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Chapter Text

The flashing lights of the city whir by in a neon blur as he runs through alley after alley, dodging signs and fences and all the other junk people leave lying around. Like a couch.

‘A couch? Seriously?’ 

He quickly decides to switch his attention back to his current situation in favor of not crashing into a rapidly oncoming pole. 

The crisp night air cuts into his skin as he continues running, and he reaches up to his earpiece, its orange glow a stark contrast to its reflection in the jet black windows of the buildings he speeds past. A left, and then a right- the route he was meant to lead them overlays itself within his sight. Another left, it directs. The earpiece buzzes; his signal was cut. ‘ Shit, do they have a signal jammer?’ He huffs in frustration, sharply turning another corner. 

       “THERE HE IS! GET HIM!!”

A thundering voice bellows out behind him, far closer than he had anticipated. Affirmative shouts of “YES SIR!” follow shortly after, the thudding footsteps increasing to a crescendo. He skids to a halt as the oncoming shadow only grows larger and larger; a dead end. He was only supposed to gather intel. Unfortunately, he’d been noticed, and now he was paying for it.

 ‘Tch.’ He gathers as much energy as he can into his legs; his boots glow faintly, charging up just enough to propel him skyward.

In a flash, he’s leapt onto the roof of a building, the orange trail of light fading as he continues to run. His vision flashes yellow as the route demonstrates a missed turn; he clicks his tongue and shuts it off, shifting the full focus of his attention onto the situation at hand. 

The wind whips through his hair, hood long pushed down by the constant forward momentum.

He stiffens in alarm as the whirring of machinery reaches his ears; Sure enough, his pursuers had thrown themselves onto the same roof he currently stood on. Four people surrounded him, an assortment of mismatched weapons gleaming under the neon glare- knives, pistols, and the ominous hum of a blaster. Weapons they shouldn’t have any clearance for. He tries to back away as they all haul themselves to a standing position, his eyes darting around the scene to calculate the probability of not dying at the hands of nameless thugs, which was going down faster than he’d like to admit. The telephone wires glint in the neon lights; a bright billboard illuminating the space. The harsh lighting bounces off of his orange hair as he reaches for the pistol attached to his hip. 

 “Not so fast.” A low voice rumbles from behind him, grabbing him by the neck and putting him in a headlock. The pistol clatters to the ground, too far out of his reach to make a run for it. 

 “Damn it!” A grunt emerges from his throat as he struggles in his attacker’s grip, but it only serves to make him squeeze tighter; he’s well and truly cornered. His eyes squeeze shut as he struggles in the man’s grip, to no avail. 

“You really thought you could take us on alone? Brave... or just stupid.” The man who has him by the neck laughs condescendingly, his minions creeping closer. 

“Boss!” a lanky man moves forward to speak, a smirk further accentuating the unpleasantness of his face. Akito mourned the combination of genes that combined to make that man look the way he did. The lanky guy takes the pistol clipped to his belt, and points it at him. “D’ya want me ta finish him? It’d be a real shame ta not at least try this thing out, eh?” 

 "Not a bad idea. He’d make great target practice.” A masked woman in the back speaks up,  twirling her hair as she pulls out a throwing knife. A short, pudgy man next to her chuckles, an ugly grin pulling his lips from his teeth as he opens his mouth to speak. “There ain't a better way to celebrate the removal of another thorn in our side.” 

The boss shakes his head, grunting as he pulls Akito up, further constricting his airways. 

“Nah. Lemme get some info out of him first. I reckon he’s got some information that we need; can’t pass up an opportunity served on a silver platter like this.” He cranes his neck to look the younger man in the eye, and a saccharine tone laces his voice. “Whaddaya say? You spill everything you know... and I might let ya go. I think that’s a veeeery generous offer.”

He tightens his grip again, this time to press a sharp blade to his throat. “But I’m not very patient.” He pressed the edge of it to Akito’s throat, who was at this point gasping for breath, slightly blue in the face, as one tends to be when getting strangled by a man twice your size. “Spill it, or take it to the grave. Your call.”

 “...”

Akito’s face darkens as he grits his teeth, his mind moving through a million possibilities. His breath quickens as the threat of being surrounded sets in, as he struggles to gather more air. He pushes his feet into the ground and gathers as much energy as he can, and his boots begin to glow faintly once again, his arm guards dimly coming to life as well. The man’s grip is still tight around his neck, preventing any further movement. Sweat drips down his brow as his vision blurs, oxygen slipping away with every second.

‘Either I tell them what they wanna know, or I die. The decision is obvious.’

He opens his mouth to speak, the words coming out in a croak. 

"I… I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you what I know!” 

The head douchebag grins condescendingly, the admission of defeat cementing his victory.

“Great choice, kid. Now how about we-” 

He loosens his grip ever so slightly; but it’s enough.  Akito takes a deep breath of the crisp air, adrenaline surging through his veins as he grins.

“Huh. Didn’t think you’d actually fall for that.” 

The orange haired man’s voice turns sharp with mockery as he harshly twists forward, slamming the taller man onto the ground with a sudden burst of strength. His acidic green eyes glint in the moonlight as he pants harshly with the exertion, his vision slowly regaining focus. He pulls a serrated blade from his coat as he swings it right into the man’s side, blood spraying out in a grotesque arc as he twists it further in, the man’s body going limp from the sudden shock. 

       “Ghk--!!”

A frown paints itself upon his face as his tone darkens, and his eyes flicker to the remaining henchmen. He snaps his head up, and is greeted with the stunned faces of the minions as he pins the man down beneath his knee.  The blood pools on the floor as Akito rips it out, and confirms that he’s unconscious. A series of clicks draw his attention back to the other three, who aim their weapons at him. The pudgy man hesitates, and shifts away from the scene, likely running away to call for backup. The lanky man and the woman with the daggers shoot each other determined glances, before rushing at him from two directions. 

Akito’s enhanced accessories flare back to life, illuminating his palms with a vivid orange as he extends his energy into them yet again. ‘This is going to take a toll on me... but I don’t really have a choice right now.’ He exhales, and stands back up to face the rest. His hand trembles slightly as he turns his face from the sight below him. He clenches his fist to steady it, forcing his stomach to settle. Now was not the time to slip up. He steps over the unconscious man turning to face his other opponents. The resounding BANG of a pistol echoes between his ears, as he narrows his eyes.

He tilts his body to the side, the first bullet narrowly missing his shoulder. The silver metal reflects his stony expression as he adjusts his grip, and brings the knife up to deflect a dagger thrown at him from the front. The woman then lunges forward, her blade slicing through the air, just missing his eyes. Sparks flare as their weapons clash, the metallic screech complimented by the hum of the neon signs. From the corner of his eye, Akito spots the lanky man taking aim with a pistol. He narrows his eyes, an opportunity illuminating itself, as he grabs her arm, twisting sharply, yanking her into the bullet’s path. Her body jerks as the shot connects, travelling clean into her stomach, her piercing scream resounding through the chaos. She convulses, desperation filling her eyes as she stares at her comrade in shock; tears of agony escape her eyes as she tries to suppress the instinctive reaction to the sheer pain. 

The man’s eyes narrow, heart thudding loudly in his chest as he shoots twice more, only to have those bullets join the first as Akito continues to move her into their paths. The woman’s eyes are glazed over and lifeless by the fourth bullet.

He blinks hard, sweat beading along his brow as pure fear creeps itself into his bones. He grits his teeth, and prepares to fire again, aiming the pistol at Akito… only to find that the area had gone dark. Or rather, that his vision was completely encapsulated by the body of his comrade as it flew towards his position. Akito flashes in from behind the man with unimaginable speed. He doesn’t even have the time to react before his vision whites out from the serrated knife being plunged into his throat. He coughs harshly, blood dislodging itself from his mouth, before slumping down on the floor with a thud, the woman’s body having lodged itself underneath him.

       ‘ Shit... we underestimated him..’

