Chapter Text
Oikawa loves his job; really, he does. But there are some days where he just wants to march up to his boss’ office, scream a few things that would make his mother faint, flip him off and walk out with two victory peace signs raised in the air, to the cheers and applauding of his co-workers. Clearly today is not that day. As one of the head reporters of the Aobajousai newspapers, one of the leading news companies in the area, he sat obediently at his desk surrounded by mountains of event clippings which desperately needed assorting, mixed papers and files, accompanied by the constant bombardment of phone calls from clients, neighbouring businesses, or simply those who wished to submit an eye-catching piece of news (most likely to be rejected and thus an utter waste of time). Oikawa leaned back in his chair which did little help to comfort his aching back. He reached for his phone and tapping it awake. ‘Only 3:42pm’. Oikawa refrained from groaning in despair. Not that time even mattered. He wouldn’t be able to leave this god-forbidden place until he at least finished off the rescue from car-crash story and sent it off to be finalised and published.
“Oikawa senpai, would you like some coffee?”
Oikawa swore in surprise and fumbled with his phone before glowering at the individual waiting patiently behind him holding a tray of white paper cups. “Haven’t you ever been taught to knock before entering? Why are you even still here?”
The raven haired boy blinked at Oikawa. “I couldn’t knock, I was holding the tray. Akaashi senpai said it would be fine to come in,”
Oikawa sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There’s no point wasting my time lecturing you. You’ll just repeat it again tomorrow like some broken record. And since when did this place offer internships? I had to climb up the ladder without short cuts when I was your age to get to where I am now,”
“But you’re only three years ol-“
“Why the hell are you still here Kageyama?”
The boy held up the tray towards Oikawa, expression full of earnest. The brunette snatched a small cup and pointed it towards the door. “There, happy? Now get out, I’m extremely busy,” Oikawa didn’t miss the way Kageyama eyed his other hand which was still clutching on to the mobile and he stood, yelling defensively as the intern hurried out.
“I was checking for important messages, alright?! Because I have a job and you don’t!” Oikawa sat back down breathing heavily out of his nose. God, he hated that kid.
“It’s only three thirty and you’re yelling already? Clearly someone’s stressed.”
Oikawa waved dismissively at Akaashi who had peeked in to his office, coffee in one hand and expression completely placid. Akaashi was one of the very few co-workers Oikawa favoured. He was in charge of the photos which were selected in to the papers, and thus the two often worked closely together on the important headliner stories. He was also never late submitting his works which Oikawa was eternally grateful for.
“Allowing Kageyama to barge in to my office like that. I won’t forgive you so easily this time.”
Akaashi raised one eyebrow. He sat down in the seat nearest to the door. “I don’t think he’s that bad. If anything, I feel sorry for the kid having to deal with you breathing down his neck all the time.”
Oikawa snorted and shook his head in denial. “I’ve never done such a thing. Name just one incident where I’ve done wrong to him; and yes, that was a rhetorical question so don’t bother answering that. Besides, he was the one breathing down my neck just then. I bet he was trying to sneak a peek at one of my stories. Trying to steal my hard-earned works, the brat.”
Akaashi stared at Oikawa looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Sure. So what’s the progress on the rescue story down at Karasuno?”
Oikawa let out a woeful sound, thunking his head on the table. Akaashi clicked his tongue in disapproval and stood to leave. “I need an email of the draft by tomorrow morning the latest so I can figure out what pictures to use. I’ve got a few in mind but I can’t start until you’re done,” the other grunted in response. Akaashi turned before pausing and coming back.
“You’ll probably need this more than I do.” He placed his coffee next to Oikawa’s untouched one on the desk. The brunette let out pathetic whine and his friend huffed in amusement, giving a firm pat on the shoulder before leaving.
The major downfall of Oikawa’s work was fast pace of it all. News is constantly occurring, one major event after the other. Reporters are only given a few hours to gather up their story before being able to send it off to their editors for it to be finalised and published to the public. This meant there was no such thing as planning ahead or set schedules. This also meant relationships were basically a no-go. Oikawa had given up after several attempts and he could only handle so many slaps to the face and angry partners storming off before he decided to give it a quits too. The main focus on his mind was what was considered news-worthy and how fast can he finish it in order for it to be published to the public before other rival news businesses. Oikawa glared at the half-completed article on his desk before cracking his knuckles.
“Alright, let’s get this over and done with,” he muttered to himself. This story was just another obstacle to get out of the way and once it was done, he never had to look at it again.
