Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Satoru awoke to the blare of his alarm, inhaling sharply as his hand went to the space next to him.

The exhale that left him when he felt the empty side of the bed was part of his routine at this point.

Turning off his alarm, Satoru sighed quietly as he brought his palms up to his face, wiping off the crusts of sleep from his eyes before opening them and letting his vision come to focus.

It was a workday, so it was too early for any sunlight to filter in through his blinds. Satoru rolled onto his side, hand trailing over the pillow next to him. He could still remember the feeling of long strands curling around his fingers and tickling against his palm.

He reached for the chain around his neck, bringing the platinum ring hanging at the end of it up to his lips. The metal was warm from the heat of his body, tiny diamonds unforgiving against the press of his mouth.

“Morning…” Satoru murmured, letting himself lay in bed for a few more moments before finally dragging himself up.

Satoru plucked up his phone, stretching languidly as he made his way to the bathroom, checking if he’d missed any important notifications while he’d been asleep.

He knew better than to feel optimistic when all he saw were scant promotional emails; he could get a call at any moment.

He was proven right when his phone rang nearly forty-five minutes later, but luckily for him he’d already finished showering and was wrapping up his skincare routine. He answered on speakerphone, not wanting to smear any of his moisturizer on the screen.

“Tsk, tsk, Captain, don’t you get tired of calling me before I’m decent?” Satoru said with a pout so exaggerated he knew Yaga must have been able to hear it in his voice. He removed his hair clips and let his bangs fall into his face, reaching for his bottle of hair milk.

“It’s Ryoumen-kai. The body’s fresh. Be at the crime scene within the hour.” Yaga ordered, forgoing any sort of greeting.

Satoru would’ve teased him about it if he didn’t miss the palm of his hand with his pump bottle at the mention of the gang, squirting precious product onto his wrist by accident. Cursing under his breath, he went to salvage what he could, scooping it up and leaning over the sink as he started combing the hair milk through white strands.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll wait for the address.” Satoru replied, moving with more haste. His phone beeped as Yaga ended their call, then vibrated with a new text. Satoru exited the bathroom, going down the hallway and swinging Megumi’s door open. “Rise and shine, Megumi! If you’re not up in five, I’m coming back with the pinchers!” He threatened, wiggling aforementioned pinchers despite knowing the boy couldn’t see them.

There was a grumbling noise from under the thick duvet on Megumi’s bed, and there was some shifting to indicate that one of his two wards was conscious at least.

Tsumiki’s door was already open, backpack hanging off the doorknob. There were faint noises coming from the kitchen, so Satoru headed back to his bedroom. He popped into the closet to grab fresh underclothes and socks before heading over to his desk where he’d laid out his work uniform on the chair the night before.

His suit was dark purple, the semi wrinkled button up underneath was black, and his tie was a shade of onyx that melted into the background of inky fabric. He fiddled with the golden button pinned to his lapel before snatching up his sunglasses from his desk and sliding them on. He opened his drawer and dug out his wallet, putting it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

Megumi’s bedroom door was open and there was no sign of the boy in his bed, satisfying Satoru with the knowledge that he wasn’t oversleeping.

Satoru went over to the fish tank in the living room, cooing at the pretty black betta fish that swam inside. He plucked up the fish food, shaking some into the tank and beaming at his little pet.

“Eat up, Yoru! You’ve got a big day of swimming and being adorable ahead of you,” Satoru blew the fish a kiss.

Humming, Satoru left for the kitchen. When he entered, there was an onigiri, a plate of dango, and a travel mug waiting for him.

The angel herself, his lovely Tsumiki, was finishing up the last of breakfast for herself and Megumi. She must have heard Satoru on the phone earlier, otherwise they all knew that Satoru enjoyed being able to sit down for meals with them.

“Morning, Miki! Thank you for the food~” Satoru crooned, happily plucking up the dango and swallowing down the skewered balls in one go, cheeks puffing up impressively as he chewed.

“Good morning, Gojo-san.” Tsumiki greeted warmly, sending him a crinkly-eyed smile.

“Sorry, I can’t stay, I’ve been called in.” Satoru explained, and Tsumiki nodded. “Megumi has baseball and you have student council duties after school today, right?” He questioned, receiving an affirmative from the girl. “Want me to pick you two up in the evening?”

“You just got called in right? Chances are, you won’t be finished by then anyway, so you don’t need to bother.” Megumi sighed as he entered the kitchen, every bit of the gloomy little rain cloud that he often seemed to be these days.

Satoru figured it was just puberty, the boy was about to hit his teens. At least, that’s all Satoru hoped it was. He’d play it by ear and count on Tsumiki to drop tactful hints if necessary.

“But Megumi! It would be the perfect excuse to take a nice little break! My boss treats me like a little minion at his beck and call, and I’m but a delicate and important asset that needs to be treated as such!” Satoru whined, making Tsumiki laugh and Megumi send him a disgruntled look that spoke more than words.

“Megumi just wants to walk home with Itadori-kun so he has an excuse to spend more time with him,” Tsumiki teased.

The way Megumi’s face exploded a brilliant red as he shrunk into the collar of his shirt was like blood in the water to Satoru.

“Did our Megumi finally make an actual friend?” Satoru didn’t squeal, but it was a near thing.

“Don’t you have a job you need to leave for?” Megumi snapped, making Satoru’s grin widen.

“It’s cute you think I’m gonna let this go,” Satoru cooed. “Tsumiki, do what you must, but make sure to bring this Itadori-kun home so I can properly vet him!” He instructed, putting every ounce of playful seriousness that he could into his expression.

“You’ll like him just fine, Gojo-san. He’s a sweet boy and very friendly.” Tsumiki hummed, and Satoru softened at that.

“Alright then,” he settled. “There is a fresh body with my name on it!” He laughed brightly, making Megumi wrinkle his nose and Tsumiki sigh. “I’ll see you kids later! Don’t get into any trouble!”

And before Megumi could escape, Satoru bent down and grabbed both of the kids, bringing their faces against his so he could nuzzle their cheeks together.

Megumi was scowling when Satoru released them. It was cute how Satoru did this every day before leaving, and Megumi had yet to get out of the way soon enough to avoid his displays of affection.

“Be careful at work, Gojo-san.” Tsumiki called as Satoru swept up his onigiri and coffee, heading to the door.

“No need for that,” Satoru laughed. “I’m the best detective after all!”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

The crime scene was at the back of an alleyway located in the heart of Ryoumen-kai territory. Ijichi was waiting for Satoru at the cordoned off edge of the scene. He looked green in the gills, dabbing at his forehead with his handkerchief.

It told Satoru what he was walking into was not going to be pretty. He was expecting the worst anyway, considering which yakuza group was most likely involved. Satoru had checked over the basic information on the victim on his way in earlier: Jin Utsui, thirty years old, multiple convictions for assault and extortion, and a confidential informant that had gotten them small time criminals in the past but had recently been feeding them intel from Ryoumen-kai.

Satoru raised the caution tape, ducking underneath it and passing the crime scene techs as he made his way over to Yaga.

“I didn’t think you were actually going to be here in person, Captain.” Satoru raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be busy kissing the safety committee’s asses so the rest of us can focus on our work?”

Yaga’s brow twitched, and he let out a measured breath. “This case already has a stink to it. Too many details indicate Sukuna’s work and the victim was an informant.”

“So? I’ve dealt with Sukuna before.” Satoru reminded, stepping around Yaga in order to finally get a look at the victim. He whistled, lowering his sunglasses.

The victim had been chopped up, pieces of his body carelessly strewn about. His head had been cut in half at the nose then again at the neck. He’d been halved from torso down to pelvis, limbs cut off at the joints. The considerable amount of blood splashed against the brick and pooled on the concrete made it highly likely that the victim had been murdered here. The blood spatter analysis would have to confirm it later.

“Well, it certainly does have Sukuna written all over it with big flashing letters and a neon sign.” Satoru remarked, leaning down when he saw movement from the open cage of the victim’s ribs. “And he’s never shown mercy to any sort of betrayal, so this C.I. lines up with previous victims.”

“Sukuna’s not just a big fish, but a dangerous one, Satoru.” Yaga said seriously, but the younger man didn’t spare him a glance.

Further inspection revealed that a worm had been crawling atop one of the lungs of the victim, and Satoru’s brow crinkled at the unexpected critter.

“Hey, make sure to get this.” Satoru waved over one of the crime scene techs, pointing at the worm. After she had carefully collected and sealed it, Satoru turned back to Yaga as he straightened up. “Like I said, I know Sukuna. I’ll figure out if this really was his work or if someone just wants us to think it was.”

“What makes you think it might be someone else?” Yaga raised a brow. Satoru knew he wasn’t assuming who the killer was either, but his captain always needled Satoru for his how’s and why’s like a teacher asking him to show his work.

“Call it a hunch.” Satoru shrugged, partially to be difficult, but mostly because he never assumed suspects without having gathered all the necessary facts first. His captain was the one who’d taught him that in the first place.

Yaga let out a sigh, crossing his arms. “I think you should work with a partner on this one, Satoru. One that you don’t run off again. You’ve already been through two since—”

“I had a partner.” Satoru cut him off, voice flat. “I don’t need another one. Besides, I’m your best detective, remember?” He turned his back to Yaga, walking off before the other man could get in another word.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru rolled up to the Ryoumen compound a couple hours later. He was immediately stopped at the front gates by two very burly and very intimidating men.

“C’mon fellas, do we have to do this again? I’ve been here once before, don’t you remember the last time?” Satoru said pleasantly, flashing them his most disarming smile and batting his lashes.

One of the men—a blond with a terrible bleach job—held up his hand, and the other—a bald guy with shaved brows and head tattoos—raised his phone so he could presumably call someone who did have the say-so to give them permission to let Satoru in.

“It’s the idiot detective.”

“Having to use a descriptor implies you have multiple detectives that come by. I thought I was special,” Satoru said in fake hurt.

Blondie didn’t even flinch, and Baldie muttered something before hanging up.

“Check him,” Baldie said.

“Be careful, I have a delicate body.” Satoru simpered as he raised his arms, and Blondie scoffed as he started patting him down. Satoru knew they were checking for his service weapon, but he’d purposefully left it in his work desk in a locked drawer.

It wasn’t like Satoru needed his weapon to get him out of sticky situations anyway.

“Go in before Boss changes his mind.” Blondie scowled, crossing his arms and stepping away from him.

Satoru saluted, whistling as he strode into the compound once the front guards had let him through.

He had to hand it to Sukuna, the yakuza boss kept immaculate grounds for his base of operations. The buildings were traditional, and there was a large stone garden as well as a sizable koi pond between the front gates and the main building.

“Tch, of course you would have the gall to show up.”

Satoru beamed at his escort, a short elderly man who walked with a cane and had an eyepatch over a gruesome burn on the side of his face. The liver spots on his face danced as he stared at Satoru in contempt.

“We’ve already held hands, so don’t be so cold, Jougo.” Satoru cooed, extending his arm out to the old man. “Wanna do it again?”