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Akito stands up, wiping the splatter of blood from his cheek with the palm of his hand. Frankly, the sight of that much blood still made him queasy, even though this was far from his first time dealing with such things. It never really got easier, no matter how many missions he was sent out on. A flicker of guilt makes its way through his mind, but he quickly crushes it down. They had been ready to kill him too; there was no room for empathy here.

       ‘ Ugh... I’m gonna need a real good shower after this.’  

He catches his breath and tries to refocus his mind as he scans for the third henchman, who’s nowhere to be found. He lets out a shaky exhale, before running a steadier hand through his hair. 

'He must’ve ran away. Unfortunate, but not unexpected. I’ll have to track him down later. For now... I should deal with the aftermath of this mess.’ He reaches up to his earpiece again, ready to ping headquarters and report back on the status of the mission; Kohane and Nene were sure to be worried after his signal was cut out.

He blinks a couple of times, hand hovering over his wrist display as his earpiece rings headquarters. His vision is still slightly blurry from the prolonged asphyxiation- and perhaps that’s why he failed to see the pudgy man crawl back out from behind him with a blaster. By the time he registers the sharp whirring of a charging energy beam, it’s too late. He spins around, eyes wide, and it’s all he can do to cross his arms in front of him to shield himself from the pure beam of energy.

The pudgy man screams out an unintelligible mess of words, his voice cracking from the sheer volume. The blaster’s whirring peaks to an ear-splitting crescendo, and a resounding blast, comparable to the sound of thunder, echoes out in the area, mingling with the ever bustling noise of the congested city traffic.

The heat from the oncoming blast hits him first, burning the edges of his coat as the resulting hot air whips his hair back. A second of pure silence passes before a bright stream of light slams straight into him, launching him straight back off the edge of the roof with bone shattering force. The smell of burning flesh permeates the air as he’s assaulted with lacerations from the shrapnel the beam dislodged. His mind is completely blank; he’s not even able to process the pain of the impact as he’s thrown off the roof like a ragdoll, straight into the city’s labyrinth of skyscrapers. For a moment, there was only the dizzying rush of freefall, the city’s neon glow blurring into chaos.

The sheer force of the blast was more than enough to make him crash straight through a window, tearing through his skin yet again. All he could hear was the tinkling sound of shattering glass, harmonizing with a high pitched ringing in his skull.  A pristine grand piano is the last thing he sees, his vision blurred and hazy from the impact. He rasps out a series of coughs, trying to expel the smoke from his lungs as he slumps onto the floor of whatever poor soul this apartment belonged to. A piano stood amidst the wreckage, gleaming as the moonlight filtered through the window. 

Akito coughed again, smoke stinging his lungs, as the darkness clawed at his vision. 'Damn. That’s a nice piano,' he thought, just as his vision blacked out.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Ten minutes later, the lights of the apartment flicker to life as the door creaks open.

Chapter Text

If you asked Aoyagi Toya how he felt about his life, he would answer with words of gratitude and humility. The clicking of cameras, his face plastered on advertisements and posters; it was a life some people could only dream of. Of course, he was obligated to answer with an affirmative. Anything else would just be ungrateful. His father’s demands, the repetitive cycle of his life; it was all for the title he bore as the youngest son of the Aoyagi family.  Ever since he was young, he had his path set out for him. Days upon days of practicing until his fingers bled served to hone his skills to be among the finest pianists in the world. It granted him fame, prestige, and success. There was nothing to complain about.

However…

In the depths of his mind, where he has no choice but to face his true feelings, he completely detested it. Every day was the same; learn a piece, practice it for weeks, perform the piece in front of thousands, repeat. If he messes up, his family will bear the shame. He was the prodigy; he had no room for failure.  

He thinks he had once truly enjoyed music, the faint memory of the warm feeling the melodies left in his heart vague and distorted. But as the years went on and the demands got higher, it was near impossible to play without being burdened by the weight of it all. Every note felt dull and monotonous, the repetitive thud of his fingers on the keys serving no purpose other than to please everyone but himself. As he flipped through a new score, the patterns drilled themselves into his mind, the muscle memory ensuring that his fingers moved how they were supposed to; he was everything he was supposed to be. Never doing anything else. Never experiencing anything new.

Sometimes, the cyclical torture left him wishing he could just leave it all behind and run away. 

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

He walked up the ramp of the lobby, keys clinking in his pocket as he rummaged around to fish out his ID. He directs a polite nod at the receptionist, scanning into the building. A kind woman with stern eyes, she welcomes him in. 

“It’s rare that I see you come back before dawn. Did your conference go well?”

He nods affirmatively, trying not to let his exhaustion show. He really just wanted to eat his leftover takeout and go to bed. Tomorrow would be another day of practice, after all. 

“Yes, it did. Have a good night.” 

The receptionist waves, a pleasant “You too!” echoing through the corridor as he resumes walking to the elevator. He pushes the button for the 25th floor, dropping his shoulder bag to the ground as he stretches out his arms. The conference had left him exhausted, the interviewer asking questions so repetitive they bordered on irritating. ‘How long did you practice this?’ ‘What will you be playing next?’ ‘What did your father have to say about your performance?’   It was the same thing every time. He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the ding of the elevator, and he steps out, walking towards his door and dragging his shoulder bag along. The frame of the door felt oddly warm to his hands, almost as if it had been heated by something, but he attributed it to the chilly air leaving his extremities numb. He shifts his keys to the other hand as he takes off his tailored coat, preparing to hang it by the door as usual. 

He shoulders his way into the apartment as the lights flicker on, revealing an apartment which could be the cover of a magazine, what with its sterile elegance and minimal decor. The muted tones of the furniture were designed to impress rather than comfort whoever lived there. In the corner, his grand piano gleamed under the soft moonlight, the sole piece that could garner any interest in such an impersonal space. 

Except. Something’s wrong. 

He knew his coffee mug had been upright and secured in its place when he left. It now laid shattered into ceramic remains on the floor. Similarly, books are shifted out of place, furniture that had once been perfectly straight now tilted at an angle. 

‘Was there an earthquake..? Or an intruder?’

He listens carefully for footsteps, but hears nothing. He musters up his courage to enter; It would be rather embarrassing to call the police, especially if he had just been paranoid, though he wasn’t usually one to worry about things like this. Plus, this building had excellent security; there was a slim chance that anyone had gotten in. It’s not like the window was an option either, what with his unit being so high up.

  ‘Am I that tired..?’ He wonders, rubbing his eyes, the momentary relief disrupted by the smell of something burnt. 

Burnt?

No, something was definitely wrong. 

Adrenaline surges in his chest as he sets his things down, leaving the door slightly ajar. He grabs a knife from the kitchen drawer, the clicking of the heels of his shoes on the ground echoing harshly through the space. He cautiously walks forward, scanning every corner. More and more things appear to be out of place the closer he looks. A cool breeze floats through the room; the inherent feeling of wrongness intensifies. He looks over to the furthest part of his apartment, the place where he kept the piano; where the floor to ceiling length window remained completely…shattered? And somehow melted???

His eyes drift further down, past the singed curtains and shrapnel, only to find an unmoving lump that appeared slightly singed. The tension lacing his muscles intensified with every step. 

As he moved closer to it, he noticed that the lump had a full head of striking orange hair. Knife still in hand, he kneels down to the mangled figure.

The lingering smell of smoke coursed through his nostrils once again as another light breeze brushed through the room, the curtains fluttering behind his head. 

‘What the hell. What the hell ?? Is that a body? Is there a body on my floor right now???’

The sudden shock left him speechless, eyes fixed upon the mass on the floor as he struggled to process the situation. His life, an endless cycle of complete monotony, had suddenly been interrupted by a smoldering body flying through his window- a stark contrast to the cold solitude he had grown accustomed to.  This was decidedly not the way he wanted to be introduced to something more interesting (but regardless, the thrill of this situation was something he knew he’d treasure for a long time).  He rummages around in his pockets for his phone, immediately looking to call the police; only to remember he had left it in his coat.

