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“How considerate of you! To think that you could be this thoughtful, pretending not to know how important this day is to your partner!”
Perhaps Rei might have laid it on a little too thick for Akai. It’s not as if there is some kind of special occasion for lovers, let alone important anniversaries and milestones in their relationship today. Rei simply blurted empty words in the thick of the moment, and he was being an asshole for no particular reason that morning.
…There might be a reason, namely Akai spilling sugar all over the kitchen floor when he was being careless while reaching over Rei to get to the coffee pot. Still, even Rei recognizes that he was being a little unfair for making something up to induce guilt in Akai.
As Rei contemplates this, nails absently tapping on a stack of papers he really needs to hand over soon, someone steps up beside his desk. Rei inclines his head in acknowledgement, waits for his subordinate to finish stuttering out his pleasantries, and holds out a hand for the incident report.
“You missed the witness’s statement here,” Rei points out, and hands the report back. “There was a straggler. Fix it.”
“The witness is a ten-year-old—”
“And?” Rei cuts with vitriol. “A ten-year-old has a pair of perfectly-working eyes and sound judgement, very unlike yo—"
Rei realizes he has been too harsh with his reprimand when he sees his subordinate jumping at his tone and dials it back into a more neutral expression. “The child has a guardian with him. You can confirm the statement with the adult.” Rei turns back to the papers he needs to sign and leaves it at that.
Rei is on his way to the conference room where a meeting is going to be held with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department when someone calls out to him—
“Amuro-san!” —with one of his more legal names from among the long list of his fake identities, that is. Rei recognizes the voice; after all, they have met several times when he was undercover, albeit back when he was known only as a charming café detective.
“Hello, Detective Takagi,” Rei dials up his charm with his friendly, more familiar Amuro smile, and nods to the detective walking alongside him, “and Detective Satou.”
Satou elbows Takagi’s hip very much conspicuously and greets him with a less enthusiastic but more polite tone, “Inspector Furuya, glad to finally put a face to the name.”
“Kazami has been in your care before,” Rei says amicably, inclines his head in a polite apologetic gesture. “My involvement was on a very strict need-to-know basis, during the few occasions our investigations intersected.”
“I understand that you were undercover for a good while,” Satou says diplomatically, eyes boring into his every little movement, as if searching for chinks in his armour, “however, the efforts put into concealing your history and connections have resulted in far too many holes in both our reports and records, and, as a result, have sufficiently hindered several of our investigations.”
No chit-chats, straight to the point, Rei supposes. Takagi is clearly bewildered at Satou’s boldness as he looks back and forth between them, but he keeps his silence, staring at Rei for his response. Unfortunately, deigning to give a response will just result in digging his own grave, and the upcoming meeting would end long before he’s done digging a hole large enough to fit all his dirt inside.
“And you will just have to accept it, Detectives,” Rei dismisses them, a scripted apologetic smile plastered on his face followed by an incline of his head, and simply walks away. Half an hour until the meeting starts, and Rei needs to get there in advance to check on everything. He does not have the time to entertain curious detectives who would be fully briefed as to the big picture in less than an hour.
“Are all of you from the Public Safety Bureau like this?” Satou exclaims, tone borderline rude when directed to someone her superior. Rei vaguely hears Takagi placating her, but the only sound Rei can hear in tandem is the roaring of his heartbeat. “Keeping everyone in the dark, you step all you want on us useless fodder’s toes?”
The thin thread of Rei’s composure snaps, and he stops in his tracks to meet Satou’s eyes. “If this is how you act when offered an olive branch, no wonder there has not been made an effort to bring your department into this from the start.”
Rei turns away because he has his job to do, and attending to complaints of the higherups' decision-making skills is not part of his duties. He pretends he does not hear the poison in what Satou says next, a claim made heedlessly.
“No wonder none of your cohort speak highly of you, despite your accomplishments, Inspector Furuya.”
