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— Intentions —

22# - Written Knife
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"Realization hits you several times until you can't get up."
— D. Turney

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— A. Misaki

"Well," Usui laughed, albeit heartily. "Lock the door before you leave the apartment, Misa..." he said, without an ounce of worry. As his mouth opened once more to speak, Hinata shoved him into the doorway with controled temper.

"Move," he injected, mild furor etched onto his features.

Panic started to well up inside of me, constricting my heart in plain fear.

"Wait!" I yanked on Hinata's elbow. "What are you doing? What on Earth is happening?!"

"You heard me, he's accused of—..."

"On what grounds?! Do you even have an arrest warrant?!" I bit out.

His earlier concerned tone towards me sharpened. "I'm on the job, I have no time for your individual concern, Misaki," he pronounced disapprovingly.

My grip on him got tighter, before I spotted Usui's bright smile behind Hinata's scowl. Why the hell was this idiot even smiling in his current circumstances?

"It's alright, Misaki," Usui added with a light tone. "Just don't forget to lock the door. The—..."

He got dragged forwards in the middle of his sentence, crossing the door with Hinata pushing right behind him.

"The keys are in my jacket," he said, his voice reaching me before the door slammed on them. I wanted to yank it open and drag them both back here, but Hinata's behavior was strangely making me feel on edge. Restless, I started to pace around in his vast living room, around the large table.

That was, until my eyes fell on his laptop.

—

— U. Takumi

"Do you recognize this article?"

"I will not answer any questions until I have consulted my attorney," I tiredly worded for the umpteen time. My voice was as lax and confident as it could be, though I felt like I was in deep shit.

The tough looking police officer sighed once again.

Deep and serious shit.

"Fine, you have ten minutes."

"Thank you," I murmured. I didn't want to comment on how thick his skull was about the phone call thing, as it would probably drown me deeper in the sea of troubling troubles I was in.

I dialed my boss private phone. A glance upward and the tough looking policeman was still staring down at me, his bulky arms crossed over his wide chest. His eyebrows rose when our gaze met, as if meaning: "Did you expect me to give you privacy?"...

Impatiently biting the inside of my cheek, my fingers tapped on the flimsy table in front of me until my call was answered.

"Yes, Takumi? Do you know that we are currently on a week-end da—..."

The plastic chair squeaked when I sluggishly shifted upright. "I need my lawyer. Like... Now."

"Good Lord, you're finally taking your legal case into consideration!" he exclaimed before a small silence ensued. "Only... I am afraid that your case is being transferred out of our firm's hand."

I tried to keep my features clear, though a frown was warmly welcomed by my sanity. Swallowing, I faked indifference.

"What do you mean?"

He slightly hesitated. "It's... Well, your previous lawyer said he couldn't put up with you, in some ways... So he gave your case to an affiliated company."

"And... When was I supposed to be notified of this major change?"

A shuffling of documents could be heard over the line. "About a week ago, I believe."

"I see. So that's why I am aware of it only right now, Sir." I chuckled with clear aversion. "I'm currently initiating custodial interrogation. And I believe I am in need of judicial counseling, don't you agree?" I asked in a conversational tone.

Ushered orders to his secretary were faintly heard in the background.

"Of course," he replied, and I laughed at the obvious irony. Of course, he couldn't deny that. "I will contact the branch right away. I will see that they pick a decent one, so brace yourself. Don't say a word and wait for the day." His tone was suddenly grave. "Don't fail me."

"It certainly goes both way, Sir."

The line was cut short, beeps resounding in my ears in such a final way that I felt the weight of the world back on my shoulder. I dejectedly lowered my phone from my earshot, my eyes slowly bracing for what awaited me.

"Are you done yet?" Bulky-policeman asked with mock amusement.

"I suppose so."

"Let's resume, then." He gave a pointed look back at the article laying on the table. The article I wrote weeks ago. "Do you recognize this article?"

"I will not answer any questions until I have consulted my attorney," was my only answer for the rest of the day.

—

Spending a night in jail waiting for my lawyer wasn't exactly nice. Being woken up by a nudge of a policeman's foot was even worse.

"Wake up, your lawyer is waiting for you."