“Jougo-san to you!” Jougo snapped, going to smack Satoru’s hand with his cane but the latter moved it out of the way in time with a laugh.

“Now, I’m assuming you let me in because he is actually here? Or are you going to try to kill me again?” Satoru tilted his head, smile cold and challenging.

The vein in Jougo’s temple throbbed violently, his teeth grinding audibly. “There may still be time to kill you yet, but fortunately for you, Sukuna-sama has agreed to see you. He’s a busy man, and you’re already crashing his schedule so hurry up.” He barked.

Satoru’s stride overtook Jougo’s within two paces, much to the irritation of the older man.

They passed a few more members of Sukuna’s gang, all of them glaring at Satoru who grinned right back at them.

They reached the doors of Sukuna’s receiving room, and Jougo announced the detective’s arrival before he slid them open for Satoru, remaining outside.

Sukuna was reclined back in a chair that was so regal it may as well have been a throne. His white and navy kimono was loose and open as he kept one leg lazily crossed over the other. He was a big man, muscular and heavily tattooed, with pink hair that he kept slicked back. His eyes were sharp and narrowed as he settled his gaze on Satoru.

“Why are you here, Gojo Satoru?” Sukuna demanded, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“You’re just as warm and welcoming as last time.” Satoru remarked cheerily, pushing his shades up into his hair to reciprocate the eye contact with Sukuna. “A body turned up earlier this morning, in an alley that falls under your territory. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Sukuna stared at him, face unreadable. He propped his chin against his fist.

“No.”

“So, you’re saying you didn’t do it?” Satoru tilted his head, unblinking and expression just as placid as Sukuna’s.

“No.”

Satoru studied Sukuna for a beat longer before he slid his sunglasses back over his eyes, humming and slipping his relaxed demeanor back on.

“Yeah, that makes sense. It looked like your work, but it didn’t feel like you.” Satoru said, matter-of-fact. He knew that Sukuna may be one of the most savage and brutal men in Tokyo, a ruthless leader and the type of person to do exactly as he pleased, but Sukuna also never lied.

It wasn’t common knowledge, and Sukuna would definitely twist words and omit details, but he also wouldn’t definitively declare he hadn’t done something if he truly hadn’t. It was some sort of strange code of morals that Satoru would probably never understand, but he did well to remember it in instances like these when dealing with someone as fickle as Sukuna.

Satoru may not have been harmed yet, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying or intent on Ryoumen-kai’s part.

“Well, in that case, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I know you’re a busy man,” Satoru inclined his head in acknowledgement.

If Sukuna wasn’t the culprit, then there was no doubt that he would be hunting down the person that was. This was exactly the sort of thing that Sukuna would take with the greatest offense. Satoru knew if the yakuza caught the killer first, there would be another chopped up body for him to find.

“Just don’t get in my way, Gojo. I’ve been more than courteous to you. Reign in your pesky nature, otherwise I’ll be more than happy to show you your place.” Sukuna warned, baring his teeth in a facsimile of a grin.

“Ooh, you’re thinking nasty thoughts about me. That’s definitely my cue to get going. See you around!” Satoru laughed before making a quick retreat, leaving the room and waving goodbye to Jougo just to see the man burst a vessel. “No need to escort me, I know my way out.”

Jougo really did let Satoru leave by himself, and Satoru wondered if the man truly despised him enough to let him out of sight. He entered the courtyard, considering his next steps. Namely, where he was going to go for lunch.

“Yo, Satoru.”

Satoru stopped in his tracks. There was suddenly nothing else that mattered, his entire focus shifting and honing in on the man behind him.

“Suguru.”

Satoru turned, gazing at the man who used to be his partner, his one and only.

Suguru looked gorgeous, he always did. His hair was no longer in the bun he used to wear, instead in a half up and half down style. It had grown even longer since the last time he’d seen him, flowing in silky layers down his back. Suguru’s eyes were warm, tracing over Satoru as if to catalog and memorize him the same way Satoru had just done to him.

“You know you shouldn’t be here, Satoru.” Suguru commented after a moment, brows furrowing. “I heard how much chaos you caused last time. The boss will only take so much before he snaps.”

“Careful, Suguru. It almost sounds like you still care.” Satoru said tonelessly, unequivocally reminding Suguru of the distance between them.

Suguru’s expression shuttered, a flicker of sadness flitting over his face before he went similarly cold. “Force of habit, I suppose.” He murmured.

Satoru’s mind went to the empty space that he patted every morning, the loneliness that ripped through his chest every time he kissed his ring before sleeping and after waking.

“Better learn how to break it before it gets you in trouble, Suguru.” Satoru clicked his tongue, turning on his heel and leaving before either of them could say anything stupid.

Whatever appetite he’d had was completely gone, every step taken further from Suguru sinking a knife deeper and deeper through the space of his ribs.

Satoru wondered if loving Suguru any less would ever make the pain fade.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru never could stand the morgue: it was too cold, everything was depressingly lifeless, and no matter how much cleaning product was used, the smell of death always lingered. He didn’t know how Shoko did it.

Sometimes, Satoru wondered if Shoko would ever go back to being a doctor. Their relationship had already been strained, but Shoko becoming a medical examiner had only furthered the wedge between them, pushing bottles into her hands and silence into his mouth.

They pretended otherwise, but the reduction of their trio to a duo affected them more than they would ever say aloud.

“Yo, Shoko.” Satoru greeted as he approached her, plastering on a grin. He was still feeling raw from seeing Suguru again. He knew she would be able to tell something was wrong. Just as Satoru knew something was wrong with Shoko but wouldn’t ask. They’d gotten good at speaking without really talking. “What’s the prelim look like?” he asked.

Shoko looked up from her computer, chestnut eyes briefly studying Satoru’s face. They flicked back to her screen after a moment.

“Wounds were inflicted antemortem; your vic was chopped up while he was alive. Blood had covered it initially, but there were ligatures around the wrists and ankles suggesting he’d been trussed up before he was cut up.” Shoko explained bluntly. “Still waiting on the toxicology report to come back, but other than that, his state matches up with the reports of past victims.”

Satoru pursed his lips thoughtfully, sitting on the edge of the desk. “You’ve worked on some of the past vics. Does this one look the same, or does he feel the same?” he asked her.

Shoko leaned back, crossing her arms as she considered the question. “Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t have the same knack for hunches as you. As far as I can tell, they’re exactly the same. Though, it wouldn’t be a stretch for someone to replicate if they had access to the autopsy reports and case files. They’d need an iron stomach though; my assistant had to take an early lunch when she heard what case was coming in.”

Satoru nodded, drumming his fingers against the desk. “Say, in the previous cases, you never found any bugs or the like among the remains, did you? This one had a worm cozied up inside his ribs.”

Shoko shook her head. “While it’s not unusual for there to be insect activity when the remains are left longer, there weren’t any worms on previous victims.”

“Well, it was raining earlier, so it’s possible one just crawled in.” Satoru shrugged. “I’ve just been having an off feeling lately, and the worm made me think it might’ve been something more, but I’m probably just overthinking it.”

Well, Satoru hadn’t meant to be this honest. He was trying to keep things surface level for the exact reason of not putting more on Shoko’s plate. She was clearly going through something and hadn’t told Satoru why, and while it hurt knowing she wasn’t allowing him to be there for her, especially now that she was really the only one he wanted to confide in, he didn’t want to make her worry about him on top of her own problems.

“The worm made you think of him, huh?” Shoko raised a brow, and Satoru shrugged again, too forced to be noncommittal. “It doesn’t match the signature. There’s also never been any connections between him and Ryoumen-kai even though he ran in those circles. Besides, you put him behind bars, remember?” Shoko reminded.

“It wasn’t just me,” Satoru interjected firmly before letting his shoulders slump. “Sorry, I know you’re trying to help.” He lowered his sunglasses, maintaining eye contact with his friend as he worked up the nerve to say what he wanted. “Shoko…you know you can tell me too, right? If…you know…there’s something going on?”

Shoko smiled, a wan one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Satoru hated the fact that it was the first one he’d seen in a while and it was so…disheartening.

“I know, Satoru.” She said, getting up from her chair. “I’ll tell you. At some point,” was all she could offer.

Satoru stuck his hands in his pockets, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling and zero in on a stain that looked kind of like a heart.

“That’s all I ask,” Satoru sighed quietly.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Yaga had made it clear how seriously this case was to be taken, not quite breathing down Satoru’s neck but close enough to the point where Satoru had bribed Ijichi into keeping his mouth shut when he left to go run down leads alone.

After two days of Satoru being up to his eyeballs in reports, tips, leads, extra sugary triple shot lattes, and avoiding Yaga, he still didn’t have any viable suspects.

Satoru wasn’t stupid. There had been something off from this case from the very start, and he’d rarely ever gotten bad feelings like this before. Sukuna killed at his own whim, so the fact that a confidential informant who had been feeding the police intel on his group meant that it was no surprise he ended up dead in a manner that was just like Sukuna’s past crimes.

But the fact that Sukuna had denied responsibility for the kill was also a detail Satoru couldn’t overlook.

The first time they’d spoken, Satoru had brazenly gone to question Sukuna, the prime suspect of his first high profile homicide. Sukuna hadn’t outright stated it, but he hadn’t denied the murder Satoru had been questioning him about then. The yakuza boss had been bored yet somehow condescendingly taunting, but there had been none of the same thinly veiled, suggestive language when Satoru had seen him this time around.

But what had really gotten Satoru’s mind working on the possibility of other suspects was that stupid worm.

He didn’t want to think about who it reminded him of. He didn’t want to consider the possibility of it being him, the man who ruined everything. It was Satoru’s own paranoia and overthinking that was even making him remember that man, especially because the anniversary of that case was coming up.

Satoru would admit it to no one—had no one to admit it to anymore—but he was maybe, perhaps, just a little stressed.

Chapter Text

Come Saturday, the case was three days old and Satoru was nowhere near the station.

Miraculously, Megumi had not only agreed to let Satoru meet Yuuji, but he had gone so far as to suggest inviting him to their monthly zoo visit.

If Satoru were to be honest, he’d already liked Yuuji before he’d even met him. How couldn’t he when Megumi had smiled as he’d briefly told Satoru about him? Clearly, Yuuji was already dear to Megumi, and Satoru liked him on that principle alone.

Satoru had a tendency to run on his own schedule, but Megumi had made sure that they were at the entrance to the zoo ten minutes before they were supposed to meet Yuuji.

Luckily for them, Yuuji arrived only a few minutes after they did.

“Hey! I hope you weren’t waiting too long for me.” Yuuji greeted, running up to them with a friendly grin.

“Not at all!” Tsumiki reassured with an equally amicable smile.

“Phew,” Yuuji exhaled in relief before he looked up at Satoru and then proceeded to bow. “Hello! My name is Itadori Yuuji! It’s nice to meet you, Gojo-san!”

Satoru grinned when Yuuji straightened back up, already taken with how bright and earnest the pink-haired boy seemed. He was the exact opposite of Megumi, yet they still managed to complement each other.

