hand that feeds me anytime soon."
"Hm. Fair," said Sakusa, even though his hand was smarting. "I'll see you at home, then."
"Yep. See ya."
The knot in his chest was going to explode if he didn't say it soon. As he found his line of sight directly on Atsumu's back, he took a deep breath as best as he could through his cloth mask. "Atsumu, wait."
He turned. "Yeah?"
Sakusa's ears were burning red. Flustered, he lifted a hand to brush back a curl of hair, feeling terribly like a teenager experiencing his first love. "Nothing. I just want you to know..."
Atsumu tilted his head.
"That I like you... a lot more than you probably think."
November 3rd, 2019
Sakusa exhaled, a white cloud forming in front of his face. He tightened his scarf so that it was snug around his neck, gravel crunching beneath his shoe as he shifted his weight by the shop window. Atsumu was still inside, footing the bill ("Just lemme treat ya for today, Omi-Omi!") and looking good while he did it. Sakusa could attest to that—he glanced back inside more than once. There seemed to be some trouble with the credit card machine—Atsumu was turning his pockets inside out for cash which he didn't have.
He rolled his eyes. He would probably have to rescue his boyfriend soon. Sakusa's wallet was never empty—he carried his card with him at all times as well as enough bills to get by in situations like these.
Something cold landed on his nose, and he flinched in surprise. Snow? Blinking, he held his hand out. A single snowflake fluttered into his open palm, melting instantaneously. It seemed like the meteorologists had been right about the early snowfall this year.
A loose pebble tumbled along the path, stopping beside Sakusa's shoe.
He turned.
There, by the alleyway, stood a disheveled child no older than ten or eleven. He was wearing a white jacket which was stained with yellow and brown, the fabric starting to unravel at the hem. His hair hung over his eyes—the only way Sakusa was able to discern his gender was by the slightest bulge of an emerging Adam's apple.
The child lifted his head, staring at Sakusa's still form.
Was he, perhaps, homeless? He looked the part. Sakusa took a sharp sniff, scrunching up his nose. Smelled the part, too, the scent of an unwashed body crossing the distance between them with ease.
"Hey," Sakusa said, forgetting all about Atsumu for the meantime. He took a ginger step forward, reaching out a hand.
The kid scurried back, eyes round with terror.
Then, before Sakusa could do anything else, the boy spun on his heel and dashed down the road, disappearing around a corner.
Sakusa's arm dropped to the side.
What an unfortunate kid. If he'd stayed, Sakusa would've offered to buy him a meal and a hot drink. He really was a wretched being—the fact that he was skulking out here most likely meant that he had run away—or been cast out—by a brothel. Maybe his mother was a prostitute too busy scraping up her next meal to look after her son. Or maybe she was dead—killed by her pimp or a client. But it's strange. When their eyes met, he'd felt a connection—a string from long ago being tugged insistently. Why does he look so familiar?
"Kiyoomiiii!" Atsumu popped his head out the door, whining. "Ya don't happen ta have any money on ya, do ya?"
Sakusa sighed. "You already know I do. I'll pay this time."
Atsumu clapped his hands together gratefully. "Yer the best, Omi-Omi!"
As Sakusa opened up his wallet, he took the opportunity to ask the bartender, "I saw a kid outside. Do you have often get strays around here?"
"This is one of the safer areas in the ward," the bartender replied. "Not many of the homeless wander these parts. But I betcha that the kid you saw was Rae."
"Rae?" parroted Atsumu, leaning forward on the counter.
"He started showing up a few months ago. Really shy, but I managed to get him to open up to me once by feeding him some leftovers. But he chipped a tooth on a lamb bone, and now he won't come back in." The bartender huffed, passing his hand through his hair. "I want to help him, but he's a fast one. As soon as he sees me or other people, he goes out of sight. I've tried chasing him before, but I'm not exactly a cardio guy. Kid's got legs like a cheetah. Frankly, I'm surprised that he even allowed you to see him, sir."
"Where did he come from?" Sakusa asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "Do you know?"
"Not really. Like I said, he just started showing up. But I know another guy who held a conversation with him during the early days of his scavenging. Apparently, he's waiting for his grandma."
Atsumu cocked a brow. "In Shinjuku Ni-chōme?"