 He carefully steps backwards, deciding to go get it, only to hear a faint grunt come from the lump on the floor as it moves over slightly. He reaches for his coat, which had laid forgotten on the floor as he picks it up, and pats the pockets to find it. But his eyes trail back to the lump-- no, the person who is very alive on his floor right now , and all he can think to do is kneel forward to try to wake that person up. He hesitates for a minute. Should he? His fingers hovered over his coat pocket, where his phone lay within reach. The normal, rational choice was obvious; call the authorities and pretend this never happened. But strangely, something held him back, a quiet yearning that made him think.. 'Not yet.' For the first time, his life had something, or some one interesting in it, and he wasn’t ready to let it go.

He lets out a sigh at how reckless he’s being. He drops the coat on the floor, close enough that it would be in reach if need be, and cautiously approaches the lump, the chilling breeze reinvigorating the smoky scent that had filtered through his apartment. Regardless, he kneels on the floor. He rolls the person over onto his back, wincing at the several scratches and cuts littering his body, as well as his singed outfit. The man looks to be about his age, if not a bit younger. Bright orange hair spilled across his face, streaked through with ash and dust. Dark soot mars his pale skin, a sharp and striking contrast. He has several piercings decorating his ears, as well as what looks like a shattered earpiece. It emits a faint, flickering glow against his skin, letting out a faint hum. It’s definitely broken, if the protruding wires were anything to go by. Similarly, there are more glowing components to the man’s outfit. These definitely weren’t clothes for daily wear. There are burn marks along his hands, and shards of debris lodged in some cuts. He winces; whatever happened must have been very painful indeed. He furrows his brow, and decides to try to shake the man awake.

Actually, wait. No. That was a terrible idea. He belatedly realizes that perhaps crashing through a window would probably break at least a few bones. He decides to simply maneuver him as little as possible so that he would be lying on his back. The safest possible option. He checks his breaths; still shallow, but at least consistent. The next step is first aid...right? 

He moves away from the man on his floor, and once again surveys his surroundings. The window is completely ruined; shattered in some places, melted in others. Debris littered the floor, evidence of the violent crash that had shattered both the glass and his peace of mind. He briefly wonders if this is an incident insurance would cover. He’d have to look into that. A brief shudder runs down his spine after imagining what his father would say, if he found out that Toya was being this reckless on a mere whim. Probably something along the lines of tarnishing the Aoyagi name.

He returns shortly after with the first aid kit, as well as a glass of water. He wasn’t sure for who, honestly. As he turns to face the spot where he laid the man down, he startles to find him sitting up and leaning back on his elbows, with piercing green eyes staring him down. He looks like the effort it took to remain in that position was agonizing, but the man remained silent, and alert. He stops in place, unsure of what to do next. His eyes nervously flicker around. What had he been thinking? He had no idea who this person was. If anything, he could be highly dangerous and-

The man lets out a startled shout shortly after and crumples back down to the floor, the sudden movement  combined with the effort of sitting up in his condition far too much. The pain has him keeling back over on the ground and breathing heavily. Toya instinctively rushes forward to help support the man back up. He finds himself drawn to his eyes, impossibly green and full of fire despite his condition, as they slowly move over to look at him. The man takes deep breaths to attempt to alleviate the pain, and Toya offers him the water. 

The man takes it gratefully, and downs it in one go, gingerly wiping his mouth with his singed sleeve as he stares Toya down. 

“So-”

“Um-” 

They both speak at the same time, cutting the other off. 

“You can go first-” 

“Ah, it’s fine, sorry-”

They both huff a small laugh; the man with orange hair runs a hand down his face before looking up at him again with a tired, yet relieved, expression. 

“I guess I should say thanks, first and foremost.”

Toya’s mind is still reeling from the fact that the thing he thought was a body on the floor turned out to be very alive and less injured than anticipated. Perhaps the plush rug had helped with that. 

“It’s…fine? I suppose. Um.”

He sighs, not really sure of what to say next. What are you supposed to say when a beautiful man crashes through your window?! No interview could have prepared him for this!!

“Right. Okay. I’m alive. You’re still kinda shell shocked. That’s fair.” He winces as he coughs again, hand pressed to his chest to soothe the pain. The lacerations burn like hell, and every movement takes ten times the energy it normally would. The pain is almost unbearable, but he grits his teeth and powers through. 

“Are you..okay?” Is the first thing to leave Toya’s mouth, as he finally regains enough agency to respond with a coherent sentence. Mentally, he kicked himself. Anyone with eyes could tell that someone who got blasted through a window wouldn’t be okay.

The man on his floor stares at him with widened eyes, unsure of how to respond.

“ Wait , no. Sorry. That was a dumb question. I’m not very… used to situations like this. “ He quickly rectifies his statement, pressing a hand to his forehead. 

“Ah- no; don’t worry. It would be more concerning if you were. Used to situations like this, I mean.  I should probably explain myself first.” The orange haired man speaks up again, deciding on what to say next. 

“Right. So, my name is.. Akito. “ He hisses in pain as he moves his torso slightly. “Ugh…, uh, think I crashed through your window. Damn. Sorry about that. I’ll pay you for it, and any other damages.” He winces a bit, having the decency to look ashamed about the situation. “And..thank you for not immediately trying to kill me?” The man’s eyes travel over to the knife which Toya had set down near the first aid kit. 

Toya startles, wincing at his carelessness. He forgot he had left that there. He picks it up, placing it behind him. He makes sure it’s still within arm’s reach, should it be necessary. 

“No, no- I’m sorry. I thought there was an intruder so I-”

“Technically, I am an intruder. It’s cool-- reasonable reaction. I swear I’ll be out of here as soon as possible. I think I just- ugh.. need..a minute. Sorry.”

Toya shakes his head, trying to set his thoughts straight again. Leaving the knife out had been careless. He needs to calm down as much as he can… But it’s proving difficult, especially with how nonthreatening the man seems. 

“Uh, right. I’m… Toya. Nice to meet you, I guess?” His voice lilts up at the end of his statement, the absurdity of the situation making him want to laugh, but that would surely be inappropriate, so he keeps it in.

“A pleasure to meet you t-” Another coughing fit makes its way up his throat, and this time, the pain seems to be too much to bear. The man’s eyes prickle with tears, and he falls back down to the floor as he gasps again. His voice is raspy when he speaks next-- “Sorry. Sorry, just give me a minute and I’ll be out of your way. Ah- also I’ll give you my account number- just request the amount in damages and I’ll pay you-” Another set of coughs escape him, as Toya determinedly starts sifting through the clear box. 

“It’s really fine. I can pay for it. Please sit up.” He unscrews a small blue bottle, pouring four pills into his hand, holding them up to Akito’s face. “Here. Painkillers. Do you think you can swallow?” 

“Yeah; thanks. I appreciate it.” After shifting himself back up briefly, He takes them from his palm; cool to the touch against the heat of his own hand, and swallows them all as he waits for it to take effect. “And seriously, I’ll pay you for this. It’s my fault anyways.” 

Toya lets out a sigh of acquiescence, not wanting to start an argument when the man was already so injured. He rummages around in the box again, gesturing for the man to present his injuries so that he could at least treat what he could. The conversation lulls to a halt, the man’s labored breathing filling the silence as Toya sits there, peeling more bandages and slathering more neosporin on his cuts. The man winces everytime, but he remains complacent. Soon enough, the man looks up at him again. “So.. you play piano?” He asks, jerking his chin towards the piano, which remained in pristine condition. 

“..Yes, I do.” 

“That’s awesome. I bet it’s fun.”

“Not really. Frankly, this situation is far more exciting."

“..I guess that’s fair. But it’s so well maintained. It looks like you care for it a lot.”

“I do use it a lot. But it’s not exactly fun for me.”

“Ah, so you’re disillusioned. I get it, I think. ”

“..I suppose you could say that.” Silence overtakes the conversation. Again, Akito is the one to speak up.

“..Hey. Are you good? You spaced out there for a second.”