Seeing the cherry-blossom pink shade of Yuuji’s hair was interesting, considering there weren’t many people who had that color naturally. Satoru doubted the kid dyed it; he was a little young for that. In fact, the only other person with pink hair that Satoru knew was…

“It’s nice to finally meet you too, Yuuji-kun. Megumi and Tsumiki have told me so much about you.” Satoru laughed, making Megumi turn red and Tsumiki’s smile grow.

“Really?!” Yuuji’s eyes widened in disbelief, looking thrilled at the revelation. “What kind of things?” he prompted excitedly.

Any similarities Satoru had made of Yuuji with a certain yakuza who wanted him dead stopped there. There was no way Yuuji could be related to such a man when he was the complete opposite of him.

Satoru was more than happy to oblige Yuuji’s request, talking over Megumi’s attempts to stop him. Yuuji’s responses only matched his energy, and Satoru was already trying to figure out how to steal adopt him. The two of them were getting along like a house on fire, much to Megumi’s chagrin.

Satoru had already bought their tickets while they’d been waiting for Yuuji, so all they had to do was show them for admittance and enter the zoo.

The happy, smiley trio of Satoru, Tsumiki, and Yuuji combined with the sole exception of the reserved, placid Megumi made for an interesting group as they navigated through the crowd.

“Fushiguro mentioned that you come here once a month?” Yuuji prompted, looking up at Satoru.

“Yup, we have a whole itinerary we follow and everything.” Satoru hummed.

As if to contradict him, instead of going down the path that led to the reptile house, Megumi stopped and jerked a thumb in the opposite direction.

“Let’s go this way,” Megumi said.

Satoru blinked in surprise, sunglasses sliding down his nose a little, but he and the kids followed Megumi. The black-haired boy led them to the big cat exhibit, specifically the tigers. Satoru wondered why Megumi would take them here first, especially considering how much the boy disliked changes in routine.

“Wow! Look at the tigers! They’re so much bigger in person! They look so cool! Fushiguro, are you looking?” Yuuji cried out in excited glee, his entire face lit up as he dragged Megumi with him by the hand so that they could get closer to the glass.

Megumi hid a pleased smile as he let himself be tugged along.

Finally, it clicked for Satoru.

The white-haired man looked at Tsumiki, jaw dropped and eyes wide. She simply smiled serenely, and Satoru realized this was what she’d meant earlier. Yuuji was definitely a sweet boy, and now Satoru could see that he’d managed to be one of the few that Megumi had completely accepted into his small circle of people he cared about.

Megumi’s devotion was a quiet but powerful thing, and Satoru could only hope Yuuji would appreciate it.

After they finished looking at the tigers, they began with Megumi’s itinerary. This meant they saw the reptile exhibit containing a large albino python, the amphibian house next door with all of the frogs Megumi had not-so secretly named, the bird sanctuary where the four of them took selfies, and the section that had all the steer animals including oxen before they finally decided to take a break for lunch.

“Let’s sit over there.” Tsumiki suggested, pointing at a shaded spot underneath a large tree.

“Good eye, Tsumiki!” Satoru praised, patting her head and letting the sound of her giggle settle into his ears. “Why don’t I set up while you kids go buy lunch?” He suggested, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

“Oh, I probably should’ve mentioned this earlier, but I kinda made us food.” Yuuji piped up, looking bashful. “I got all excited because this is my first time going on an outing like this and I think I maybe went a little overboard.” He laughed as he unzipped his backpack and showed the plethora of onigiri and giant bottles of barley tea he had inside. “It’s all homemade, so I hope it tastes okay…”

“Yuuji-kun, you’re a literal angel and sunshine personified.” Satoru swooned, clasping his hands together. He was very, very close to just saying fuck it and stealing Yuuji to bring him into his little horde.

Yuuji blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. Megumi was being very unsubtle in how hard he was trying not to look at his friend.

Tsumiki helped Satoru set up their blankets and then Yuuji with doling out their picnic spread.

“Itadori-kun, you have to give me the recipe for these later. They’re so good!” Tsumiki praised, eyes sparkling as she munched on her onigiri.

“They were super easy to make; I’m sure even Fushiguro could do it.” Yuuji replied brightly, already beginning to list off the ingredients.

Megumi let out a little huff at the jab, and Satoru couldn’t help the fond smile that overtook his face as he watched the kids.

After lunch, they resumed following their itinerary with Tsumiki’s favorite animal: the elephants. Satoru took a very amusing video of Yuuji imitating a trumpeting elephant that had Tsumiki keeled over in laughter while Megumi rolled his eyes and hid another smile.

After the elephants, it was time to see Satoru’s favorite animals: the swans.

“Why do you like swans so much, Gojo-san?” Yuuji questioned as they looked over the railing into the pond. Tsumiki and Megumi had left with Satoru’s coin purse to get them all some drinks.

“Hm, I don’t know. They’re pretty to look at, I suppose. And they’re quite romantic,” Satoru answered with a considering hum. “Did you know that swans mate for life? They fall in love only once, and that love remains until even after death.”

Yuuji was awed by the fact, and he looked at the swans with a new fascination. “That is really romantic. Kinda sucks though. What happens to the swans when they lose their partner? Won’t they be really sad?” he frowned.

This was all hitting a little too close to home for Satoru, and he had to clear his throat.

“Yeah, they probably do get really sad.” Satoru agreed, searching for a particular set of swans before pointing at the only black and white pair. “There, do you see those ones?”

Yuuji squinted before zeroing in on the swans Satoru was talking about. “Yeah,” he nodded.

“Well, those two have been mates for fifteen years now.” Satoru revealed. “I found out when I asked one of the zookeepers a while back.”

“No way! Their relationship is older than me!” Yuuji gasped, making Satoru laugh.

“Don’t say that, otherwise you’ll make me feel old!” Satoru teased, gaze sweeping back to the swan pair.

Satoru still remembered the first time he’d come to the zoo, back when he was eighteen and naive. He’d told himself it was just a visit with a friend—a friend he may or may not have been quickly gaining feelings for—but he’d managed to enjoy himself without worrying about the implications for the majority of the trip. And then, his friend had gone and pointed out the black and white swan pair was just like them.

To this day, Satoru will maintain that he had a completely normal reaction to that. (He had not.)

Sue him, Satoru was attached to that stupid pair of swans and always checked to make sure they were okay every time he visited the zoo.

Megumi and Tsumiki finally returned with their drinks, and they decided to move onto the most anticipated portion of the visit: the petting zoo.

“Bunnies!” Yuuji squealed, immediately zeroing in on the fluffy little critters and hopping over. Predictably, Megumi followed.

“The deer are always so sweet,” Tsumiki cooed as she gently petted a doe that came over to her.

“Why am I always running from the goats?!” Satoru complained, lifting his arm up when one of said goats tried to nibble on his sleeve. He escaped over to where the sheep were, sighing in relief and sinking his hands into plush wool as he relaxed with a little lamb.

Twenty minutes later, the group left the petting zoo with their hands washed and cuddled out for the time being.

“I think it’s the perfect time for ice cream, don’t you?” Satoru proposed. “Get me my usual! A triple scoop, extra sauce, fruit-topped, brown sugar cone,” he said as he handed his credit card over to Megumi. “I’ll be over here saving us this bench.”

Megumi tsked. “You just don’t wanna wait in line.”

The line was sizable, and Satoru just flashed him an innocent smile as he shooed them away.

Satoru claimed the bench as promised, stretching his long legs atop it since he knew it was only one large enough to hold the four of them left available. He hummed under his breath, flicking through the pictures he’d been taking from their zoo visit so far and adding cute little stickers to them. He made the selfie he took of himself cheek to cheek with a bunny his home screen.

Satoru was in the process of making his lock screen the picture of the four of them together when he felt it.

Satoru knew the feeling of being watched all too well, especially when there was ill intent fueling the gaze. He straightened, keeping the movement casual and making it seem like he was stretching as he surveyed the area around him from behind his sunglasses.

Even considering the fact that there were so many people, Satoru usually didn’t have this much trouble trying to locate someone amiss in the crowd. It meant whoever this was knew how to conceal themselves. They also probably knew exactly where Satoru’s very tiny blind spot was and had adjusted accordingly.

A bead of sweat that wasn’t from the heat trickled down Satoru’s neck. He hadn’t felt this particular prickling in years. The question was whether Satoru was just paranoid, or had the highly unlikely possibility Satoru had been dreading come to pass?

“We’re back with your monstrosity of an order.” Megumi sighed as he and the kids returned, keeping Satoru from getting any further with his train of thought.

“Thanks, Megumin~” Satoru crooned, taking his cone from the boy. He swung his legs over the edge, making room for the kids to sit down on the bench.

“Don’t call me that,” Megumi’s expression soured as he claimed the opposite end of the bench.

“Megumin!” Yuuji repeated with glee as he plopped down next to the other boy. “Please let me call you that too! It’s perfect!” he begged.

“No,” Megumi huffed.

Tsumiki didn’t bother hiding her giggle as she scooted in next to Satoru. “You totally should, Itadori-kun. He’s not actually gonna do anything about it if you do.”

Yuuji’s eyes lit up as Megumi’s scowl deepened.

Thankfully, the sugary treat and seeing the kids banter helped Satoru’s nerves—they always tended to, but Satoru was still tempted to call it a day. However, he knew Megumi wouldn’t forgive him if they left without seeing his favorite animals. The boy always liked to leave them for last.

So, they enjoyed their ice creams and then headed for the wolf enclosure. Now, Megumi loved all animals, and he definitely had his favorites, but nothing compared for the affection he held toward anything lupine.

Satoru could tell that Yuuji understood this, because when Megumi was unreservedly telling the other boy not just about wolves but specifically these wolves that he’d spent so much time watching and studying, Yuuji’s responding enthusiasm was gentle and receptive, listening intently to every word. It was a stark contrast to his loud and boisterous responses to the animal trivia Megumi had been feeding him all day.

Satoru wasn’t going to lie, seeing them together had his chest bursting with a tenderness he hadn’t felt this strongly in a while. It made him feel equally as fragile as it did touched. Satoru wanted to protect them—wanted to protect this budding affection between these two kind, innocent boys so that the world couldn’t hurt them the way it had hurt him and…

Tsumiki slipped her hand into Satoru’s, giving it a squeeze as she looked up at him with a light, reassuring smile.

“Good?” Tsumiki whispered questioningly.

Satoru wiped off whatever emotion must’ve shown on his face, replacing it with a grin as he swung his and Tsumiki’s hands around and made her giggle.

“Good,” Satoru replied with an equally soft tone. He was supposed to be the adult here, but somehow Tsumiki always seemed to have the emotional intelligence to know what was wrong and she would unfailingly try her best to fix it.

Satoru truly didn’t deserve her or Megumi, but he had them now and he would make sure that nothing would ever happen to them.

Megumi and Yuuji returned to Satoru and Tsumiki, marking the end of their visit to the exhibits. They made their way to the exit, but before they hit the gates, both Yuuji and Megumi stopped.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop real quick! Pardon me!” Yuuji blurted before running off.

“That guy…” Megumi’s brow furrowed. “I’m going, too.” He declared before stalking off as well.

