Notes: help help as of this chapter I am VERY CLEARLY venturing into an area that I know absolutely nothing about.

Posting this for day 5 of Kuzuhina Week 2021 for the theme of Greed! (It's only very, VERY mildly "greed"-y though.)

I think this is probably the shortest chapter yet... And after all these months, too. Please forgive me! I hope you enjoy anyway!

Waiting for Rainbows
Chapter 21: I just never tried to open it, so I didn't know

With the gray sky brightening and streetlights blinking into the car windows at regular intervals, Hinata was finally able to take a better look at the wig that had been on his head until just a few minutes earlier. It was dark brown, almost black, and long—very long. Exceedingly long. He hadn't really noticed with most of it tied back behind his head, but now he could see that even if he lifted the base of the wig to the ceiling of the car, the wavy locks would still cascade all the way to the floor.

"Hey, so about this wig..."

"Hmm?" From where his cheek was propped against Hinata's shoulder, Kuzuryu shifted to look at the mass of synthetic hair in his hands. "Oh, you can keep that."

"Oh, uh, thanks... no, wait!" Hinata gestured awkwardly at the wig. "I mean... didn't this come from your sister's room or something? Are you really okay with giving it away like that?"

Kuzuryu shrugged dismissively. "Natsumi used it once, for like two hours. It's not like it's a treasured memento or anything."

Pekoyama turned in the passenger seat to glance back at them. "It's from her junior high school culture festival, correct? When she was the witch in the class play."

"Not that she even needed it," Kuzuryu snorted. "She was plenty witchlike on her own."

That was... a little more reassuring, but Hinata still wasn't entirely convinced. Kuzuryu, apparently, noticed.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I bet Natsumi would want you to have it. She'd think it looks hilarious on you."

"Wait, so I do look ridiculous in it?!"

"It was... a different look, to be sure," Pekoyama offered diplomatically.

"Which is exactly what you want in a disguise, yeah?"

Hinata's mouth twisted in uncertainty. "And how often will I need a disguise? Tonight was just a one-time thing, right?"

"Was it?" Kuzuryu's voice suddenly dropped the teasing lilt, his golden eyes seeming to flare with severity with every passing streetlight. "I can tell you that it sure fucking wasn't for me."

Hinata felt as if there were an ice cube dropping slowly, achingly slowly down his spinal column. Right. That might have been a new experience for Hinata, but for Kuzuryu... that hadn't been the first time in such a situation. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

And if he was at all serious about his relationship with Kuzuryu, it probably wouldn't be the last for Hinata, either.

There was still so much that Hinata was unsure about—what he wanted out of his career in the future, what he wanted to do about his current one, how he was going to go about making any possible changes happen—but if there was one thing that he knew for certain, it was that he was serious about Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.

Without another word, Hinata gathered up the wig and placed it resolutely in his lap. He supposed he'd be taking it home with him, after all.

Much later that evening, after a full day of relaxing with his boyfriend at the Kuzuryu household, Hinata finally returned to his dorm and tossed his overnight bag on his bed.

He unzipped it and pulled the wig out again, which easily took up a third of the bag with its volume. He had accepted it, accepted that he would likely need it again at some point, but what was he supposed to do with it until that nebulous time came?

Sighing, he knelt to the floor and reached under his bed. The dorm room was narrow, without much space in his closet for more than clothing, so he tended to keep storage boxes under his bunk for anything he had to keep but had no immediate need for. Having pulled out one of the boxes, he unhooked the lid and placed the wig gently inside, careful not to let it become wildly tangled up with everything else in there. As he drew away from the contents of the box, his hand brushed the edge of a paper bag, and suddenly it felt like Hinata's heart shuddered to a stop.

He hastily jerked away from the storage box as if he had been burned, snapped the lid shut, and shoved it back under his bunk. He recognized that the feel of that bag, of course; he actively tried not to think of that book, kept it where he wouldn't have to see it, where it would be little more than a mild threat haunting the edge of his consciousness. He didn't want to be reminded that it was there, a physical manifestation of the expectations, the overwhelming hope that Kuzuryu had placed on him.