“Yes, I’m fine. My apologies; I simply got distracted for a moment.” He closes his eyes. This wasn’t the time to get caught up in his own emotions. The momentary fear of being thrown back into the same routine he had endured for years is pushed to the back of his mind. He’ll enjoy this moment while he can. He notices that he’s out of band aids. He closes the first aid kit, and pushes it to the side. Akito lets his eyes linger over the bandages for a moment before his gaze flickers back to Toya.

“You talk so politely…” He huffs out a laugh. “ Don’t apologize. That’s my job right now.”

“I see… Is my speech too formal?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. You just sound like you’re on your best behavior.” 

“I suppose I do, don’t I…Ah. I meant to ask. How did you get blasted into my unit?” He tilts his head curiously, the question having burned in the back of his throat for a while now.

“That’s a great question. He caught me from behind, cause I let my guard down like an idiot. I don’t do this often, I swear.” Akito says, very nonchalantly. 

“I see. Are you in a dangerous situation?” His concern is only growing larger by the minute. Maybe he should have just called the police.

The other man lets out another laugh at this. Toya is mildly offended.

“Nah, I’m fine. It’s just work, y’know how it is. I’ll be out of your hair soon. It’ll be like this didn’t even ..happen… though.. You’re really nice…” His eyes start to glaze over, and his lids flutter shut. Toya’s eyes widened in mild surprise, his brain more than a little baffled by his words. 

Akito drifts off into sleep mid sentence. 

‘Oh, the medicine must have kicked in.’ Meanwhile, his mind processes the implications of his work being this dangerous. What is he, an assassin? He doesn’t think a regular office job would have life threatening situations in its job description. The words he said just before drifting off rattle around in his head as well. Maybe he was being too nice. He shouldn’t trust an unfamiliar man under suspicious circumstances, let alone let him stay overnight.

He sighs again and picks himself up off the floor, mentally debating between letting him sleep, or discreetly calling an ambulance. Perhaps it was better not to get involved with the man, especially if his job was somehow this big of a risk. And it didn’t seem like he was in life -threatening condition, but moving him could make things worse. Also… he didn’t want to see him go just yet. Those final, hazy, words lingered, their warmth carving through the numbness he had long grown accustomed to. 

He settles for draping a blanket over him. He glances at the mess his apartment has become, and decides he’ll deal with it in the morning. The clock reads 3:00 am, and he lets out a stuttering yawn, the exhaustion coupled with the absurdity of the situation hitting him again all at once. He decides to pull out another blanket, and climbs onto the couch. Just in case someone crashed through his window again. 

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Chapter Text

The first sensation to make itself known to Akito was sheer pain. A deep, all-encompassing pain that lit every nerve on fire, spreading jaggedly through his ribcage and down his spine like a pure lightning. Every twitch of his fingers; even the heavy thud of his eyelids as he squinted up at the ceiling, felt like a shockwave raging through his skin. The very thought of movement made him flinch; a raw burn catching against the fibers of his singed jacket making him hiss sharply, the sound muffled against the fabric of the couch he rested on.

He laid there, heaving for a solid minute, eyes finally adjusting to the soft light that filtered through the torn curtains, casting a warm glow throughout the rooms. The fragmented reflected glittering specks of light onto the ceiling. His eyes drifted over the room as his brain slowly caught up with his body. 

White ceiling. Tasteful decor. Definitely not his place.

Akito squeezed his eyes shut once again as his mind raced to fill in the blanks. He moved his hands, but the raw flesh brushed against the fabric, and the resulting agony set his memories right back into place.

“Ugh.”, he groaned, very intelligently. 

He hissed again, not just from the physical pain, but from the memory of being blasted through a window. The sheer embarrassment that came with being sprawled out on the floor like a dishrag while causing about a thousand inconveniences for the guy who actually lived there. And then.. God, had he passed out? Seriously??

The sheer indignity of it had him attempting to bury his face in the crook of his elbow, only to remember that all his muscles still felt like a live wire, face contorting yet again as he tried to hold back his shout. He turned his neck- which thankfully, remained mobile-, catching sight of that guy- Toya?- 's dual toned hair peeking out from under a blanket as he slept peacefully. 

Honestly, it was amazing that he had not only not called the police, but had also fixed him up. He flicked his eyes down to the bandages on his wrist. Impressively precise, for a civilian.  

‘ They’re piano themed...”

He feels his mood lighten slightly, but the act of kindness (or sheer naivete) settled onto his shoulders in the form of guilt. He really didn’t want to bother this guy any longer. He seemed too nice for his own good. Frankly, it was concerning that he let him stay the night so easily. Regardless, he should really leave. Like, right now. 

He had no idea what the repercussions of his actions were going to be. He’d gone way off the course of the plan. Plus, he had no clue what happened to the asshole who blasted him off the damn roof. There were too many variables, and the last thing he wanted was to put this dude’s life at risk. He’d probably already scarred him for life. And most importantly… his earpiece. He was absolutely going to get his ass beat by An, and he didn’t want to give her any more reasons to lecture him. Hell, she was probably counting the seconds since his last ping as he spoke. Actually, it was a miracle they hadn’t already sent out a search. 

He really hopes they didn’t send out a search. 

Doing his utmost to ignore the searing pain that thrummed through his body, and also to not scream in utter agony, he took a sharp breath, clenching his teeth as he heaved himself into a sitting position. His vision swam, dark spots dancing at the edges, but he stayed steady, gripping the arm of the couch until the room stopped spinning.

“Khg-!!”

He took a sharp inhale, forcing down the urge to vomit. He could do this. 

‘I can’t afford to waste any more time. Just gotta… get to the door.’

Every single bone felt like it had bruises. He grit his teeth to prevent any noise, sweat beading at his brow as he stood up on shaky legs. His arms trembled with exertion as he focused his hazy vision on the exit on the other side of the apartment. 

Glancing back at the man sleeping soundly on the couch, he decides to leave at least a note of thanks. ‘Honestly, he’s too trusting for his own good…’ No way in hell was he gonna be the asshole who broke his window and left without saying anything. Once the message is shakily scrawled out onto a napkin, he focuses his energy back to leaning against the wall as he slowly trudges his way to the front door. Any more dawdling, and he'd probably collapse again. He committed the apartment number to memory before slipping through the front door, his hand gripping the handle to steady himself. He twists it with a shaky hand, and after a soft click , the door opens. 

The hallway looks absolutely endless. He bites his lip hard, trying to distract from the dull, throbbing sensation with a brighter, sharper one. He stumbles forward, heaving with each step. Though he wasn’t running the risk of waking Toya anymore, he still didn’t want to get caught in here, the suspicious figure that he was. He makes his way towards the elevator, and hits the button with his thumb. The fog in his head begins to clear with every breath of air he takes that doesn’t feel like it’s going to shatter his ribs; and it’s then that he realizes that he really has nothing on him. His gun was definitely lost to the blast. And his phone was nowhere to be found. His knives had flown from his hands during the ambush as well, leaving him with absolutely zero means of defense or communication.  His eyebrows furrow as he swears under his breath.

 The elevator beeps, and the doors slide open, revealing an empty interior. ‘Well, thank god for that, at least. I really don’t wanna have to explain myself to security.’   

The seconds blurred together, and what was likely a mere minute felt like an eternity. By the time it was over, his shirt was soaked through with sweat. He held onto the wall as he glanced over at the exit. A receptionist was seated there, as were two security guards. "Nope,” he muttered under his breath. He steps back behind the wall before they notice, eyes flickering around in search of another exit sign. His shoulders lose some tension as he spots the back door. He pushes the heavy door slab of metal open, vision whiting out from the exertion. Teeth clenched, he finally makes his way out as undisturbed as a man with injuries of his scale could be. The cold air hit him hard, immediately causing his eyes to water as he stumbled through the alley it had led him to. His vision blurred again, the world tilting at an angle as he struggled to stay upright.

‘Where the hell am I supposed to find a comm around here..? Fuck, I should’ve brought backups.”