Satoru decided to wait outside, he could see clearly into the gift shop and wouldn’t be able to lose sight of the boys, so he would give them these few minutes of semi-privacy.

“You should go too, Miki.” Satoru nudged the girl. “Pick out whatever you want. It’s on me, of course.”

“No, thanks.” Tsumiki shook her head, keeping her small hand clasped in Satoru’s larger one. “I want to stay with you for now, Gojo-san.”

Satoru felt his chest tighten again, and he squeezed Tsumiki’s hand. “Alright, then. Whatever you want,” he repeated in a softer tone.

When Megumi and Yuuji returned, both of them were lit up and had blushes high on their cheeks. Yuuji’s smile was as bright as the sun whereas Megumi’s was gentler but no less radiant, much like the moon. The way they complemented each other was starting to get ridiculous, and Satoru didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

“So, Yuuji-kun, what did you end up getting?” Satoru prompted curiously.

“We got each other matching charms!” Yuuji replied brightly, brandishing the cute little tiger charm that Megumi had bought him hanging off his phone.

Satoru’s grin was an excited, teasing thing, honing in on the already bristling Megumi.

“Me-gu-mi-chan~” Satoru sang, “won’t you show us what Yuuji-kun so thoughtfully got you in return?”

Megumi crossed his arms, scowling so impressively that he could give Kento a run for his money.

“Oh, c’mon, show them! I found you the coolest one and everything!” Yuuji pouted, turning puppy eyes onto the black-haired boy.

Of course it would be Yuuji that got Megumi to cave. He sighed, taking out his phone and letting Satoru and Tsumiki ogle the wolf charm that dangled off his device.

Ugh, they’re too precious. Satoru thought, taking in a deep breath. However, Satoru being Satoru, opened his mouth and said everything but the true thoughts on his mind.

“Megumi, how could you?! After all the times I brought you to the zoo, you’ve never bought anything for me!” Satoru cried, an arm going to cover his eyes as he sniffled dramatically. “Does my love and hard work mean nothing to you?!”

Tsumiki and Yuuji both started to giggle, and Megumi let out an aggravated grumble.

“Okay, that’s it, we’re going.” Megumi grabbed Yuuji’s wrist and started to drag them off, not wanting to deal with Satoru’s teasing.

Normally, Satoru would let them be, give Megumi a few minutes away from his overbearingness. However, after the uneasy feeling of being watched earlier, Satoru didn’t want to risk it.

“Now, now, wait for us! We can’t have you wandering off into the parking lot and getting snatched up.” Satoru tutted, ushering Tsumiki along with him by their still-joined grip. Satoru would rather Megumi be annoyed with him than risk any threat to his safety, so he continued on. “Now, Yuuji-kun, I insist we escort you home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Yuuji tried to assure him.

“It’ll make me feel better seeing you dropped off at your doorstep,” Satoru shook his head. “Chalk it up to the public safety officer in me.”

“If it’s no trouble then…” Yuuji gave in, giving Satoru a small smile.

Even Megumi had perked up, looking forward to spending more time with Yuuji.

If the outing proved anything, it was that Yuuji fit seamlessly into their little trio and that Satoru and Yuuji had truly hit it off. On the bus, the two of them carried conversation with animated gestures and nonsensical trains of thought that had Megumi staring in judgment and Tsumiki observing with fascination.

Satoru was elated with how well he was able to mesh with Yuuji, and he’d go so far as to say the boy reminded him of his coworker Yuu’s infectious, sunny personality. Satoru couldn’t wait to gush to Kento and Yuu about Yuuji when he showed them the pictures and videos he’d taken from today.

The walk to Yuuji’s house was about ten minutes from the bus stop, and the sun was already setting. Satoru got on his phone and ordered a cab so that it would be at Yuuji’s address (which he’d gotten from being a nosy detective with full access to a people finder and hunting down information on Yuuji’s grandfather) by the time they finished dropping him off.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Tsumiki remarked wistfully as she glanced around. The houses were older and cozy, looking especially more appealing in the golden rays of the setting sun.

Satoru felt a pang of guilt, knowing that she probably wished to live in a house too. He already knew Megumi wished for the same; he’d always wanted dogs but of course Satoru’s apartment didn’t allow them.

The easiest solution was to move. It wasn’t as if Satoru couldn’t afford it, but Satoru couldn’t bring himself to leave the apartment he’d bought with his partner. Part of him still hoped that one day he’d return from work to find his one and only had come back home to him.

“This is it!” Yuuji chirped when they reached his house, drawing Satoru out of his thoughts. “Thank you for letting me come along with you all today. It was super fun and I hope we can do it again!” He grinned, wrapping Tsumiki and Megumi up in a huge hug before giving one to Satoru too.

“Of course,” Satoru smiled down at the boy as he patted his head. “You’re more than welcome to join us going forward if you want, Yuuji-kun.”

Yuuji beamed up at him, waving as he headed up his walkway.

“Bye! See you at school!” Yuuji said before swinging the door open and going inside. They could hear the muffled sounds of him calling for his grandfather.

A few moments later, the cab Satoru ordered turned down the street and Megumi and Tsumiki looked at it in surprise.

“Taxi for Gojo-san?” The driver rolled down the window.

“That’s us!” Satoru confirmed, opening the door so the kids could get in first.

“Is there a reason we can’t take the subway like always?” Megumi questioned warily as the three of them got into the cab.

“Eh, it’s been a long day and I don’t want to deal with the crowds on the way back.” Satoru brushed him off. He wouldn’t admit aloud that he was starting to feel antsy about staying out in public. If they were to get on the train right now, they’d just become sitting ducks if they really were being targeted.

Satoru didn’t relax until they were back at the apartment, and he shooed Megumi and Tsumiki into the living room to go unwind as he heated them up some leftovers for dinner.

It was a calm affair, Satoru less rowdy than usual and content to let Tsumiki and Megumi’s conversation wash over him as they ate.

The wind-down to bedtime passed in a blur, and after the kids had gone off to their respective rooms, Satoru went and plopped down on the couch so that he was facing the front entrance. He didn’t go so far as to keep his gun on him, leaving the firearm secured in his gun safe, but he did keep his phone clenched tightly in his hand and he had Megumi’s baseball bat propped up next to him.

Satoru stayed like that until his phone rang with his morning alarm. Sighing, Satoru rubbed his tired eyes and gathered up the scraps of motivation he needed in order to get off the couch and get ready for the day.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru spent his Sunday with Megumi and Tsumiki, tucked away in their apartment and doing his best to not think about what the next day held. By this point, both of the kids knew the eve of the anniversary was upon them, one of three different days of the year where Satoru would make himself scarce for a period of time only to come back clingier and starved for closeness.

All Satoru had ever disclosed to Tsumiki and Megumi was that the anniversary was of a girl he’d lost during a case. What he didn’t tell them was that while he’d regretted what had happened to her, Satoru didn’t clam up out of grief.

No, the anniversary was the one day a year that he would call Satoru.

The only good thing about it was that the call could only come in on Satoru’s work phone at the station, so he wouldn’t be around the kids when he did receive the call.

Satoru wondered if he could convince Shoko to go out for drinks with him tomorrow night. He could never stand alcohol, but he knew she preferred it. Maybe it would even help them open up to each other again. Satoru missed her.

Thankfully, for today at least, Megumi and Tsumiki were amenable to letting Satoru try to distract them through playing board games and then trying and somewhat succeeding at a new recipe for cookies.

The day passed too quickly for Satoru’s liking, and he found himself staying behind on the couch again when Megumi and Tsumiki retired to bed.

Megumi paused when he saw that Satoru hadn’t moved. “You’re gonna sit there all night again?” the boy asked him.

Satoru propped his cheek on his fist. “Why do you think I didn’t go to bed last night?” he returned.

“Because I didn’t hear your door. Stop being difficult,” Megumi crossed his arms. “What’s wrong? You’re not usually this worked up.”

“You know,” Satoru waved his hand in a vague motion, “the anniversary is coming up. That’s all. Just a little jumpy.”

Megumi narrowed his eyes at the white-haired man, and in that moment, he looked like the spitting image of him. Granted, a miniature, spiky-haired version, but still close enough that Satoru felt his brow twitch.

“If you say so,” Megumi finally said. “Goodnight. Try to get some sleep this time.” He sighed as he turned and went down the hallway.

“Goodnight,” Satoru echoed as Megumi’s door closed shut. He sighed as he leaned back into the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling.

It had been a good weekend all things considered. Satoru always treasured the time he was able to spend with the kids.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day, Satoru just knew it. He could only hope that his break away from work would lead to an actual break in the case. He could already hear the earful he was going to get from Yaga for not checking in with any progress. However, the fact that the older man hadn’t blown his phone up meant that he didn’t mind allowing Satoru the reprieve and was dealing with the heat from upstairs in the meanwhile.

Not to mention, Satoru never did like having to talk to him, even if it was just over the phone.

Deciding to follow Megumi’s advice, Satoru allowed himself to rest his eyes and try drifting off.

Satoru felt like he’d only been dozing for a few moments when his phone rang. He inhaled sharply, picking up the device and staring at the screen. It was midnight on the dot and the caller ID was blocked.

His heart hammered in his throat and his stomach churned restlessly, but Satoru still hit the answer call button as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s been awhile, Gojo Satoru.”

Chapter Text

Satoru’s breath caught in his throat, fingers clenched around his phone so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

There had been no automated message, no robotic voice asking if he wanted to accept the charges from Fuchū Prison.

Satoru was being called from a burner phone.

When the hell had he gotten out and why had Satoru not been notified like the paperwork clearly specified?

Satoru could almost see the way the other’s lips were peeled back in a smirk, and he steeled himself as he finally replied.

“Toji,” Satoru greeted flatly. “When did you get out?”

“Oh, you know, recently enough. Not that I was supposed to be inside for that long to begin with. Just another thing I get to thank you for,” Toji answered.

“What do you want?” Satoru demanded, keeping his tone even.

“Parenthood looks good on you,” Toji drawled. “You and the kids almost looked like a real family. You know what was missing? Your partner. You two were joined at the hip before. What, did he run at the thought of commitment with you?” The older man chuckled, the sound somehow darker and crueler than the one that lurked in Satoru’s nightmares.

“Why, Toji, it almost sounds like you’re flirting with me now that you don’t see Suguru around. Did prison change your tastes?” Satoru laughed instead, forced playfulness in his tone.

“I think you’ve forgotten something in the two years you’ve been playing house, Gojo Satoru.” Toji growled, sending a shiver down Satoru’s spine. “Those are my kids. You think you can sign some papers and make them yours? I’m gonna collect what’s mine and repay you for everything, pretty boy.”

CLICK.

Satoru sat there, mouth dry, slowly lowering the phone to stare at the lock screen of himself and the kids.

Torn between nausea and numbness, Satoru dialed the number of the only person he could rely on to keep him grounded right now. After a few rings, the call was answered.

“Satoru?”

Satoru let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Hey, Captain.” Satoru greeted with as light a tone he could manage. “Looks like we’ve got a bit of a problem…”

Yaga sighed, and Satoru latched onto the familiarity of the sound.