"Those were my thoughts, too. Not a lot of grandmas hang around these parts. Mostly men looking for a good time. Sometimes women, but mostly men."
His grandma? Truly, Sakusa had to wonder what the story was behind Rae. "Does he have a last name?"
The bartender shrugged. "If he does, I don't know it."
"It's sad, ain't it?" remarked Atsumu, sobering up. "His grandma never came back for him."
"Guess not... Can't imagine being abandoned like that."
Abandoned. Sakusa swallowed. We'd know all about that, wouldn't we? Especially Atsumu.
The conversation ended there, Sakusa leaving with his change and Atsumu in tow.
"Where are you going?" Sakusa demanded when Atsumu started heading the opposite direction of where they had parked. "The car's this way."
"Lookin' for Rae," Atsumu said seriously, peering around a garbage can. All he found was a rat that hissed at him before scuttling away.
Sakusa frowned. "Are you for real?" Maybe Rae's background had hit Atsumu harder than he first anticipated.
"I'm bein' realer than real right now, Omi."
The lack of cutesy nickname told Sakusa all he needed to know. Halfheartedly, he rejoined Atsumu, their shoulders bumping as they matched each other's stride. "He went around here if I remember correctly," Sakusa informed him as they made a turn around the building that Rae had vanished behind. He scanned his surroundings, keeping an eye out for a ratty mop of chestnut hair.
"How hard can it be to find one kid?" Atsumu complained after ten minutes of fruitless searching passed. "It's practically deserted here, so where is he?"
"Why do you want to find him anyway?" asked Sakusa, even though he already had a good idea of the answer.
"'Cause he..." Atsumu glowered at the adjacent wall. "I just do."
Sakusa smiled a little sadly. "Does he remind you of yourself?"
From the way Atsumu stiffened before relaxing, he knew he was correct. "I'm not delusional. I know he's not me."
"Of course not. But there's nothing wrong with drawing comparisons." He took Atsumu by the hand, squeezing. "We'll buy him some food when we find him. He looked half-starved when I saw him."
Atsumu turned to look at him, a small smile creeping onto his features. "Alright."
They circled the neighborhood block a few times, never sighting hide nor hair of the young child. It was already past noon, and Sakusa was just about ready to give up when Atsumu suggested checking the alleyways. It was a sound idea.
"I'm gonna search every nook and cranny," vowed Atsumu, pushing a crate aside to reveal a pair of cockroaches canoodling underneath. Sakusa jumped at the sight, cringing into Atsumu's side. "They're just roaches. Omi, ya big sissy."
"Shut up, Atsumu."
"Oh, trust me, I'm not complainin'."
The way Atsumu's arm wrapped around his shoulders made him feel warm.
"I—" Sakusa paused, nostrils flaring. That smell...
"Hm? What is it?"
"It's blood," Sakusa said sharply, standing up straight. "I smell blood."
Atsumu paled. "But he said this was a safe neighborhood. Maybe it's a dead animal. A rat or somethin'."
"I'm going to find out. Stay behind me."
Their positions reversed, Atsumu clinging to Sakusa like his life depended on his presence. Sakusa couldn't blame him—for almost all of his young life, Atsumu had been surrounded by death and despair. The only blood family Atsumu had left was his mother, Akari, and she had made it very clear that she no longer considered him her son. "I'm scared," Atsumu admitted, his breath hot against Sakusa's ear. "The moment some knife-wieldin' fucker charges at us, we both run, m'kay?"
"Right."
"Or—well, I mean—we—beat the shit out of him? If we can? I dunno, just a thought, 'cause, like, if he had a gun or somethin', we'd be screwed—"
"Atsumu, calm down. We're going to be okay."
Atsumu nodded tightly.
They rounded a corner and into a damp alley—
And halted.
No.
This can't be...
All of the color drained out of Sakusa's cheeks, and he could feel Atsumu freeze up against him, jaw set on his shoulder. It was a grisly scene—a tangle of limbs in a pool of blood. Some of the rats had already arrived—he could vaguely make out a face, its eyes half-eaten by the rodents.
"Fuck," Sakusa snarled, his stomach threatening to revolt. One, two, three, four—at least seven stab wounds on that one. The other one looks in even worse condition.
This was a murder.
Snow fell from the sky, slow and lethargic.
And Atsumu screamed.