… Only he was still staring at it after several hours. Others had left earlier and he was still stuck on this sad piece of writing which was nowhere near completing. Oikawa rubbed at his eyes and checked his phone for the thousandth time. ‘1:34am’. He wanted to yank his hair out. He had finished off the inspiring interview story with Quinn Mourre, emailed the publisher his final copy of yesterday’s work, emailed Akaashi in regards to the work they were asked to publish by tomorrow noon, as well as selecting a few story candidates to be published in tomorrow’s work. But he couldn’t finish this story. Everything he wrote came out either too awkwardly-phrased or insensitive. ‘I’m missing something here’. Once in a while Oikawa was faced with a difficult piece of work but he always managed to get through and get it done before the deadline. Oikawa hated going home knowing the unfinished story would be constantly at the back of his mind, nagging to be finished. But right now, he was just tired. “I don’t even care if I get fired tomorrow,” Oikawa said aloud to no one in particular. Of course he did care. There were plenty who would jump at the opportunity of taking his position (Kageyama included; I don’t care what Akaashi says, that kid is a menace) and he wasn’t going to give up that easily. But right now his eyes felt heavy, mind thick and muddled and his back on the verge of snapping. ‘Just a quick power nap then I’ll finish it’ Oikawa concluded as he pulled his chair out and shoved his laptop and papers in to his bag. He pocketed his mobile and wallet in to each pants pocket and stumbled his way out.
The air was surprisingly chilly and Oikawa clutched tightly on to his bag as he hurried down the city street. It never ceased to fascinate him how such a city packed with business men and women bustling about during the day could be so empty and quiet during night. Oikawa focused on the small puff of warm foggy breath which escaped his mouth every few seconds to distract him from the eerie vibe of the night city life. He wasn’t an idiot. As a news reporter, he was fully aware of the frightening things which occurred at night, ranging from armed robberies to kidnappings and random attacks. Each chilling case rushed in to mind and he didn’t dare look at anything but the small slab of concrete ground ahead of his feet. His goosebumps were now prominent and he inwardly scolded himself for not bringing a warmer jacket.
“Got any spare change?”
Oikawa almost jumped out of his skin as he glanced up to find someone leaning against a building wall a metre ahead of him. They had pulled their hoodie up, covering their face which was never a good sign and Oikawa hesitated in his tracks. The deep baritone voice indicated a definite male with an air of confidence. That was very troubling.
“Uh, hm you know what? I’ve left my wallet at my work. I’d like to give you some spare cash but I d-“
“Shut up and give me some change.”
Oikawa refused to so much as flinch at the sudden sharp tone of the stranger. “Well not with that attitude. I’ve dealt with all different kinds of people in my life but you know what they say. Old people e-“ Oikawa froze at the quiet but distinct sound of a knife being steadily unsheathed; that audible sharpness alighting his nerves.
“Give me your god damn money and move on.”
This was definitely not a good sign. Oikawa glanced around to find the street completely empty. ‘I should just run. The chances of him chasing me is low’. He took a hesitant step back but immediately regretted his decision. The male lunged out, the slight glint of the knife appearing for a split second before Oikawa felt a sudden blunt pain in his stomach. He staggered back, but had little time to recover before he was shoved to the ground by the other. He tried to yell for help but the earlier blow had knocked the wind out of him and he lay there in helpless fear and pain. He felt his left arm yanked back painfully and he let out an involuntary hiss. The stranger had grabbed his bag and bolted down the streets, dark hoodie blending in to the background. Oikawa was now alone.
He lay there for what felt like a century, allowing his body to slowly readjust itself. His choked breaths were now shallow pants. His lungs still felt crushed as he forced more air in to his system. The pain in his stomach still lingered and with shaky hands he reached around, gingerly touching his stomach for any open wounds. He let out a grateful sigh when he found he was still intact. The thief must’ve hit him with the handle of the knife instead in order to immobilise him as opposed to actually harming. Oikawa’s thankful mood plummeted when he realised his bag was gone. ‘All my work’. Well technically he had saved most of his files on to the computer at work for a backup but the most recent files were a goner. As well as his expensive, recently-bought laptop. Oikawa wanted to scream. Today was definitely by far the worst day of his life. He reached for his back pockets and felt the familiar outline of his phone and wallet which he had tucked in before leaving. ‘Imagine his face when he realises I actually had no money in the bag’ Oikawa laughed aloud, too drained to even care how crazy he must look lying in the middle of the sidewalk at two in the morning, laughing like some deprived homeless person. ‘I need that laptop back though’ he contemplated woefully. He needed to get help first. Oikawa pulled out his phone and tapped in the nearest location of the police department. ‘Only four streets away. You can do this’. He sat up cautiously, whimpering inwardly. His stomach felt like it was on fire. Oikawa grabbed the nearby streetlight for support and began shuffling to the location.
It took well and truly over twenty minutes but he finally arrived. The ache within his stomach had ceased and Oikawa glanced up at the building. The two dimly lit lights casted an eerie artificial yellow over the dark exterior. He frowned at the unwelcoming atmosphere and pushed the door open.
The inner walls of the police department had proven to be just as dreary as the outside with pale, faded blue wallpaper everywhere, reminding Oikawa of the an old-school hospital. A few metres shy of the entrance was the reception desk which was occupied by a rather messy mop of dark hair. Oikawa hobbled to the front and stared at the individual perched on the chair behind. His hair was much more atrocious up close, his sharp, half-lidded eyes darting back and forth at the fast-paced game he was playing on the phone. His long legs propped on up the desk as he tapped away on his device. Oikawa gave a small cough to alert him of his presence.