He drags his feet forward, catching sight of a messaging booth standing tall just ahead, a stark contrast to his weak figure. He shakily slides the sleek door to the transparent capsule open, hitting the buttons on the holographic keypad with all the extreme precision of a man on the verge of collapse. He hits send, the relief short lived as his vision whites out completely. He slumps onto the floor, unconscious.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Toya stirs awake gracefully, his blanket falling off his shoulders and exposing him to the chilly air as he rubs his eyes open and yawns. He sat still for a minute, mind waking itself up when he remembered the events of the previous night with a jolt. He looks around, searching around for the man who’d crashed through his window the previous night. To his surprise, the room is devoid of another presence, and the blanket he’d lent the man is folded (messily, though it’s the thought that counts), and draped over the arm of the couch. He blinks twice, mind reeling at the thought of anyone leaving bedrest in that condition. 

Was this guy insane? ‘Well, seeing as he did crash through my window at 2 in the morning, I suppose that wouldn’t be an inaccurate statement..’ He muses to himself, as he stretches and pushes his arms out towards the ceiling. In all honesty, though, he had wanted to talk more with him. Yes, he probably was involved in something dangerous, but.. That’s the thrill of it, isn’t it? And he didn’t seem evil or anything. In fact, he had been rather pleasant company. “Not like that’s a high bar or anything, though.” He hums under his breath, folding his own blanket and moving to fold the other one. 

He looks over to the ruined window and takes a deep breath, deciding to save that headache for later. His own room was closed off, so it was fine. It was honestly a miracle that nobody had stopped by to question the gaping hole, but he supposed being so high up had its benefits. He kicks some rubble out of the way as he walks over to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. He picks out another ceramic mug from his cupboard. It was cat themed, with the words “Meowy Christmas!” printed on the inner rim. 

The mug had been a gift that his manager, Kotaro, had given him last year for Christmas. He hadn’t wanted to use it, preferring to keep it on display in his cupboard, but seeing as his only other option was in pieces… he might as well. His thoughts drift back to work, reiterating his practice schedule for the day in his head. He turns to place his coffee down, when a slightly crumpled napkin on the table catches his eyes. ‘That definitely wasn’t there before..’ He raises his eyebrows a little at the sight of a message scrawled in red ink. 

"Thanks for letting me crash. I'll pay for the window."

A puff of air exits his mouth as he smiles slightly. He neatly folds it, and tucks it into his pocket. The window would have to be fixed eventually..but it wouldn’t hurt to keep the note.

He glances over at the clock. It was only 7:30am? Typically, he slept in until 9, and he came back so late the previous night…and yet, he felt shockingly well rested. For once, he had free time to himself that didn’t have to be filled in with practice. His mood lifts, and he hums a tune while pulling the box of leftover takeout out of his fridge. He hadn’t had a chance to eat it yet, and he had heard this place had particularly favorable reviews. Once the microwave beeps, he moves to his couch, crossing his legs as he flicks the television on for background noise, the news anchor’s voice droning on as he opens up the most recent chapter of the thriller web novel he had been following. His eyes drift across the screen as he soaks up every word, when he’s yanked from his thoughts by the news anchor’s voice. 

“Authorities are still searching for the body of the unidentified man who was reportedly hit with a high energy beam and thrown from a rooftop late last night. Witnesses describe him as the prime suspect in the murder of three individuals earlier that evening, though the individuals in question were later linked to…”

Toya’s freshly microwaved takeout fell from his hands, body frozen in shock. He blinked hard, a high pitched ringing quickly filling his skull. The news anchor continued talking. 

“The man, described as approximately early to mid-twenties with distinctive bright orange hair and presumed dead, is held to several counts of—”

“Oh my god.” He blinked hard, not quite processing the information that had just presented itself to him. The smell of spiced Thai food wafted through the room from where it lay on the floor. 

‘Deep breaths. Deep breaths. This may not be the same guy. Maybe he had a twin. Maybe getting flung through windows is a more common occurrence than I thought it was.’ Toya fisted a hand into his hair, resting his forehead on the other as he slumped forward. 

“Right. Who am I kidding. I just hosted a murder suspect in my house. I just let a murderer into my house. ” Images of the bloodied stranger and the memory of the scent of smoke flashed through his mind as his leg began to shake rapidly. If he took any more deep breaths he was going to pass out. Actually, that might be preferable. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with this. 

Except he would, because he would wake up. Great.

His breaths were shaky as he clutched at the edge of the table in front of him, trying to ground himself. The puzzle pieces were clicking together, but his brain refused to accept the image they were forming. 

“But he was so polite, though. He even folded the blanket.” Surely cold blooded murderers wouldn’t fold blankets and pay for broken windows. He stood up, pacing around the room in an attempt to not combust on the spot. 

Toya flicked his eyes back to the TV, hoping for some kind of remediation, maybe an announcement that there had been a mix-up, and there was actually another, very similar guy who had murdered three people. Instead, the anchor moved on to show grainy security footage -very clearly the same guy- barely visible in an unmarred jacket, sprinting through the city with his neon orange accessories leaving trails behind him while he dodged obstacles left and right, as well as leaping over a couch left out in the middle of the street. 

He stumbled backwards, hitting the wall with the thud. He buried his face in his hands as he processed the irrefutable evidence. 

Oh god. If the press found out.. Or worse, if his father found out.. He shuddered, letting out in quick puffs of air as he slid down to the floor. “I’m an accessory to murder. I’m an accessory to MURDER .”  

A knock at the door had him twisting his neck towards it so fast it might’ve snapped off. For a split second, he thought it was the cops. Maybe they’d found out. Or worse, the man coming back to finish the job and make sure he was silent. But it was just the calendar on his wall, blown back by the breeze drifting through the shattered window. Would insurance even cover this? What if they called the police? How the hell was he supposed to explain away the fact that he had harbored a fugitive because he was bored ??? A weak, slightly hysterical chuckle escaped his lips. 

And then, because whatever god ruled this world had an awful sense of humor, the next program started, the smooth melody of a commercial cutting through the time he had allotted for his existential crisis. A polished hand reached into the frame, holding a sleek bottle of hand cream. The camera panned up to reveal his own face, smiling serenely while seated at a grand piano.

Toya’s hand shot out to turn the TV off.

“God,” he muttered to himself, “I never should’ve wished for a more interesting life.

Chapter Text

His eyes might as well be glued shut. Opening them seemed out of the question, but a very persistent and very irritating voice seemed dead set on ruining his brief respite. The poorly designed cot he had been tossed onto was starting to hurt his back, so he finally relented, forcing his eyes open. 

“I’m up already. Stop yelling, Shiraishi.”

“I’ll stop yelling when you stop getting your ass kicked on missions that were SUPPOSED TO BE SIMPLE.”

Akito sighs. He knew he was at fault here- turning off the comms had been a risky move. It could’ve ended way worse for him than it already had, so frankly, she had a point. 

“Fine. Stop yelling, will ya? My head’s still ringing.”

She huffs and turns around, her long black hair whipping back with the force, stomping over to a worn leather chair with numerous patches sewn in. “I’m just here ‘cause Tsukasa told me to babysit you and make sure you don’t go running off again. Just stay right there, and we won’t have any more problems, kay?” 

She pulls out her phone and starts tapping away, leaving him to his own thoughts. The flickering neon sign above her head read “Rad Weekend”; the name of her father’s organization. He’d apparently started it with her uncle and aunt way back when. They’d been dissatisfied with the way things were handled, cause back then, corruption was disgustingly rampant. Cops’d walk away from crime scenes, people would get extorted in broad daylight- you know how it is. They started cleaning up the streets themselves, and eventually joined up with a bunch of other groups to form their organization. It’d grown exponentially since, and now they were a proud subsidiary of the government, who could now legally kick ass. 