The first half of the meeting goes off without a hitch, a couple bruised egos notwithstanding. At the moment, most have stepped out for a quick breather and lunch break, with only a couple stragglers left in the room. Rei himself is skipping lunch, in favour of preparing for the second half of the meeting.
One of said stragglers approaches Rei, relaxed steps and loose, confident gait. Familiar downturned eyes and a casual smile greet him, “Inspector Furuya. I don’t think we managed to talk one-on-one before. Your presentation was insightful.”
“Assistant Inspector Hagiwara,” Rei says, more cautiously now that he has been shot in the foot by a so-called personal conversation from the Metropolitan Department.
Hagiwara simply has a wry smile on her face, brushes back her long hair, and pats him on his arm, “Just call me Chihaya. It’s a mouthful, and it has to be confusing.”
Rei doesn’t manage to say anything before Hagiwara, no, Chihaya adds, “Kenji talked a bit about his academy days, you know. It seems that he got to know quite a few new people and a whole variety of interesting peers.”
Rei swallows as he feels his mouth dry up. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“And you, too,” she inclines her head, eyes softening. Her presence is so foreign yet easy, her brilliance casting shadows of someone they once were familiar with, two strangers who know.
Rei doesn’t think anyone has said that to him, not directly, not this kindly, in the many years he spent undercover.
The moment is broken when Chihaya slaps a hand on his back, laughing boisterously, cheer infectious, laughing cadence comfortably similar to her brother’s, “Do you want to go get lunch together?”
In the end, Rei has to turn down the kind invitation. He has things to do. As he reviews his notes and papers and the presentation content in order, Kazami drops a convenience store temaki along with a can of coffee by his side.
“Thank you, Kazami,” Rei acknowledges absentmindedly, flipping through the printouts.
“Furuya-san…” Kazami’s uncertain tone makes Rei turn to look at him. Brows furrowed, he says, haltingly, “I can take over for you, why don’t you have a break? It’s still another half an hour until the recess ends.”
Rei waves off his concern, but Kazami interjects, “You’ve just gotten off a field operation two nights ago,” taking down the organization is implied but not said out loud, “and you’ve been clearing your paperwork since yesterday, as well as getting assigned to speak for most of this meeting.”
“The duty naturally falls onto me, as I was a key participant,” Rei says, eyes darting back to the compact paragraphs detailing the upcoming joint operation. He would appreciate it if Kazami would let him do his work, and for the lines to stop squiggling and floating around the flimsy paper in his hand—
Kazami, insolent for once, pulls the paper away from him, puts the temaki and coffee in Rei’s hands, and herds him away from his table. Rei only registers the warmth of the coffee in his hand once he’s already whisked away to a bench outside the room.
(Kazami might have a point. He’s already outside anyways, and he is never one to waste food. He might as well eat what he’s given.)
“I apologize for snapping earlier. It was uncalled for.”
Rei looks up in surprise as he’s finishing the last of the temaki he has in hand, meeting Satou’s eyes. He only registers what Satou has said when Takagi starts shifting in place.
Rei finally says, as he’s done swallowing his food, “I was also being rude with my response to your provocation. Apologies.”
Satou nods, then brazenly sits on the empty space beside him, and tells him, “You are a great speaker. Your briefings certainly shed light on certain happenings.”
Rei inclines his head in acknowledgement as he cracks open the coffee with a hiss. Once he has washed the taste of the food out of his mouth, he says, “Your attention is appreciated.”
As silence falls upon them once again, and it seems that both Satou and Rei are not in the mood to engage in conversation, Takagi, still standing, hesitantly says, “Then, you do know Date-san.”
“I do,” Rei says, “he was our squad leader, back then.”
“What you said back then,” Takagi continues, sounding more certain of himself, “during the kidnapping case. You just know Date-san well enough that you can confidently say that was what he meant with those words—”
“I’ll make a man out of you!”
Rei involuntarily smiles, “That’s just how he is, as a leader, as a senior,” he softens his voice and allows himself to be melancholic, “as a friend.”
Rei can sense their gazes on him, but steadfastly looks at the wall in front of him and takes another sip of his coffee.