“Go on.”

“Toji’s out.”

“…I’ll assign a protective detail to your home within the hour.”

“Thanks,” Satoru sighed in relief. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Check in often, Satoru. I mean it.” Yaga ordered, concern hovering at the edges of his harsh tone.

“…yeah,” Satoru said quietly. “Night, Cap.”

“Get some rest, Satoru. You’ll need it.”

Satoru laughed, shoulders shaking as he hung up. The chuckles ceased, but the trembling didn’t.

Satoru stared at his phone, opening his contacts and letting his finger hover over Suguru’s name. Had Suguru known about Toji being free? Or was he just as unaware as Satoru had been?

Two years apart, and Satoru was still giving Suguru the benefit of the doubt. He opened up a new email addressed to Suguru, taking a deep breath as he typed out his message.

[That annoying bastard’s out of jail.]

Satoru hit send before he could talk himself out of it. This wasn’t the first email he’d sent to Suguru since their separation, and he doubted he’d receive a reply.

Satoru could only hope Suguru still had access to the account.

I’m going to kill that idiot if he blocked me. Satoru thought, brow furrowing as he let out an annoyed tsk.

Satoru closed his eyes again, letting out a deep breath. He listened to the patter of the rain against the windows, trying to focus on the noise so that it would help him relax.

Predictably, he did not get a wink of sleep.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru walked into the station the next morning the same way he did every morning: not a single daisy-white strand out of place, Dior lip oil glinting off his smiling mouth, dressed in his usual suit and sunglasses, a triple shot extra caramel latte in one hand, and his briefcase in the other.

The only difference was the addition of Megumi and Tsumiki, both children clutching little cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Neither was in their school uniform, but they did have their backpacks with them.

Megumi and Tsumiki were looking around the building with unconcealed interest, eyes wide and curious. Satoru had never taken them to the station before, so he had expected their inquisitiveness.

He had also expected the surprised looks and dropped jaws from the other officers and assistants considering he hadn’t informed anyone he was going to be bringing the kids with him today.

When they reached the bullpen, Satoru led Megumi and Tsumiki over to where the detectives’ desks were. Kento and Yuu’s were across from Satoru’s and a currently unoccupied one.

“Senpai, you didn’t mention you were bringing Tsumiki-chan and Megumi-kun today!” Yuu admonished, getting up with the aid of his crutch. He’d taken a bad fall during a scuffle with a suspect two weeks ago and had been put on light duty until further notice.

“Haibara-san!” Tsumiki squealed, rushing over to hug him.

Yuu opened his free arm wide, wobbling a little when Tsumiki wrapped her arms around him.

Kento had gotten up when he’d seen the accident waiting to happen and made it in time to place a grounding hand against Yuu’s back, keeping both brunets from falling over.

“Be more careful,” Kento scolded with a sigh.

“Oops, I’m sorry, Haibara-san…” Tsumiki went to pull away, chastised.

“It’s no biggie. Just because my knee’s healing doesn’t mean I’m helpless.” Yuu smiled down at the girl, patting her shoulder. “Besides, that’s why I have Kento to watch my back.” He shot a beaming grin and a thumbs up at his partner.

Satoru couldn’t help the small smile that settled over his lips at the little display of faith and trust between his coworkers. He was glad they had each other; they were a stable partnership. Kento and Yuu were precious to him, both as a set and separately.

He tried not to look over at the empty desk next to his, but the images of his other half and the prim and tidy way he’d kept his space flashed through his mind anyway.

“Is that really what a dead body looks like?” Megumi asked, pointing at the whiteboard where Satoru had put up photos from the first crime scene.

Satoru cleared his throat when Kento glared at him, flipping the board over. “Okay, maybe don’t look around too much.”

“Gojo-san, why did you bring them to the office in the first place?” Kento asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, you didn’t explain anything. You just said we’re not going to school for a couple of days and then made us come with you.” Megumi frowned, also crossing his arms.

The sight of Megumi and Kento mirroring each other’s surliness and body language was an amusing one that Satoru was sorely tempted to take a picture of. However, before he could whip his phone out, Yaga marched over, clearly having caught notice of his arrival.

“Satoru. We need to talk. Now.” Yaga ordered, leaving no room for argument.

Satoru turned to Megumi and Tsumiki, cupping a hand over the side of his mouth. “This guy’s basically your grandpa, so make sure to call him Gramps, okay?” He spoke in a loud whisper as he pointed at Yaga.

A vein in Yaga’s forehead throbbed, and Satoru smiled cheekily at him.

“Really?” Tsumiki blinked in surprise, turning to Yaga and bowing. “It’s nice to meet you, Grandpa.” She greeted sweetly.

Yaga’s scowl shrunk, and Satoru’s smile grew.

“Nice to meet you…” Megumi said quietly, polite as always with any adult that wasn’t Satoru.

Yaga’s brow twitched, and after a moment, he turned away from Satoru so he could address Megumi and Tsumiki.

“It’s very good to meet you kids,” Yaga said evenly. “It seems Satoru has been taking decent care of you.”

“He’s amazing!” Tsumiki declared with a beatific smile.

“…he’s alright,” Megumi shrugged.

Satoru laid a hand over his heart, a touched grin spreading over his face as his eyes shone warmly.

Yaga nodded, jerking a thumb at Satoru. “I need to speak with him for a few minutes, so we need you both to stay here in the meanwhile.”

“Okay,” Tsumiki agreed as Megumi nodded.

“Keep an eye on them, will you?” Yaga spoke to Kento and Yuu.

“I was planning on it anyway,” Yuu assured as he gave Yaga a little salute. “Come here, Megumi-kun! I’ll show you and Tsumiki-chan how cool my desk is.” He waved the boy over with a laugh.

Kento shot Satoru a disapproving frown, making it clear he wasn’t going to let the earlier matter go.

Satoru picked his poison, knowing that for now at least he could have some privacy in Yaga’s office.

“Alright, Cap, let’s chat.” Satoru said, turning on his heel.

Yaga let out a breath, nodding as he and Satoru headed for his office. He made sure the door was closed properly and then shuttered the blinds before turning to face Satoru.

“How bad is it?” Yaga asked without further preamble.

Satoru sat on the edge of Yaga’s desk, leaning back on his palms as he crossed one long leg over the other.

“He’s going to try to take them back.” Satoru finally said with a chilly smile. “He’ll have to do it over my dead body, which he’s very eager to make happen.”

Yaga’s jaw clenched, reaching a hand up to massage his temple. “I know you’re the victim here, but why do I have the feeling that you said something to only rile him up more?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Satoru replied blithely. “Like you said, I’m an innocent victim and I’ve got the scars to prove it.”

Yaga’s brow furrowed, an expression of guilt and concern creeping onto his face. However, when he spoke, he didn’t address Satoru’s comment.

“I got a hold of the prison warden.” Yaga began, making Satoru straighten up as he listened carefully. “Five days ago, Fushiguro Toji had a parole hearing and was subsequently released the same day. He missed his official check in with his parole officer and is considered a fugitive. BOLOs have been put out on him.”

“We were supposed to be notified of any changes to his status.” Satoru said in frustration. “What the hell happened?”

“Apparently, they had marked us off as notified, but no calls were made and the official notice just came in this morning.” Yaga explained with a tsk.

Satoru groaned, a hand going to the mostly concealed scar on his forehead as he let out a disbelieving laugh. “It never fails to amaze me how inefficient this system is. If Toji wasn’t so invested in trying to psych me out first, something could’ve already happened to the kids.”

Yaga twitched, and if Satoru hadn’t known the man for so long, he would’ve missed how his frown went from irritated to sulky.

“What?” Satoru raised a brow. “Out with it, Captain.”

Yaga crossed his arms as he scowled. “If I’m supposed to be their grandfather, how come you never let me meet them before?” He demanded.

Satoru’s jaw dropped, one of the rare times he’d been caught off guard. “You’re busier than I am!” was the first thing he blurted out. “And you yelled at me when I told you I was taking custody of them!” he pointed an accusing finger at the other.

“You still adopted them!” Yaga threw his hands up in the air. “I expect you to call me first the next time you need someone to watch them.” He growled, pointing a finger right back at Satoru.

“I can’t believe you’re taking this so seriously…” Satoru sighed, shaking his head.

“Satoru, I took you in when you were eight years old.” Yaga reminded gravely. “If there’s anything I deserve as compensation for making sure you didn’t get yourself killed and putting up with your antics in general, it’s quality time with my grandkids.” He stated firmly.

Satoru paused, realizing that Yaga truly was treating Megumi and Tsumiki as if they were Satoru’s kids. He’d long since accepted Yaga as his father figure, even if he’d only tell the older man upon pain of death. However, as much as Satoru adored Megumi and Tsumiki, he’d never been able to consider himself as their parental figure.

“…they’re not… I’m just their guardian.” Satoru finally ended up muttering lamely.

Yaga raised a brow, tilting his head so that he was looking at Satoru from behind his own pair of shades.

“Who’s putting a roof over their heads? Who’s making sure they never go hungry? Who’s putting them through school? Who’s making sure they’ve always got someone looking after them? Who’s caring for them when they’ve been hurt? Who took them in so that they wouldn’t have to fend for themselves in this world?”

Obviously, Satoru was. But that wasn’t the dilemma here. He drummed his fingers on Yaga’s desk, a sigh leaving him as he considered how to reply.

“You make a good point, but… they don’t even know that I’m the one who was responsible for taking their father away from them in the first place.” Satoru admitted, watching as the furrow in Yaga’s brow deepened.

Satoru knew that even if Toji wasn’t a particularly good parental figure, he was their father.

Satoru had been prepared to take whatever blame and accusation the kids could have for being the reason Toji was in prison, but he had let Megumi’s indifference convince him into keeping silent on the matter with the promise to explain if they ever asked.

The issue had become unavoidable now. Satoru was still ready to face the kids’ judgment, but he was worried that it was only going to be harder for him to protect them once he came clean.

Yaga opened his mouth, clearly about to drop some hard-knocked wisdom into Satoru, but his desk phone rang and cut off whatever he was about to say. Letting out an aggrieved sigh, Yaga rounded the desk to pick up the call.

“Captain Yaga Masamichi speaking.” Yaga answered. Satoru watched as his grip tightened around the phone, teeth grinding as he listened intently. “I’ll be there with the lead detective in twenty minutes.” He stated, slamming the receiver down as he looked at Satoru. “Goddamn!” he cursed. “We’ve got a double: uniformed officers only a couple blocks away from the first scene.”

Satoru got off Yaga’s desk, already on his way to the door. “Any more details?” he prompted.

“Yeah.” Yaga grunted, looking more incensed than Satoru had seen in a long time. “They were decapitated.”

“Oh.” Satoru grimaced as they re-entered the bullpen. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad.”

“Are you leaving?”

Satoru stopped in his tracks, turning back to see Tsumiki peering up at him curiously.

Satoru cleared his throat, putting a hand on her head. He remembered when she was small enough for his hand to cover her entire head, yet here they were two years later with him only able to cover the top of it.