He looked around; worn posters and faded graffiti stained every wall. Just how he liked it. Clean walls were so boring. (Except for the ones he had glimpsed at Toya’s house. They’d seemed…peaceful, more than boring. He could appreciate that every once in a while.) He spotted the photo wall; he and An had practically grown up together, since both of them had wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps from a young age. Ken had initially been against it, but in an extraordinary show of teamwork, they’d manage to convince him to let them in on the fun once they became adults. The faint hum of electricity carried through the air, and he heaved a sigh of…something. The inevitable was about to occur. 

As if on cue, the click of boots against the polished floor echoed through the halls, stopping just before the sliding door that led to the room he was confined to. It opened with a hiss , and a very loud, very annoying silhouette stepped through the doorway.

“HA-HAH! I, THE GREAT ☆TSUKASA TENMA, HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR BEHEST!” He strikes a gallant pose, with a hand on his hip and the other in the air. Sparkles seem to float off of him. To Akito’s mild intrigue, it looks like he’d also set up a fog machine for his dramatic entrance, if the clouds of smoke floating into the room were anything to go by. 

Damn. He’s got a migraine already. He looks away, grumbling under his breath, and prepares his ears for the assault they were about to suffer. An laughs at him purely through her facial expression before turning to strut out the doorway, probably to mock him in front of her girlfriend. He despairs in the face of his fate. 

“Honestly, Akito; what were you thinking?! I’m ☆ ABSOLUTELY ☆ SPEECHLESS ☆. Charging headfirst into danger like that without informing me, your ☆glorious☆  leader! An insult most grave! Especially if your comms were cut. You KNOW the protocol is to fall onto a backup plan..”  He was already tuning out. How much longer was this going to take? 

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA ☆ ANY CONCEPT ☆ OF HOW RIDICULOUSLY, UNSPEAKABLY, OUTRAGEOUSLY RECKLESS THAT WAS?!☆ Honestly, who taught you to act like a low budget actor in a cheap play! It couldn’t have been me, as the world’s NUMBER ☆  ONE ☆  STAR!...”

His eyes drifted to the coat rack nearby. Maybe if he hit his head with it again, he wouldn’t have to listen to all this naggin. 

“...And now look at you! What if you’d died?! Who’s going to cover your mess next time, me?! Because I will! Because I’m your leader, your teammate, your ☆  magnificent ☆ guiding ☆ light, though  I’D RATHER YOU DIDN’T MAKE ME HAVE TO DO THAT!!!!!!!!!☆ ” 

Tsukasa dramatically collapsed into the leather couch. “That was ☆RECKLESS☆. BEYOND ☆ STELLAR ☆ LEVELS OF RECKLESS. But…” he sighed, brushing his blonde hair back from his face, “…as a ☆STAR☆, I understand sometimes you don’t get a choice.”

“...Are you done?”

“Yes. ☆”

“Cool. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Yes, but...” Tsukasa’s voice lowers to a normal range, looking oddly serious. “Go get yourself checked out first. Nene’s ready with the medkit. You came back with 3 fractures, a mild concussion, lacerations, and burns. Once you’re rested, I expect a full report on the details.”

Akito sighed. “I got it. Now see ya.” He waves his hand dismissively, and lies back down on the cot, pulling a blanket out from underneath. Whatever sedative he must’ve been on was doing wonders, cause he was out in the next five seconds. 

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

In a room off to the side, dubbed the “Command Center” (though actual commands were rarely ever made) a girl with pale gray-green hair sat at a cluttered desk in a cushy office chair, fingers flying across holographic keyboards projected in front of her fingers. Kusanagi Nene had graduated top of her class, eventually scoring a job in the cybersecurity sector before transferring over to this rickety, barely legal department. She often debates her own sanity, considering that it was objectively a terrible decision. In any case, she pulls up multiple monitors, data logs, and a very grainy CCTV image. Tsukasa had been standing (surprisingly) silently behind her, his brows furrowed while he surveyed the data she’d brought out. 

“Well,” Tsukasa broke the tense silence, voice low. “That was not very covert.”

The bright orange hair spilling from the hood of his jacket was very recognizable, even with the poor image quality. 

Nene sighed, forehead resting in her palm. “I told you we needed better uniforms. You let Akiyama design them.”

“She insisted on the “vibe" being just right!"

A beat passed before Nene swiveled back around in her chair, pulling up more data logs.  “We need that report from him. ASAP. He’s on the news , Tsukasa. If Ken finds out..”

“As a ☆ Future ☆ Star, I’m well aware.” Tsukasa huffed, hands dramatically on his hips. “This is a disaster of ☆ STAR-SHATTERING ☆ proportions.”

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Nene shoved a flashlight in his face. 

“Can you follow my finger?”

“Good morning to you too.” he grumbled, wincing.

“Seems like you didn’t hit your head too hard, considering you’re still this snarky.” She huffed, doing the rest of the checkup in silence. Worn bandages. Purpling bruises. Stitches barely holding together what was left of his dignity AND his sanity. 

“How’re you feeling?” she finally asked.

“Like shit.” Akito tried to sit up and instantly regretted it, the pain spiking through his ribs like a thousand stakes through his side. The sedative was probably wearing off. 

‘Right. The report.’ He recalls that he was supposed to give her one of those as soon as he woke up.

“Nene. They had tech they’re not supposed to have. High-grade stuff. Signal jammers, energy gear- I swear I saw a plasma knife on one of ‘em.

“...What?” Nene’s brows shot up as she looked up from her screen. “What do you mean plasma knife? The info we received said that they were low level contraband merchants??”

“I dunno,” Akito shrugged, wincing at the effort. He really had to stop moving his torso. “I was too busy trying not to die.”

Nene’s about to reply, when she’s interrupted by two sharp raps on the door. An peeked in through the doorway. “Hey. Kohane wants to talk to you. She was worried.”

Akito’s stomach sank. “Ah. Shit.”

Kohane entered the room a moment later, sitting down in front of him. She looked up, expression hard to place. It was somewhere between worried and disappointed, which honestly sucked. He knew she’d be worried, but he hadn’t thought it’d be this bad. 

“I told you not to turn off comms,” she said quietly, eyes shiny.

“I know.”

“You almost..”

“I’m sorry.” He turned his head, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry, Asuzawa.” She was a newer member of the team, but she’d grown on him pretty fast. Making her sad felt like kicking a really small animal, which wasn’t exactly pleasant. 

She breathed out. “Okay. Anyways, Nene wanted me to tell you that she managed to track down the guy who you fought with. He’s in custody now, but…you’re also on the news. As a suspected criminal.”

Akito blinked. “I’m what.”

Kohane pulled out her phone, flicking over to a saved screenshot. There it was; A blurry, chaotic snapshot of him mid-chase, one arm flung out, hood down, captioned: UNKNOWN CRIMINAL SPOTTED FLEEING SCENE OF VIOLENT SHOOTOUT. POLICE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR THE SUSPECTED KILLER. 

He blinks. Blinks again. Does a mental double, maybe even triple, take. Unfortunately, he’s a little too fried to come up with an intelligent response, so instead what comes out is a very eloquent “Oh. That’s cool.”

To be fair, though, what else was he supposed to say? Not like he could do anything about it anyways. Plus, he was a little too tired to throw a fit. 

“Take this seriously, please.” Kohane retorted. “Regardless of the circumstance, you still killed people, and they’ll probably try to twist it. Not to mention, that group is apparently far larger than we assumed. I’ve called an acquaintance who works with the local police, but it’s not certain that she’ll be able to do anything. Either way, you’re going to have to stay low for a bit.” She breathed out, and leaned back in her chair. 

Akito sat silently, unsure of how to react to the information overload. 

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Haruka answered the phone with a professional tone. “Kiritani speaking.”

“About that favor I asked…” Kohane said, hesitantly. 

“No worries. We’ve interrogated him. Sure enough, he’s a middle-tier runner for that group you’re tracking. Unsurprisingly, he claimed he only fired because the other guy “jumped him first.” Haruka relayed.

On the other end, Akito sighed. “Well. Guess I’m benched.”