Still haggard and stiff from the sitting posture I slept in, my hand immediately came to rub my face. I wished to stay a little longer with my sweet Misaki I've dreamt of, but this luxury was seemingly denied from my rights.

The acute sound of his bunch of keys dangling made me cringe as he unlocked the cell.

"Get up, hurry, I have other things to tend to."

I slowly stood up, taking support on the railing. "Where are the restrooms?"

I emerged five minutes later, after a splash of fresh water to properly wake me up. He, then, led the way to the previous interrogation room before locking the door as he left.

An inquisitive gaze quietly watching me as I made my entrance, a tall man was sitting in the chair I occupied the day before. Looking through thick rimmed glasses, violet eyes perused me with hawk-like inspection.

"Sit," he curtly said. I obeyed, but mainly because standing was such a hassle right then.

He held his hand forward. "Sōtarō Kanō, your defense attorney."

"Usui Takumi," I shook his hand. His grip was firm, and somewhat severe.

"Now that niceties are compassed, let us discuss the main issue at hand. Your previous lawyer was incompetent." He paused for speech enhancement. "I am not. You will listen to anything I say, and you will do everything I tell you to. In return, you will get to win this case. Do you understand?"

I yawned, stretching my tensed limbs. "Yes, I guess?"

"Keep this behavior and I'm out of the door right this minute."

I stiffened, my eyes blinking and wide open. "Pardon me?" I choked, stifling my chuckle in a cough.

"I have no time to lose with ungrateful beings." He coldly glared, and motioned to stand up and leave.

"Wait, wait, my apologies," I quickly worded. He stared at me for a few seconds, before rigidly sitting back down on his chair.

"Do this once more and you will spend an additional night in cell, waiting for another attorney that would be willing to represent you."

Maybe he was what I needed. No bullshit, no sugarcoating and no patience. Only a freezing cold persona. Correction: he was what I needed to win this case. I curtly nodded, and he started giving me insight on my own data folder that, until then, I hadn't ever seen.

"I need information. There's barely anything in the file I got from your case. It's only for an extensive favor that I took it with me," he outrightly declared. "Here's the witness and exhibit list on the prosecutor's side. I want to know who they are, how are they related to you, and most especially to the case."

"What about the custodial statement, though?"

"It's already taken care of." I blinked in shock. How did he do that? I hadn't even been interrogated at all.

My jaw flexed, and I watched the individual in front of me in a new eye.

"Who are you?"

He smirked. "Just your average defense attorney." He answered to that as if any attorney could walk into a policestation, snap his fingers and get his arrestee out. Who was this godsent man?

Neatly black haired, tall form, and fitted suit, he could've been seen as nothing out of the ordinary. Only he carried this quiet aura of rightfulness and dignity, barely noticeable, and yet overwhelming.

"Enough futile blabbering. Here's the list. Libellee iii.3.1 is where you want to look at."

A stapled and thick document was slid to my side. One glance over, and I skimmed through the pages, until I reached the entitled sections.

"We need to get them to our side, so be precise," he said, taking off his glasses to rub his tired eyes.

Strangers' names were listed in rows, my confused mind disbelieving the fact that there could actually be so many people —I had never even met— making testimonies against me.

Nijita Hayase...

Hideki Suzuki...

"I remember interviewing few of them through phone calls, but nothing that you could call offending in any way was discussed." My eyes kept reading the names with perplexed wonder.

"What you believe is harmless can be twisted in statements you wouldn't consider as honest, despite its accuracy. You do know that better than anyone else, I believe." I glanced over and noticed that he had my resumé in his hands. Journalists often played with the truth, after all, and I couldn't help but agree.

Turning to the next page, there was only the end of the list, barely reaching mid page. Only, my eyes didn't gradually read the names.

It didn't.

It jumped right onto a surname in the middle of the remaining list, despite it being concealed among its peers. The lenghty list didn't matter anymore. Highlighted by my conscience, it faded all the other names away.

Had he handed me a plain white paper with this, written right in the middle, it would have delivered the same effect.

Ayuzawa Misaki.

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Author's note:

;-;

Can you guys hear the sound of his heart breaking?

Love you people. I didn't know whether I should've updated this story first or my other one. So I just went with the flow x) !