“Yeah, something bad happened so the captain and I need to go handle it. Kento and Yuu will keep you both company.”

“Does that mean when you come back, Tsumiki and I will be able to go back to school?” Megumi questioned, having slunk over like a silent cat.

Satoru patted his head too, finding some comfort in the fact Megumi hadn’t changed too much. The boy scowled up at him, pushing his hand away.

“We’ll talk when I get back.” Satoru sighed, sensing that Yaga was about to cut in any moment.

“Promise?” Megumi demanded, brow furrowed as he puffed up. It tickled Satoru how he was trying to exude intimidation, but it was more adorable than it was anything else.

“Promise,” Satoru agreed.

“Be careful.” Tsumiki was frowning, looking much more worried than she normally was.

It occurred to Satoru it was different for the kids to see him fly off from the station compared to when they were at home, so he put on one of his biggest grins in an effort to reassure them.

“Be back before you know it,” he said.

“Satoru!” Yaga called.

Satoru turned, offering one last wave to the kids before he followed after his captain.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

The scene was tense when Satoru and Yaga arrived, and Satoru figured it had both to do with fellow officers being dead coupled with the brutal nature of the murders.

Kawasaki Hanta and Tokuda Fuu. Beat cops who had patrolled the same area for the past two years. They had responded to many calls involving Ryoumen-kai. Satoru had read through all the call records on the drive over, but he found nothing that he thought could warrant this type of retaliation.

The bodies were in the middle of an alleyway not too far from where the first murder had occurred. They were found on their stomachs, and the gashed stumps of their necks were facing each other, only a few feet apart. Their blood had already flowed together into one giant pool, leaving it hard to tell where Kawasaki’s began and Tokuda’s ended.

Kawasaki’s hand was outstretched, reaching for Tokuda’s body but falling short by scant inches.

“Where are the heads?” Satoru finally spoke, addressing the closest crime scene tech.

“We don’t know.” Nitta answered, biting her lip. “We’re still looking.”

“He took them?” Yaga’s lips were pressed into a fine line.

Satoru shook his head. “No, he doesn’t take trophies like that.” He said, neither of them specifying which ‘he’ they were talking about. “Did you find anything on the bodies? Bugs? Worms, maybe?” he asked Nitta.

“We’re waiting for the coroner to arrive so we can move the bodies, but nothing like that yet.” Nitta replied.

Satoru considered the crime from Sukuna’s perspective. Whether it had been him or Toji pretending to be Sukuna, it still came back to the yakuza boss’s methodology.

Sukuna killed indiscriminately: traitors, other criminals, lawyers, civilians, it didn’t matter. However, there had only been one officer they could attribute directly to Sukuna. Every other officer had been taken care of by his gang, but there was once an older detective from before Satoru’s time who had gone missing some years ago.

Sukuna was the main suspect because the last thing the older detective had been investigating was Ryoumen-kai. A few days after his disappearance, his fingers and heart were delivered to the station and his family.

The fact that Kawasaki and Tokuda were found like this was meant to show escalation as well as to stir up members of law enforcement both on the case and not.

What would make this brutal scene even worse? What would serve to further mock the dead and taunt the living?

Satoru bent down and swiped a pair of nitrile gloves from Nitta’s kit, snapping them on as he began searching the alley.

“Don’t tell me…” Yaga muttered when he realized the pattern of where Satoru was looking.

Satoru lifted the lid of the third trash can, clicking his tongue. Sometimes, it really sucks having my hunches be right. He thought as he took in the sight before him.

The officers’ missing heads were in the garbage, left positioned so that their bloody, teary faces bearing the devastated expressions of their last moments would greet whoever discovered them.

“That bastard…” Yaga growled when he saw the remains. “Whichever one of them did it, we’re going to nail him.”

Satoru grimaced when a worm crawled out of Tokuda’s mouth, slowly climbing over her lips and inching toward her nose.

“Message received.” Satoru sighed, waving Nitta over so she could collect the worm.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

It was two hours later when they finally returned to the station. Satoru had been ready to go earlier, but Yaga refused to let him leave without him.

Honestly? Satoru doubted Toji would make a move this soon. The older man was the patient type and would draw it out, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

However, Satoru knew Yaga was only trying to look out for him, which was why he’d actually listened for once and waited for the older man to wrap up his business.

When the duo were only a few dozen paces from the bullpen, Kento stepped out and crossed his arms.

“Captain, may I borrow Gojo-san?” He questioned, tone making it clear that he was only asking out of politeness and it wasn’t actually a request.

Yaga snorted, waving dismissively as he continued on his way to his office and left Satoru at Kento’s mercy.

“Kento, I—” Satoru began with a disarming smile.

“No.” Kento shook his head, pointing in the direction behind them. “Break room,” he ordered curtly.

“Geez, which one of us is the senpai here?” Satoru complained with a pout, straightening up when Kento’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, okay!” he turned, heading to the break room with Kento behind him. He felt vaguely like a prisoner being marched to the execution platform, glancing at the blond warily when they finally arrived at their destination.

Satoru made a beeline for the cabinet, grabbing his and Kento’s mugs. Kento’s was a sensible beige cup that had been gifted to him by Yuu. What Kento didn’t know was that Satoru had given Yuu the diabolical idea to buy a prank mug that looked unassuming everywhere except for the bottom, which had a cutesy cat mouth painted on it.

Kento had had the mug for six months and was none the wiser, much to Satoru and Yuu’s utter glee.

Satoru’s mug was part of a stacking set, and both cups had the initials GS scribbled on the bottom in marker. He grabbed the black one, leaving the white one in the cabinet.

“Thank you,” Kento said when Satoru handed him his mug. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you going to avoid the issue again?” He raised a brow as he poured himself and Satoru coffee.

“That’s good.” Satoru said when Kento had filled his cup about halfway, going over to the fridge to grab some milk. “Well, I’m guessing you saw the BOLO.” He finally said as he added a generous amount of cream to his coffee before adding a splash to Kento’s just how the blond liked it.

“Yuu and I both did,” Kento confirmed as Satoru put the carton back. “We made sure the kids didn’t.”

Satoru’s shoulders slumped, not having considered that possibility before Kento had mentioned it. “Thanks.” He said, both for the other’s forethought and for handing him the sugar.

“Did he threaten to take them back?” Kento asked, sharp eyes observing Satoru. He wrinkled his nose like he usually tended to do when he saw the obscene servings of sugar Satoru was dumping into his coffee.

“Yeah,” Satoru confirmed as he stirred his drink. “That’s why I can’t afford for them to be out of my sight. The only people I can trust with the kids right now are you, Yuu, and the Captain.” He admitted as he aimed a small smile at Kento.

Of course, Satoru trusted Shoko and by extension Utahime too, but they weren’t trained officers. That wasn’t to say neither of them could hold their own if push came to shove, but Satoru didn’t want to drag them into this mess if he could help it.

“The childrens’ health and safety are our top priority,” Kento agreed. “It won’t be an easy feat to get to them through us.” He assured as he took a sip of his coffee, staring at Satoru with a look the latter couldn’t decipher before he spoke again. “He’s going to try to kill you again, isn’t he?” he stated quietly.

Satoru’s smile was supposed to be easygoing, meant to comfort his friend and junior, but he had the feeling he was falling short based off Kento’s deepening frown.

“The sooner I manage to find solid evidence linking Toji to the crimes, the sooner I can arrest him again and make sure he can’t hurt anyone else.” Satoru said instead, taking a measured sip of his drink. “This time, I’ll make sure that he’s never getting out of prison again. He needs to spend the rest of his life rotting away and repenting for the blood on his hands like he deserves.”

There was silence after his statement, and Satoru didn’t feel any ounce of shame over the rage and disgust he’d let slip through his normally careful mask.

Kento had never quite understood Satoru or his emotions—only one person ever had, and his mug was currently being held in the cradle of Satoru’s long fingers—but the blond respected him despite his claims otherwise.

“Just don’t be reckless again,” Kento grumbled after they had both finished their coffees. “Yuu and I like being godfathers; don’t make us guardians on top of that.” He said wearily, taking Yuu’s cup out of the cabinet. It was a plain white one with a single sunflower that he’d gotten Yuu after the latter had gifted him his mug.

Satoru huffed, setting his cup down in the sink to wash later (he was going to forget about it completely). “You have that little faith in me, Kento?” He pouted as he watched the blond make two more cups of coffee.

“You required surgery because of him. You and Getou-san were not the same after. This isn’t about faith.” Kento replied, looking tense. “This is about history repeating itself.”

Satoru thought about the scar on his forehead and the one crossing from his chest to hip, the x-shaped scar on Suguru’s own torso, and the bullet hole in the head of a girl he’d failed to protect.

Satoru thought of Megumi and Tsumiki, huddled at his desk with Yuu watching over them. He thought of the neglected state he found them in and how he made sure they never lacked for affection now.  He thought of making them relive the loss of an adult who was supposed to take care of them and the grief that would follow.

“I’m not the same naive rookie I was when Toji came around the first time.” Satoru finally said, going over to the vending machines by the wall. “I’ve got the highest closure rate in the department for a reason, remember? I’m the best,” he smiled brightly.

“You’re making me think unprofessional thoughts again,” Kento tsked.

“Kento, you’re a taken man.” Satoru simpered, inserting some bills into the snack machine. He picked out Megumi’s favorite lemon ginger candies and Tsumiki’s strawberry milk ones.

“Go the opposite direction: they’re purely homicidal.” Kento muttered before he let out a sigh. “Maybe if we put you in a cage with some fake money as incentive, Fushiguro Toji will show up…” the blond mused.

“Kento, was that a joke?!” Satoru’s jaw dropped as he pointed at the other in shock. “I want to be proud, but why was it at my expense?!” he whined.

“We should get back now, anyway. The kids have been worried.” Kento decided, picking up his mug and Yuu’s.

Satoru pouted at Kento the entire trip back to the bullpen, but his expression cleared to make room for a wide smile when he saw Megumi and Tsumiki.

“Gojo-san!” Tsumiki gasped, barrelling into the white-haired man when he got close. “You’re back…” she breathed in relief.

“Of course. I promised, didn’t I?” Satoru hugged her back. “I even got you and Megumi some treats~” He revealed, pulling the goodies out of his pockets.

“Thank you!” Tsumiki chirped as she took the strawberry candies, beaming up at him. “I’m glad you’re safe, Gojo-san.”

Warmth bloomed in Satoru’s chest, and his smile softened as he patted her head.

Kento shot Satoru a look, knowing and vaguely accusatory. Satoru resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at him.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Megumi piped up, looking grumpy.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Tsumiki sighed in exasperation. “You could’ve gone when Nanami-san showed me where the bathrooms were.”

“I didn’t have to go then,” Megumi muttered mullishly.

“One round trip to the toilets, request accepted!” Satoru cheered with enthusiasm. “Let’s go!”

Megumi managed to look even more sour than before, but he had to go too badly to protest, hopping out of his chair and waiting for Satoru to lead the way.