“For two months. Until we can either get them off your trail, or until we catch the head of the group.” Tsukasa confirmed, stepping back into the spotlight with all the vigor of a hero of myth. “Which means… you’re a fugitive now! ☆”

Akito blinked. “Wait.. me?”

An chimed in. “Duh. You’re the one on the news.”

“Oh. Right.”

Maybe he was a little concussed. 

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Pacing through his now boarded up living room, Toya stared at his phone. He’d been about to call Tsukasa. He was reliable; basically the older brother he’d never had. Surely, he’d have some advice. Though; what was he even supposed to say? “Hi Tsukasa, I know I haven’t called you in months, but I need your help because some guy just barreled through my window and I think he’s a murderer.”

Actually, that might work. 

He’s just about to hit the green icon, when his phone vibrates on its own. An incoming call?

Bzzt. Bzzzzt. 

His father’s name flashed on screen.

He stared at it. 

.

.
Let it ring a couple times. 

.

.

.

Contemplated letting it go to voicemail. 

.

Got too scared to do that. 

So, he picked it up. 

Toya answered, his voice carefully neutral as he eliminated any tremors that were itching to surface. “Hello, Father.”

“Toya. I’ll be in town for your brother’s performance. I expect you to join me.”

Toya hesitated. “Father-”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Click. 

“Great. Just what I needed.” Toya muttered.

He didn’t hesitate to dial Tsukasa this time. 

Chapter Text

Toya stared at his phone, thumb hovering above the call button for five straight minutes. He’d rehearsed it. Over and over.

“Hi Tsukasa, I know I haven’t called you in months, but I need your help because some guy just barrelled through my window and I think he’s a murderer. Also, my dad is coming back to town and he wants me to join my brother’s next performance, and I think another interview may kill me. Please advise me if you can.”

...is what he meant to say, when the man on the other end of the line picked up. What came out instead, unfortunately, was more of a panicked, barely audible, "hitsukasaineedhelpsomeonejustactuallycrashedthrougmywindowandmydadwasalsocalling-”

On the other end of the line, Tsukasa Tenma, the ☆ World’s Future Star ☆ , should not possibly have been able to comprehend what was being said. However, as Toya’s ☆ Greatest ☆ Pseudo-Elder ☆ Sibling, he somehow managed to put together some of the sentences - if you could even call that a sentence. He had never heard the youngest son of the Aoyagis quite so panicked. Something must have been terribly wrong, so he decided to put on his best elder brother attitude, perfected through years of trial and error, and spoke calmly into the phone. 

“TOYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU DYING? AS A ☆ WORLD ☆ FUTURE ☆ STAR ☆ , I CANNOT LET YOU DIE UNDER MY WATCH!!! SO SAY THE WORD AND I SHALL ARRIVE!☆ ”

Perfectly executed, as always. He gives himself a mental pat on the back as he hears shaky breaths slowly become steadier on the other end of the phone call. Perhaps he’d finally get a handle on what was happening. He puts his keys back in his pocket, only having taken them out in case he really did need to go get him. 

“No.., I’m alright… I’m sorry for calling so suddenly.. and worrying you.”

“It is NO ☆ PROBLEM ☆  AT ALL! Your sudden sentence gave me quite a fright, though it was nothing I couldn't handle! More importantly, is everything alright???”

He steadied his own grip on his phone, just noticing the tension that had gathered in his palms. The star keychain attached to it clattered back to the side of the case, leaving a pleasantly jingling sound that brought him right back to the present. It wouldn’t do for him to go and panic, especially not when his little brother needed him! 

A deep breath came from Toya’s end. 

“So, what happened was…”

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Akito’s gone back to a blissful sleep, comfortable as one could be when hopped up on about a dozen painkillers. They’d moved him from his uncomfortable emergency cot to their makeshift “doctor’s office”, which was pretty much just a guest bedroom with a first aid kit tossed in. The other cot had been uncomfortable as hell; near impossible to sleep in. But here, his blanket was warm, there was a fan in just the right direction, the pain was finally easing up, and he could finally, finally take a well deserved nap. 

A sudden - BANG -  echoed through the halls. It sounded like a tornado was crashing through the hallways. A pit of dread settled itself into his stomach, and he wondered if he’d ever catch a break.

“ Tsukasa, he’s sleeping right now. Why don’t you wait until-”

Whatever kind and considerate soul started that sentence never got to finish it. 

The door to the room flew open, crashing into the wall so hard that he could feel his teeth rattle. 

Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was too asleep to deal with the loud blond who had barrelled in. 

Nope. Nevermind. He decided to drop the act when he heard the footsteps stop at the edge of his bed. He mourns his perfectly comfortable position.

“What.” He says flatly. He was getting real tired of these constant interruptions. He briefly startled when he noticed that Tsukasa hadn’t immediately flown off the rails yet. That was… new. Usually he’d never think before speaking. 

Tsukasa took a deep breath. Ran a hand through his hair. Paced around his room, left, and then came back, and started to pace again. 

Akito was getting annoyed. Really annoyed.

 “Can you just spit it out? I’m really not in the mood for this.” 

“You-!” Tsukasa started dramatically. He cut himself off immediately after and dragged a rickety wooden chair to Akito’s bedside, sitting down on it with a slight creaking noise. He inhaled.

“What happened after you got hit with that beam?”

Oookay. So he was being oddly serious. He could tell that this wasn’t really the time to joke around. He blinked for a beat, before deciding to just spit it out.  “Uh.. I crashed into someone’s apartment. Through the window. He patched me up before I left; but don’t worry, I did pay for the repairs-”

“That was my brother’s window! He called me thinking he was an accomplice to murder !!! Do you have any idea how badly you must have scared him!! And beyond that, why wasn’t that one of the first things out of your mouth?? You know how dangerous it is to involve random civilians!! Even if the situation was unavoidable, you should have told us immediately instead of letting me find out like this! What if it had been someone dangerous, or someone too nosy for their own good?? You’re so lucky that Toya’s got a good head on his shoulders! Honestly, this really isn’t something I should have to tell you! You’re old enough to understand this!!!”

“Huh. Small world, I guess-” 

“AKITO.”

Right, okay- yes, it was his mistake. Why hadn’t he said something..? It’s not like it’d slipped his mind. It's fully just that it.. didn’t occur to him that it was something to be mentioned. Also, side note, how on EARTH was Toya related to this loudmouth?? He did not see the resemblance. And also, he only ever mentioned a sister prior to this??! 

But- back to the main point, and also his chagrin, Tsukasa was completely right here. It was very irresponsible of him to leave an open end like that. However, he wasn’t about to just admit it. His pride was wounded as is. He had to defend himself at least a little , or he’d never recover emotionally.

“Right. Sorry. Okay, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. Didn’t occur to me. That’s the truth. But like... what else was I supposed to do? ‘S not like I could bring him back with me?”

Tsukasa paused, breathing hard, his earlier anger cooling into something that Akito couldn’t quite recognize. His expression tightened. 

“..Yeah. But as long as you get my point... The most important thing is that you realize that you’ve affected someone’s life, regardless of whether you meant to or not, Akito. You have to tell us these things, or the damage will be far, far worse than just one broken window. I’m serious.”

Now he felt bad. Ughhhh. 

He nodded, staring down at his lap. Some hair dropped down from where Nene had pushed it back earlier. 

“I know.. Sorry…”

Tsukasa sighed for what was hopefully the final time, running a hand down his face. 

“Right. So what’s most important is that we decide what to do next. I can’t let him live in fear, but I also can’t carelessly bring a civilian here. We’ll discuss this as a group.”

Akito nodded. Seemed like a reasonable decision. His eyelids drooped. The exhaustion was really hitting now. 

He blinked. 

It felt like a full minute passed before he opened his eyes again, but that wouldn’t… make sense.. 

Tsukasa looked over at him from where he stood in front of the door, a slightly ashamed expression on his face. When had he gotten all the way over there..?

“I.. apologize for barging in. As the world’s greatest future star, I should have left you to rest. Sleep- we’ll hold a meeting tomorrow, when you’re not on the verge of death.”