He continues, knowing very well that both Satou and Takagi managed to dig up certain names and connect some dots last halloween, “They’re all good people. Hagiwara, Date, Hi-Morofushi,” then, he directs his stare at Satou, “and Matsuda. We’ve given much grief to our instructors, admittedly, and thus, it isn’t too much of a surprise that we didn’t make too favorable an impression among our peers. Well, perhaps except for Date, he has always been good to everyone.”
“Ah, no, no,” Satou says, clearly flustered. “The only thing I got from looking you up is that you were valedictorian, and that most people only remember you by appearance, since…”
Rei nods, he has suspected so, that those words she spoke earlier were not meant to cut as deep, “I do look plenty striking, in a Japanese Police Academy, no less. My hair tends to make the most impression on people.”
“If you don’t mind me asking…”
“I’m mixed, yes,” Rei allows, and adds, “it was a sore point for many of my peers, considering my achievements and good grades. Snide remarks and insults intended to jab at my parentage were not unusual.”
Satou looks properly horrified, then, and Rei waves off the upcoming wave of apologies. “You didn’t mean it, said in a heat of the moment. Besides, I’m used to it.”
“Still…”
It’s always a hassle to deal with too many apologies and empty placations from acquaintances. Rei supposes this will do, for a distraction:
“This might be a good time to add that I was the one fighting Plamja in the helicopter last halloween.”
Rei feels an almost perverse sense of delight at the disbelief and wide eyes trained on him. “Would you like to hear the details we omitted, back then?”
The meeting finally adjourns for the day, and they are all dismissed. That said, Rei has more work to do, again, for another meeting tomorrow. Fewer attendees, but just as important. As he is turning the knob to his office for another late night at work, a cough behind him stops him in his tracks.
“Inspector Furuya, a moment?” Familiar slanted almond eyes, long, windswept bangs along the forehead, as well as his individual brand of ridiculous facial hair that clearly signifies the bad taste that runs in the family, greet him.
Rei ceases his staring and answers, “Yes, what is the matter, Inspector Morofushi?”
The so-called Koumei smiles, not unkindly, and holds up two cans of beer. “Would you care to join me for a drink?”
Rei has always had a weakness for those eyes, so he ends up following Koumei to a nearby park. If he’s drinking, he might as well just bring everything and work in the comforts of his home.
They sit on a bench, Tokyo traffic and the harsh clang of a toast followed by the pop and hiss of the beer cans the only sounds echoing between them. Rei decides to wait until Koumei has taken a sip of his drink to breach the talk.
“You recognized me, back then, in front of the church on that snowy mountain,” Rei says, staring at the droplets of condensation on his can. Transparent, as what they’re both trying to be, at the moment.
“We’ve met before, after all. Hiromitsu has always spoken highly of you,” Rei hitches his breath as those words fall so easily from Koumei’s lips.
Rei breathes out from his nose, “Thank you for keeping quiet about it.” It was a matter of life and death.
“Think nothing of it.” It was the least I could do for my brother’s dear friend.
Silence dawns upon them again, and Rei takes his first sip of the beer. Cool, refreshing malt washes down his throat.
Koumei speaks, then, “Sending the phone was risky.”
Rei nods, “It was.” It was the least I can do for my friend’s only family. Rei leans back on the bench, staring at the waning moon. It is a clear, cloudless night. “I am sorry for not reaching out sooner.”
“Opportunistic relationships can hardly be kept constant,” Koumei says, all sagely, and Rei hates that he can see Hiro’s temperament on his brother, “we only came to know each other through Hiromitsu.
“The acquaintance of honourable people,” his late best friend’s older brother continues, “even at a distance, does not add flowers in times of warmth and does not change its leaves in times of cold—” by the virtue of knowing Hiromitsu and experiencing not-all-too-dissimilar grief, by the cooperation they enforce to bring down the sword at the enemy—
It continues unfading through the four seasons, becomes increasingly stable as it passes through ease and danger.