“Be back in a bit,” Satoru said as he guided Megumi out into the hallway.

Satoru waited outside when Megumi went in, finding himself immediately approached by one of the uniformed officers now that he was alone for the moment.

Ino Takuma, a younger man who followed after Kento like a puppy seeking approval. The blond had mentioned in passing that Ino was studying to take the detective exam.

“Gojo-san.” Ino greeted, looking much more subdued than Satoru normally saw him. “Is it true? Were Kawasaki and Tokuda really…? In the–the…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, biting his lip harshly as his shoulders hunched up to his ears.

Satoru nodded, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah… they were good officers,” he remarked.

Ino’s teeth ground together as he clenched his jaw, fists balling up at his sides. “You’re going to get him, right? Ryoumen and his gang have been getting away with too much for too long!” he growled.

“I’m going to catch whoever is responsible,” Satoru stated.

Ino didn’t miss the deliberate phrasing, looking at Satoru in surprise. “No way… people were saying you didn’t think it was Ryoumen, but… Who else could’ve done it?” he frowned.

“Don’t get so worked up, kid. I’m on the case, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Satoru patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not good to stay worked up like this. Go take a walk and get some fresh air,” he suggested. “Or not, I’m not your boss.” He shrugged with a little laugh.

Ino nodded slowly, looking extremely unsatisfied but also having realized that Satoru was ending their conversation. He left without another word, and Satoru let out a sigh.

Satoru was used to Yaga hounding him for updates, but he knew that with how personal and high profile these last murders were, there was going to be more attention and more demands from everyone around him.

Oh well, Satoru knew how to handle whatever got thrown at him. Mainly, how to be slippery when people wanted to talk to him the most.

Megumi finally came out of the bathroom, wiping his hands dry on the handstitched navy handkerchief Tsumiki had made for him (Satoru had a matching lilac one.) The boy stopped, squinting at something behind the Satoru.

Megumi’s next words had Satoru’s blood running cold.

“I saw him.” The boy said, pointing at the wall.

Satoru slowly turned to look at the poster next to him, feeling his stomach drop when he saw it was Toji’s BOLO.

“What?”

Chapter Text

“I saw him.”

“What?” Satoru uttered, pushing his sunglasses down so he could look the boy in the eye. “When? Where?” he demanded. He was kicking himself for not realizing that Toji’s BOLO had been right next to him the entire time and he had been too distracted to notice.

“At the playground when I was at school on Friday.” Megumi answered slowly, brow pinching as he inched away from Satoru.

“Did he say anything to you? What did he do when you saw him?” Satoru was trying not to let any undercurrent of hysteria bleed into his words, but he clearly wasn’t succeeding because Megumi’s expression was warier than ever.

“All he did was wave, put a finger to his lips, then leave. I almost didn’t recognize him because he was wearing a mask, but he’d pulled it down for a second when he did that.” Megumi recounted, looking perturbed by both the memory and Satoru’s reactions.

“So, you do know who he is?” Satoru questioned, searching the boy’s features the moment he mentioned recognizing Toji.

“My dad, right?” Megumi said with a hint of suspicion, as if he thought Satoru was trying to test him. “Just because he wasn’t around much doesn’t mean I don’t remember what he looks like. I was like eight the last time I saw him.”

“And…you do realize that this poster means he’s wanted, right?” Satoru continued, watching Megumi just as carefully as the boy was watching him.

“Yeah?” Megumi’s brow furrowed. “I knew he did shady things, so it’s not really that shocking? What exactly is he wanted for?” he asked.

The can of worms Satoru had been avoiding was finally ready to be opened. He shoved his hands in his pockets, debating on his next words. He remembered the bag of lemon ginger candies he’d bought when he felt them, pulling them out and tossing them at Megumi.

The boy caught the bag, blinking at the candies before looking back up at Satoru with mild annoyance.

“C’mon, let’s get your sister then I’ll explain everything.” Satoru sighed.

Megumi gave Satoru another suspicious look, as if he was half expecting the white-haired man to try to weasel out of this somehow. Satoru gave him a smile, thin at the edges yet still doing his best to appear reassuring. The boy just huffed, tearing open the bag to pick out one of the candies and pop it into his mouth.

While they were walking back to the bullpen, Megumi held the bag out, silently offering one to Satoru while pointedly refusing to look at him. Satoru didn’t particularly care for tart flavors, but the times when Megumi willingly shared things with him were far and few between. So, he took one with a smile and a murmured thanks.

“Hey, Miki, come with us for a little bit.” Satoru said when he and Megumi returned to his desk.

“Sure.” Tsumiki agreed, hopping down from her seat to join them.

“Where are you going?” Kento narrowed his eyes at Satoru.

Satoru raised his hands placatingly. “To the conference room down the hall. I need to fill them in on Toji.” He glanced down at the kids, mouth flattening into a thin line. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“Our dad?” Tsumiki looked at Megumi with wide eyes, who nodded in return.

“You sure you wanna do it alone?” Yuu asked, frowning in concern.

“Yeah,” Satoru affirmed. Short and simple, no extra flourish or embellishment, showing how serious he was about this.

“We’ll be here if you need us.” Yuu relented after a moment of scrutinizing Satoru.

“I will come check on you if you take too long,” Kento warned.

“Stop being such a worrywart,” Satoru stuck his tongue out at the blond. “C’mon, you two. Let’s get this over with,” he said as he motioned for the kids to follow him.

Megumi and Tsumiki obediently trailed after Satoru, letting him lead them to the conference room.

They sat down at the table, with Satoru at the head and Megumi and Tsumiki on either side of him.

“Alright, how much do you two know of what Toji actually did for a living?” Satoru prompted.

“He was a construction worker, right?” Tsumiki tilted her head. “That’s what my mom told me.”

“I think I remember him talking about driving a lot,” Megumi shrugged.

Satoru snorted, waving a hand. “He did drive a lot, and he may have gotten creative with tools and concrete, but he wasn’t a construction worker.”

“What was he then?” Megumi demanded, the first cracks of impatience beginning to show. “What did he do that was bad enough to send him to jail?”

“Dad went to jail?!” Tsumiki gasped.

“Yeah, they have a wanted poster for him saying he’s a fugitive and everything.” Megumi scowled, crossing his arms.

“Is…Is that why he never came home?” Tsumiki asked Satoru in a hesitant tone.

It was hard enough doing this knowing he was going to have to explain how Toji had started the chain of events that ruined his life, but seeing the attempted indifference from Megumi and slow devastation from Tsumiki made Satoru’s chest ache.

Tsumiki had never known her birth father, Toji being the closest she’d ever had to a father figure. To a child, an absent father that sometimes came home was still better than a father they’d never known.

Had Toji ever felt anything for her? Did he want her back because he acknowledged her as his daughter? Or did he consider her his possession? Was he mad because he thought Satoru had taken his kids, or because Satoru had taken things that belonged to him?

Either way, Toji was the one who fucked up. He hadn’t tried hard enough to do better for Megumi and Tsumiki. A real parent wouldn’t have left children to fend for themselves.

“Who’s putting a roof over their heads? Who’s making sure they never go hungry? Who’s putting them through school? Who’s making sure they’ve always got someone looking after them? Who’s caring for them when they’ve been hurt? Who took them in so that they wouldn’t have to fend for themselves in this world?”

Did Megumi and Tsumiki appreciate Satoru for what he did for them? Did they see him as just their guardian, or was Yaga right and he’d replaced Toji in their eyes?

Satoru being their parent felt right. It was settled under his skin and implied with every pump of blood from his heart.

So, why did the same thought make his palms clammy and fill him with the urge to flee to avoid acknowledging it aloud? Why could he do everything but admit it?

Pushing the swirling storm clouds of his thoughts aside, Satoru finally looked back at Tsumiki. He let out a sigh. There was no delicate way of putting this.

“Your dad…was a hitman for hire.” Satoru revealed slowly, observing the kids’ reactions with careful scrutiny.

Megumi’s face had scrunched so much Satoru was worried it was going to get stuck that way, and Tsumiki looked like she was going to be sick.

“He killed people…for money?” Tsumiki whispered in shock.

“Yeah,” Satoru nodded. “Not just murder; kidnapping, assault, intimidation, and smuggling too. But…his specialty was assassinations.”

“Is that how you met him? You investigated one of his…” Megumi trailed off.

“We actually met when I was eight years old.” Satoru revealed, gaze briefly going someplace far away that the kids couldn’t follow. “But I didn’t properly meet him until I was twenty-two,” he continued. He pulled out his phone, opening his photos and scrolling until he found the picture he was looking for. He placed his phone on the table, swiveling it so that Megumi and Tsumiki could see it.

It was of Satoru, Suguru, Kento, and Yuu when they were still in uniforms, three years younger. There was a teenage girl in a school uniform and a young maid standing in the middle of the four officers.

“Everyone looks so different.” Tsumiki commented, eyes sparkling at seeing younger versions of the adults she knew and loved.

“Who are those two?” Megumi pointed at the women in the middle.

“People who deserved better,” Satoru answered quietly. “Back when I was still just a beat cop partnered up with my best friend…”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“Officers, you’ve been drafted for a new assignment.” Yaga began, gruff as ever. He was in uniform, stripes marking his status as a sergeant. “Your number one priority is the safety of Amanai Riko.” He said, tapping the photo of the girl on the corkboard.

“Babysitting?” Satoru wrinkled his nose, service cap dangling from his fingers as he leaned back precariously in his seat.

“Satoru, let him finish.” Suguru frowned, reaching over to make Satoru clack his chair back on the floor.

“As I was saying,” Yaga continued with an already throbbing vein in his forehead, “your duty is to protect her. There have been multiple threats made to her life already. Tengen-sama, the current High Priestess of a religion based off jujutsu, is ready to pass on her position to a new vessel: Amanai Riko. However, there are two groups opposing this decision.”

“Q and Star Religious Group?” Yuu tilted his head, looking at the pictures of both. One appeared to be a group of uniformed fighters and the other a crowd of unassuming people in plain white garb.

“Q is a hate group. They want to see the religion die with Tengen-sama and are aiming to kill Amanai. The Star Religious Group is the opposite. They revere Tengen-sama, but think that Amanai is unfit to take over the role of High Priestess.” Yaga explained. “The official ceremony for Amanai to become High Priestess is in three days; her eighteenth birthday. You all will rotate twelve-hour shifts staying by Amanai’s side until you’ve managed to deliver her to Tengen-sama.”

“Are we really the right fit for this assignment?” Kento’s brow furrowed. “I can understand Gojo-san and Getou-san based on their experience and commendations, but Haibara and I only finished our field training a few months ago.”

“Unfortunately, we’re just simply lacking the manpower to divert more resources to this assignment. There were threats being made to assembly members and a dummy bomb found at the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. The public safety commission wants us to focus on that case.” Yaga grimaced, clearly having his own thoughts on the subject that he refrained from sharing.

“A bomb threat? Suguru and I could be working a cool case with government conspiracies and explosives, but you have us on a boring protection detail?” Satoru complained, making Kento and Suguru twitch at the disrespect the former was blatantly showing to their superior officer. Yuu scooted his chair away slightly, not wanting to get caught in any of the crossfire.