"I want you to be a lawyer."

"You want to be a lawyer."

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, Hinata uneasily stood up, only to sink heavily onto his bed. No, no. Not that. He didn't want to think about that—it wasn't even worth thinking about. There was a reason he had purposely stashed it away where he wouldn't have to see it, would barely even have to think about it being there. Not when he had already done a life's worth of thinking about it years earlier, and had come to terms with the fact that the possibility was long gone. Going back and trying to reconsider just hurt too much—no, he didn't feel anything about it anymore, that was the whole point!

Covering his face with his hands, Hinata tried to take a long, calming breath through his nose, but suddenly the air in his room just felt too heavy, too oppressive to breathe, settling like a rock at the bottom of his lungs. Unsure what to do, but knowing that he had to separate himself from the situation as best he could, he got up and marched right out the door and into the hall.

He wasn't sure where he was heading, exactly, but he made his way down the hall and descended the stairs to the first floor. Part of him wanted to just go right back to Kuzuryu, despite being part of the reason he was falling apart in the first place, but that would be ridiculous, irresponsible, and goddamn he wasn't that needy.

Maybe a quick walk to the convenience store and back would help him calm down and clear his mind. Right. Some fresh air should help. On his way out, though, he passed by the dormitory lounge and paused, hearing voices from inside.

Hinata didn't often go out of his way to fraternize with his fellow dormmates. He was perfectly happy getting his dose of human interaction with the people of Kibougaoka and, more recently, those of the Kuzuryu Clan. He gave a wry grimace at the thought; all the more reason not to be hanging out with other cops, probably.

On the other hand... he was looking for something to distract him from his own thoughts, and some sort of socialization didn't seem to be a bad option. Curious to see exactly what he would find, he stepped into the lounge to take a look. He could only hope that no one could smell yakuza on him.

Inside the lounge, several other officers were engaging in various leisure activities—playing shogi, perusing magazines, and at one table close to the center of the room, Hinata found Ishimaru fretting over a group of men playing cards.

Hinata made his way over to Ishimaru, hoping that the familiar face would help him not feel too out of his element. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"Hinata-kun!" Ishimaru turned his indignant complaints on to him. "Can you believe this? They're playing poker—with stakes! As officers of the law, we shouldn't be gambling!"

"We're not betting money," Sakakura grumbled, in a tone that suggested that he had already explained it to his junior officer several times over—and Hinata suspected he probably had. "Just whatever worthless shit we have in our pockets. You want in, Hinata?" He glanced up at him from under his strong brow, his gaze more challenging than welcoming. "Or are both college boys too good to be joining us?"

Hinata's mouth pulled into a scowl; his immediate instinct was to decline, to just walk away. Letting Sakakura rile him up was the last thing he needed. The last time he had answered Sakakura's needling had resulted in a stern reprimand for Hinata and Kirigiri by association. Still, poker... gambling...

Hinata wasn't much of a gambler, of course. But after what had transpired early that morning, he couldn't help but look at the game in front of him as a small, rather benign way to be closer connected to the world his boyfriend knew as home.

"Hinata-kun!" Ishimaru hissed as Hinata pulled a chair to the table.

"Relax," Hinata assured him. "It's not a big deal. Just for fun."

"You buying in?" asked another officer from across the table. "You don't have to, but you can't claim any of the winnings if you don't."

Hinata glanced at the prize pot: a small pile of knick-knacks that seemed to consist mostly of a handful of cigarettes, a few energy drinks, and several expired condoms. Hinata didn't particularly need nor want any of that—he didn't smoke, and the rest he had his own stash of. Still, he shrugged and, mostly as a sign of goodwill, he pulled out his wallet to take out a stamp card for a bakery he had visited only twice and tossed it in.

"You know the rules for five-card draw?" Sakakura grumbled.

"Uh, yeah," Hinata answered, watching as the officer on his left dealt him in. "I used to play pretty often when I was... um, younger..." Which was true—he had spent many an evening in campus common rooms, playing poker with other students from in the law department until they needed to disband for the night, lest they miss the last train. There had been a time when it was nearly a daily routine, at least until for those first two years before Hinata had become more withdrawn.