“In a way, you yourself are one of the only tangible connections I have left to my brother in this world, for you are even closer to him than I am,” Koumei stands up, brushes off his pants, and looks at Rei. “Thank you for letting me have this, on his birthday. Have a good night.”
Rei pretty much robotically reaches home, and goes through the motions of toeing off his shoes, placing them inside the shoe rack, flicking on the lights. (Akai’s not home, not yet. He wishes he was.)
(Then again, Rei is the cruel one here. He is the one who dared to forget , and in the process dared to take it out on everyone, let alone Akai, of all people.)
(Does he never learn?)
Rei sighs to himself. He is too wound up either way, beer warming his cheeks. He might as well cook, let off some steam, and force Akai to eat what he cannot finish.
Rei doesn’t notice when Akai comes home, and is very much distracted by the mindless task of whisking eggs when Akai poses an almost innocuous question:
"What's Scotch like?”
It takes Rei a couple of beats to actually pay attention to whatever nonsense Akai just blurted out.
“As Morofushi Hiromitsu,” Akai clarifies, as if that explains everything, dropping a shopping bag with a gentle thud onto the table. Something heavy, a glass bottle. As he opens the bag with slender, boney fingers, the easy grace of his hands pulling out a bottle of Scotch juxtaposed with the way Akai is seemingly stumbling on his own words, tone almost reverent, “as… Hiro .”
Rei’s chopsticks halt to a stop at the nickname he has never expected to hear from Akai’s mouth. As memories of simpler times rise among the grief he has repressed in favor of his duties, Rei is struck with both epiphany and incredulity towards Akai at the same time.
"I can't believe you actually got that," Rei says, putting down the bowl of half-whisked egg and chopsticks at the counter. He needs to steady himself, and spilled eggs on the floor will simply make it worse for the both of them. "I didn't even mean it for you to actually find something relevant. I was just being spiteful."
"I know." It truly is unfair that Akai can say that so easily, so gently, in a soothing tone as if he is trying not to spook an anxious animal. Rei might as well be one, with the way his fingers grip the edge of the counter. "Just in case, since you were in quite a terrible mood these past few days, I figured I might as well look into it."
Rei takes a breath, holds it, and counts to four. He has been a little more busy than usual. Work is a little hectic when there is untangling and tying up of loose ends to be done, from the mess that is his former undercover work. All that, in addition to the takedown. Any slight and careless wordings were quick to offend him, even moreso than usual, without his habitual discipline of professional patience.
Rei looks at nothing but the simple memories of a distant past, and he starts, haltingly, “He is a precious, loyal friend.” He finally turns to Akai, accidentally meeting his eyes. When all Rei finds there is gentle encouragement, emboldened, he plows on, “We have known each other since we were kids, and have always been there for each other.” He is also stupid, kind, and too loyal of a man who values the lives of his family and friends before his own, remains unspoken, but that is what both of them are always aware of, anyways. One of the many reasons for the unbridled rage and hunger for misplaced justice Rei has nursed towards Akai.
Akai says, almost gently, "He seemed like a good person.” He steps beside Rei, movement languid, leisurely, safe, and reaches for the cupboard. “I wish I could have gotten to know him." Not as Scotch and Rye. As Morofushi Hiromitsu and Akai Shuuichi, as the loyal friend of the one he treasures the most, Rei can almost hear in Akai’s own words.
The culmination of those soothing words rubbing with utmost care at the tender, raw, reopened wounds pushes Rei over the edge, and his vision blurs. Akai doesn't say anything, inching closer to Rei’s side, fingers wiping oh so carefully at the corner of his eyes. This close, Rei finds himself unable to avert his eyes from Akai, his thin, boney fingers caressing with reverence. His green eyes, brighter than any jade, convey almost a little too much. Rei shakes his head. He needs some space for himself, just for a moment.
Akai concedes, leaning back. He opens the bottle, pours three glasses on the counter, and hands one to him. Rei accepts it, and they have a toast to a good friend, long gone.