“Shh. I’m so close to beating my friend, gimme a second.”
Oikawa blinked at the raven-haired male. “Are you serious? I’ve just been mu-“ the phone bleeped an unhappy tune and the receptionist sat back howling in disappointment.
“Damn it! I was so close too! Bokuto is never going to let this go now.”
Oikawa stared incredulously at the disgruntled bed-headed man. “Did you not just hear what I said? I got m-“ the door on the left slammed open as a white and grey haired man (with ridiculous amounts of hair gel) burst in with the most haughty grin on his face.
“You can’t beat the B-dogz, K-cat! Better luck never Mr. Second place,” he did a playful motion of pulling out finger guns and ‘pew-pew’ing at the receptionist. The other retaliated by grabbing a rubber band from the supplies draw and shooting it at his friend. ‘What the hell is this’ Oikawa was completely baffled at the scene of two men in police uniform yelling at one another, running around and jumping over the desks, making ridiculous fake gun sounds and in general, acting like absolute idiots.
“I just got mugged; is there someone competent in this god damn office who can help me?” Oikawa hissed. The two officers paused their childish game and stared blankly at him.
“You got mugged? Well, that sucks.”
The white-haired officer chortled and grinned at his snarky friend. They finally settled down and the receptionist reached over and grabbed a pen from another desk. He ambled over back to the front desk, throwing his body wholly in the wheely chair. It let it out a loud squeak, threatening to snap soon but he paid no mind. Those lazy, languid eyes focused on Oikawa as he pulled out a notebook and clicked the pen.
“Well first things, first. I would probably recommend you cancel all your credit cards, renew any other forms of I.D. such as your driver’s license and such. If you happen to have any other important belongings within your wallet, please indicate to us n-“ Oikawa shook his head as he pulled his wallet out from his pocket.
“No, I have my wallet I got my bag sto-“
The white haired police officer jumped in, hands latched on to the receptionists’ shoulders, ignoring his friend grunt as he pushed him down when he leaned over to peer at the wallet. “That’s your wallet right there.”
Oikawa rolled his eyes heavily and glared at the policeman. “Well, no kidding. I got my bag stolen, not my wallet.”
The raven-haired officer reached back and jabbed his pen in to the other’s armpit. The other let out a loud yelp and fell back, nursing his pit with a dejected expression.
“What was in your bag then?”
Oikawa looked back at the raven-haired man staring expectantly at him. “Important documents. My laptop. And I had a lot of my work saved on to it so I need it back as soon as possible.”
The receptionists’ expression dropped, now looking rather bored. “What, that’s it? Some pieces of paper and a laptop? Man, I thought it would be something more interesting. Robberies like that happen all the time.”
Oikawa gaped disbelievingly at him. “What the hell, are you kidding me? I got mugged at two in the morning and you’re seriously telling me it should be more interesting? Are you even a police officer?”
The white haired officer jumped in again covering his friend’s ears. “Hey, hey, hey! That’s not a nice thing to say to someone who’s trying to help you out! Why didn’t you back up your work if it was so important?” Oikawa wanted to rip his own hair out. Or better yet, reach over and rip the officer’s hair out. The messy-haired friend placed a hand out, silencing the other officer.
“Hold up. The real question here is what were you doing lurking about at two in the morning with all these so-called important documents? What exactly were on those files?” That hand then closed in to a fist and the other automatically bumped it with his.
Oikawa pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. “They were documents of cases I had collected information on. I can’t tell you what exactly that information is because as part of job, I’m not authorised to share that with you,” The other two gazed at Oikawa before sharing glances amongst themselves. Oikawa felt a sense of unease as he scowled at the duo. In a very well synced motion, they both leaned in, squinting at him, expressions full of distrust.
“Sounds like an underground informant to me, ain’t that right Bokuto?” The white-haired officer, or Bokuto, nodded fervently. Oikawa trembled in fury as he gave them an icy glare.
“Is this the right place? I thought I came to a police station, not a god damn idiot parlour,”
“Are you sure you came to the right place? What kind of criminal informer comes to a police station? You must be new to this cause you’re not very good at it,” the bedheaded policeman drawled. His friend hooted with laughter, slapping his friend’s arm and causing a havoc. Oikawa’s tolerance had hit zero. He slammed his hand on the reception desk and snarled.
“Who the hell thought it was a good idea leaving you two by yourselves here? I demand to speak to the one in charge!” the officers grinned at him, unconcerned by his lash out. Oikawa leaned over the desk and yelled out. “Hello? Is there any other officer in here because I can’t deal with these idiots,” the duo burst out laughing which made his blood boil even further. He was just about ready to give up on his laptop and go home. ‘I’m going to publish a ten page report dedicated to how useless this god damn police department is so everyone will know’ he thought viciously. He turned to storm out when a deep, commanding voiced boomed from behind.
“What is all this commotion?”
Oikawa rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. “Finally. Are you guys short on staff here or something? What took you so lo-“ he choked back his words as he came face to face with the world’s most handsome (but frowning) officer.