He tried not to frown, afraid it might give the impression that he was starting off with a poor hand—which he was, but that wasn't the point.

Why had the law department been so into poker?

He tried to remember as he traded in three of his cards for new ones. Had it just been a coincidence that so many of them had developed an interest in the game at the same time? It was certainly possible—some kind of groupthink, a fad of some sort—but there was something about it nagging Hinata, insisting that it was more than that.

Had there been something he had missed? Some way that Kuzuryu's way of life could connect to what Hinata had once strived for?

Hinata ended the game with a rather pathetic Jack high card, and he shook the thoughts from his head. Maybe that was worth thinking about at some point, but not now. If he was going to think back on that time, it was going to be to try to remember what strategies he had employed when playing five-card draw in the past.

New hands were dealt and Hinata glanced at his own, quickly identifying the beginnings of a possible straight before glancing around the table at the other officers. There was more to poker than sheer luck of the draw, obviously; Hinata didn't remember being amazing at the game or anything, but he hadn't been bad, and certainly more consistent than relying on luck would have been, so he had to have used some sort of skill, right?

Statistics, maybe? Right, Hinata remembered being fairly good at hand reading. How had he done that, exactly? With a 52-card deck, there were a finite number of viable hands that could be created; that meant that, if he paid attention to how many cards his opponents drew, and taking into account which cards Hinata knew they didn't have, it should be possible to at least somewhat narrow them down further, right?

It would be a more viable strategy if they were playing hold 'em or another variation with a community pool, but even in five-card draw, it wasn't like he had to remain completely blind to the situation outside of his own hand. He could also make assumptions about his opponents' confidence in their hands based on how much they bet, though there was also the potential for bluffing. But that applied to other aspects of the game as well, didn't it? In that case—

"Hey," Sakakura said suddenly, startling Hinata out of his reverie. "If you're going to draw, then draw. Don't just stare at us for so long. People are gonna start to think you're up to something."

"He isn't!" Ishimaru shouted from just behind Hinata's shoulder, startling him again. "If you all insist on gambling then I'm going to at least make sure there's no cheating going on! So far everything seems to be on the up-and-up!"

"I'm not saying he's cheating," Sakakura sighed, rearranging his own hand. "But if he were to go to an actual casino and waste time eyeing up people like that, he'd be eaten alive."

"Hinata-kun would never go someplace like that!"

"Haha, yeah," Hinata laughed, hoping that it didn't sound too shallow. Going to an actual casino, huh...

Either way, though, Sakakura was right. If Hinata were to employ some sort of strategy calculating the likelihood of others' hands, then he would have to learn how to do it quickly while still accurately, so that the rest of the table wouldn't catch on. Ideally, it should come as naturally to him as breathing.

Putting that aside for the moment, he discarded two of his cards and drew a new pair of cards: the four of spades and eight of hearts. He had hoped for at least a ten-high straight, but a pair of eights was at least better than his high card from the first game. Predictably, though, it wasn't enough to win.

For the next hour or two, Hianta continued playing with the other officers, gradually getting the hang of the game again and polishing up his strategy. By the end of the night he had walked away with a grocery store coupon and two energy drinks. Technically speaking, he had also won three cigarettes and one rather beat-up looking condom packet, but the former he had chosen to give away and the latter found its proper home in the garbage.

He still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to poker that he wasn't seeing, though. Something that had been so appealing to him and his classmates in college, but he just couldn't remember what.

He hated to consider it, but maybe he was too afraid to try to think back to what it was.

Whatever it was, he wasn't sure if the casual games in the dormitory lounge would be enough to help him figure out out. And if they weren't, then the mystery would just have to stay just that—a mystery. The idea of testing the waters somewhere else—somewhere more legit, more real—

"Hinata-kun would never go someplace like that!"

Yeah. Right. He would never.

Hajime Hinata, the police officer, would never step foot into an actual gambling arena.

Notes: If all goes well, I'll have a Rainbows side story up (exclusively on AO3) for Kuzuhina Week day 7 on Saturday!