That was all the permission he needed to let his head hit the pillow, instantly falling into a deep, deep sleep. 

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

About half a day later, and fully against his will, he was awake. He groaned and attempted to burrow further into the blanket, but his body, traitorous and slightly less mangled than before, decided he was now “well rested” enough to be unable to go back to sleep. It was a major improvement from the last twelve hours, but he’d still only just gotten on better terms with existing. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up slowly, stretching just enough to test his newly reintroduced range of motion. His ribs didn’t scream this time, which he’d take as a win. Everything else ached like hell, but he no longer felt like he was being repeatedly punched. So basically, progress. 

Golden sunlight streamed through the window and onto the floor of the room, warming everything it touched ever so slightly. He’d still rather not open the window, though, since it was probably cold as hell outside. He was halfway through his internal debate as to whether or not it was worth dragging himself to the kitchen to scrounge for something in the fridge when the battered old door creaked open again. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” said An, slipping inside with a crinkled plastic cup of water and a protein bar that looked like it tasted like sawdust. “You alive?”

“Somewhat,” he croaked, voice still rough from sleep. “Is that… edible?”

“No, but I’m not getting you anything else, so take it or leave it.”

“…I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged, and took a bite of the dense brick before swallowing with a look of visible disgust. She handed him the water and leaned against the wall with a half-grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Still feel like I got thrown through a window, but maybe a little more gently than before.”

“Good to know you’re still in the mood to crack shitty jokes,” she snickered. Then, after a pause, “So. Tsukasa.”

Akito stilled, halfway through his cup of water.

An took that as her cue, fidgeting slightly. “He didn’t mean to barge in on you. Or maybe he did- I can never really tell. But he felt pretty bad about it after, and asked me to check if you were alright.”

Akito finished his lukewarm water before responding. “Well. To be honest, I barely remember half of what he said. He did yell a lot, but it wasn’t undeserved or anything- though, I’d have appreciated being a little more conscious first.”

“Yeah…. Whatever he said probably wouldn’t have made it through your thick skull anyways, but it might’ve had a better shot.”

“Hey. It’s not my fault he’s got a stick up his ass.”

There was a beat of silence before An took on a more serious tone. 

“Not to particularly defend him- cause that was kinda overboard, but can I ask…if you know why he’s like that?”

Akito leaned back into the bedframe a little, a confused expression crossing his face. “Like what? Loud? Abrasive?? Extremely overprotective???” 

An tilted her head. “Yeah, sure. That.”

Akito blinked. “Pretty sure that’s just his personality, An.”

She let out a slight laugh before shaking her head. “Maybe. But…”

An sat down at the edge of the bed, serious now, eyes darting to make sure the door was closed before she continued. She spoke in a lower tone.

“Do you remember Rui? From a couple years ago?”

That got his attention.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Wasn’t he one of the guys from the tech unit?”

“Not originally,” An said. “Nene once told me that he and Tsukasa were longtime friends. Rui was a regular civilian. An inventor, super smart and whatnot. Tsukasa let him see the HQ once, years ago; he wanted Rui’s thoughts on some of the gadgets they’d been having trouble with. Thought he’d understand it better with someone he trusted.”

Akito could vaguely see where this was going, and it didn’t seem good.

“So,” he said, wincing. “Didn’t end well, I’m guessing.”

“He was dragged in pretty much immediately,” An confirmed. “Once the higher ups saw what he could do, he couldn’t back out even if he wanted to; they offered him too many benefits, and threatened him with more than enough drawbacks. One of them was Nene’s job. He started off building things he had no interest in; then they switched him over to weapons. Then about a year ago… he just vanished. Tsukasa was really out of it for a while. You were out on a different mission, so I figured you wouldn’t have known.”

Akito didn’t speak for a moment.

That… really sucked. In a serious way. He’d thought they just drifted, or Rui had just transferred over somewhere else, like Akiyama. It’s not like he’d particularly been close with Rui anyways. He suddenly felt a hot flash of shame run through his body when he recalled how he’d thought of Tsukasa’s attitude just minutes ago. Tsukasa… had just been trying to help him. Akito’s stomach turned. No wonder he had gone off. If it had been the other way around… if he’d have reacted far worse than Tsukasa did. And here he was, being a jerk about it.

“I had no idea…” he muttered. “That’s so messed up.”

An let out a sigh. “I’m not trying to guilt you. I just didn’t want you to hold a grudge without knowing the full story. Figured it’d suck more the longer it dragged on.”

Honestly, that was a consideration he’d never have expected from An. 

“Yeah. It would’ve. Thanks, An.” He glanced over at her, hoping his expression would convey what he was feeling. He didn’t think he had the words for it. 

She nodded, and glanced toward the door again. “Group meeting about the whole Toya thing’s set to start in about fifteen. Tsukasa filled the rest of us in.”

“Alright. I’ll be there.”

“Cool. See ya.”

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Everyone gathered around one of the rickety tables in the front of the television, which had somehow become the designated meeting spot over the years. Nene sat in her computer chair, having dragged it with her from the command room. Kohane pulled out a stack of papers in true top-student fashion, and was nervously thumbing a pen in her right hand. An opted to sit directly on the table, next to Kohane. Typical. Tsukasa took the head of the room, pulling up a blackboard like it was some sort of business meeting. Akito was reclined on the sofa, just a little ways behind everyone else. 

Tsukasa spoke first, cutting straight to the point. “I’m sure you all know the situation at hand. An outsider- Aoyagi Toya- was involved in a major part of the incident three days ago, which we can’t ignore. We can’t just leave him be; Especially because he’s fully convinced he’s a tragic accomplice to a heinous crime. He’s also going to catch on; as his elder brother, I can assure you all that he’s not someone we can easily fool.”

“Hold on,” Nene cut in, “you had a brother? I thought it was just Saki.”

Tsukasa sighed, having anticipated the question. He was frankly shocked it took this long for them to ask. “We’re not blood related, but he may as well be! Back to the task at hand, please.” 

Nene shrugged. “Alright. Just clarifying.”

An cut in. “Option one. We pull off our most masterful mind games yet, and convince him he’s delusional.”

“Absolutely not!? Let me reiterate; we also must refrain from traumatizing him further.” Tsukasa shot back.

“He probably wouldn’t fall for it…,” Kohane added, quick and quiet. “Isn’t he basically a celebrity..? One of the Aoyagi’s pianists..? My father’s a fan, so… maybe he could probably say things on air that wouldn’t benefit us…”

Akito’s ears perked up at that. He was a pianist? That'd explain the unreasonably fancy piano he had seen.

“Fantastic point, though I doubt he would do such a thing. Option two,” Tsukasa said, “is we tell him the truth. BUT… we must be extremely cautious. The higher ups cannot find out about his involvement. They will try to take advantage of him.”

Akito felt a small prick of guilt at that. Externally, he raised an eyebrow. “And option three?”

“Lie badly and make everything worse,” An deadpanned. “So we really only have two options.”

“I was thinking Akito and I could go meet with him.” Tsukasa said, adjusting his collar. “It’d be for the best, since he can trust me, and directly ask Akito anything he needs to know.’”

Nene shook her head, decisive. “Akito’s a fugitive right now, remember? He can’t leave here, at least not till he heals enough to pull off stealth.”

Tsukasa tsked. “Good point…”

Akito spoke up, an idea lighting up in his head. “What if you... bring him here?”

“..Here,” Kohane asked nervously. “What if he freaks out?”

Akito thought for a long minute, conflicted. 

“If he does…then we’ll find another way to deal with it. But I trust him. He’s a weirdly reasonable person, from what I remember.”

There was a beat of silence. Tsukasa looked defeated, but seemed to fail to come up with another response.

“…Fine,” Nene muttered. “But if he tells anyone, I’m gonna be the one to erase his memory.”

Tsukasa made a strangled noise.

“I’m kidding , Tsukasa,” she added. “Mostly.”

Akito sighed. Fantastic. Tomorrow’s gonna be another headache.