“It was hard enough getting you two pulled for this,” Yaga snapped. “This assignment—Amanai Riko—deserves your full attention and efforts. You operate as if the threats are promises. There is no telling what could happen.”

Satoru slouched, arms crossing as he sulked. “Yeah, yeah… I get it already.”

“Just…don’t mess this up. There’s already enough to worry about.” Yaga sighed, a hand going to massage his temple. “Now, are there any questions?”

Yuu raised a hand. “Are we supposed to be out looking for these groups? Like one pair on tracking duty and the other with Amanai-chan?”

“No, the point of rotating shifts is so that you can get proper rest going back in.” Yaga shook his head. “I can’t stop you if you really want to, but remember every moment you skip resting could be a moment that comes back to bite you when it’s most critical.”

Satoru had been fed this line over and over throughout his adolescence and young adulthood, yet he’d watched Yaga not follow through on his own teachings countless times.

“Who’s first up?” Suguru questioned. Yaga simply stared at him and Satoru, and the black-haired man let out a sigh. “I figured as much.”

“Amanai’s guardian is Kuroi Misato. She’s been looking after her since she was young. Coordinate with her, not around her.” Yaga added, looking pointedly at Satoru.

“Why are you always picking on me?” Satoru grumbled. “This is reverse nepotism.”

“Are there any more questions that don’t involve me writing something in anyone’s disciplinary file?” Yaga asked through gritted teeth. Met with silence, the sergeant exhaled. “Very well, you’re all dismissed.”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“What do you think this Amanai kid’s gonna be like?” Satoru asked Suguru. He was reclined all the way back in his seat as Suguru drove, still finding it to be cramped. He’d complained to Yaga about it only to have the sergeant turn around and blame Satoru for having such absurdly long legs.

Bullying. Satoru was tormented by his boss/dad, partner, and juniors daily. It was no wonder he got a little too excited when it came to chasing down criminals and slapping handcuffs on them.

“I honestly have no idea, Satoru.” Suguru replied, already sounding weary. “And don’t be so rude when we meet her. Whatever her feelings may be, she’s still a kid having to give up everything she knows to go fulfill her duties for the sake of her beliefs.”

Satoru was silent for a few moments, pulling a cherry lollipop out from his pocket and beginning to suck on it.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.” Satoru revealed, making Suguru glance over at him in surprise. “What if she doesn’t want to become a High Priestess? Are we just supposed to drag her kicking and screaming to Tengen-sama? Screw that.”

“Satoru…” Suguru said quietly, realizing where his partner was going with this. “You’re not saying we go against orders, are you?”

Satoru popped the candy out of his mouth, waving it around and momentarily drawing Suguru’s full attention before the latter remembered he was supposed to be watching the road.

“I’m saying we protect her like we’re supposed to, bring her to Tengen-sama, and if Amanai says she doesn’t want to ascend her status or whatever, we let her say her piece to Tengen-sama and then get her out of there. Our assignment ends when we bring her to Tengen-sama, so anything we do afterwards isn’t technically going against orders.”

Suguru considered Satoru’s explanation, a small smile flitting over his lips.

“You really put a lot of thought into this in the short amount of time we’ve been on this assignment, huh?” He remarked, glancing over to see his partner shrug and turn his head, the tips of his ears reddening. “I’m convinced. Let’s do it your way, Satoru. You know I have your back.”

Satoru turned back to Suguru, a grin on his face as he held up his fist. Suguru chuckled, letting go of the wheel for just long enough to bump his own against Satoru’s.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Upon their arrival at the hotel where they were supposed to meet Riko and Misato, Satoru and Suguru were greeted with the sight of two men coming out of the room carrying the aforementioned two over their shoulders.

“Seriously?” Satoru raised a brow. “Did they really expect to make it out of here looking like that?”

The men were dressed in gaudy white uniforms with caps and black face masks, marking their affiliation as members of Q. The clothing already made them conspicuous enough, let alone the way they had the unconscious Riko and Misato unceremoniously slung over their shoulders.

Predictably, the two Q members booked it in opposite directions down the hallway when they saw Satoru and Suguru.

“I’ll go left, you go right.” Satoru decided, heading after the man who had snatched Riko.

“GS725 to dispatch, myself and GS572 are in pursuit of two Q members. They’ve taken the targets hostage, requesting backup.” Suguru called it in, running after Misato’s captor.

Satoru never bothered getting on the radio unless he was by himself, which was rare for him and Suguru. He always left it up to his partner to report to dispatch since Suguru would always harp to Satoru for not having better radio etiquette.

Satoru pulled out his taser, aiming it at the suspect’s back. “If you don’t stop, I’ll use my taser! I don’t think you want that.” He warned, finger curled over the trigger.

The Q member flung open the door to the stairs, darting out of view and Satoru reholstered his weapon, sighing as he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Satoru took the next stairway at the other end of the hallway, skipping down two flights of stairs before running down the hallway back in the direction of the stairway the suspect had taken. Satoru took his baton out, fully extending it and waiting by the door.

When he heard the sound of harried, heavy footsteps approaching, Satoru swung the door open and grinned at the Q member’s startled attempt to skid to a stop. He cracked his baton down against the man’s knee to send him crumpling to the floor and then hit him again on the shoulder to keep him down.

Satoru removed Riko from the other man, setting her to the side whilst leaving a foot firm on the suspect’s chest to keep him in place. Once Riko was placed safely on the steps and out of the way, Satoru pulled his cuffs out.

“How did you manage to cut me off?” The Q member demanded, wincing as Satoru maneuvered him around to secure the handcuffs on his wrists.

“I never walk into a building without knowing the blueprints,” Satoru replied as he straightened back up. “The rest was a hunch.”

“A hunch?” the other man repeated incredulously.

“It’s all about probabilities and patterns; you study enough, your brain just makes the connections faster than you can explain.” Satoru shrugged before a taunting grin spread over his lips. “It’s easier when the criminals are on the slow side like you. So predictable.”

“Why, the nerve of you—” The Q member turned bright red in rage.

Satoru laughed as the suspect ranted at him, bringing his radio close as he keyed up.

“GS572 to dispatch, got one suspect in custody and the girl here. We’re in the east wing stairwell on the fourth floor. Send me another unit and medical.”

“Copy, one in custody. Sending backup and medical.”

Satoru resecured his baton, slipping his receiver back into place when his radio clicked with a new transmission.

“GS725 to GS572, I’m enroute to you. I have my suspect in custody and the guardian with me as well.”

Satoru’s grin widened, and he started humming as he leaned back against the wall and waited.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“You know, it’s weird that she hasn’t woken up yet.” Satoru remarked as he poked at Riko’s cheek. She was drooling a little, and Satoru’s prodding was doing nothing to rouse her.

Satoru and Suguru had reunited, dumped their arrestees off on the backup that had arrived, and were currently waiting for the medics to come check Riko and Misato.

“I don’t understand. How come I was able to wake up first? We were both rendered unconscious with those dreadful-smelling rags at the same time…” Misato fretted, hovering as close as she could to Riko.

“She is still young and she has less body mass, so there’s probably still enough of whatever chemical they used in her system to keep her out.” Suguru explained.

Satoru took Riko into his arms, holding her in a princess carry. “Alright, let’s just go out front so we can meet the medics quicker.” He proposed.

It was at that moment that Riko’s face scrunched as she began to wake up. Big, azure eyes looked into widened cerulean ones. Deep oceans met vast skies as Riko and Satoru stared at each other.

SMACK!

Satoru let out an indignant noise as he dropped Riko, hand going to cradle his bright red cheek as the teen hopped down and went over to Misato. She had her hands thrown up, scowling and looking like a bristling kitten as she attempted to intimidate Satoru and Suguru.

“You wanna kill someone so bad? Start with yourself!” Riko huffed, looking down her nose at the two men, which was impressive considering the height difference between them.

Suguru brought a hand up to his mouth, unsuccessfully stifling his mirth behind his palm as he watched his partner grumble.

“Do we look like those stupid criminals? These are police uniforms, you little—” Satoru began to hiss.

“Young Mistress, these two really are officers. They saved us from the true criminals.” Misato said quickly as she placed a hand on Riko’s shoulder, cutting Satoru off before he could finish.

Riko squinted at Satoru, brow furrowing in disbelief. “With that hair and those sunglasses? They let him work like that? He looks like a cosplayer,” she sniffed.

“Hah?!” Satoru was officially ticked off. He’d never been good with people younger than him, and Riko was clearly going out of her way to push his buttons.

Suguru placed a hand on Satoru’s shoulder much like how Misato had done to Riko. His partner smiled, bangs slipping over his eye as he tilted his head.

“You just went through a scary ordeal. It’s going to be okay now. Satoru and I will be taking you to a safe house.” Suguru assured, his tone kind and warm.

“Tch, him too. Who approved those bangs?” Riko crossed her arms, obviously not swayed.

Suguru’s pleasant mask cracked, and it was Satoru’s turn to hold his partner back. Not because he wanted to. Satoru was completely ready to join Suguru in whatever lesson he’d been about to teach Riko. However, the sound of footsteps and a radio squawking let them know that the medics had finally arrived.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Fifteen minutes later, Riko and Misato had been given clean bills of health from the EMTs and were tucked into the back of Satoru and Suguru’s cruiser as they pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

“Where are we going?” Riko asked.

“None of your business,” Satoru replied petulantly.

“We’re going to a safe house about an hour away.” Suguru answered, briefly making eye contact with Riko through the rear view mirror. “Satoru and I as well as another pair of officers will be swapping shifts every twelve hours for the next three days until it’s time for you to meet with Tengen-sama.”

“What about those Q people?” Misato questioned. “There’s no way for them to follow us, right?”

“Our sergeant will be interrogating them.” Satoru said dismissively, not worried at all. “He won’t need more than ten minutes with each to get the details of their organization and go arrest the rest.”

Riko looked skeptical, but Misato relaxed, taking Satoru’s words at face value.

“Have you heard anything from the Star Religious Group?” Misato asked next.

“Nothing past the letter they sent you,” Suguru shook his head.

“They’re just a bunch of stuffy, extremist old farts. They never liked the idea of Star Plasma Vessels in the first place, but they’ve never actually done anything about it.” Riko scoffed.

“How did that work anyway?” Satoru raised a brow. “What are the qualifications to even be a Star Plasma Vessel?”

“No one knows,” Misato was the one to answer. “Young Mistress’s parents took her to see Tengen-sama on her one-hundredth day ceremony and Tengen-sama marked her as a vessel.”

Satoru frowned, lips thinning. She never had a chance to begin with, he thought. His earlier conversation with Suguru came to mind, and he grimaced. Suguru better be the one to ask her if she really wants to go through with it. He’s better at being all soft and understanding.

Misato and Riko murmured between themselves, voices hushed and quiet. They fell silent shortly after, the only sounds in the car coming from the lowered volumes of Satoru and Suguru’s radios and the soft pop from the stereo.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable lull, but it was broken when Riko piped up shortly after.

“I need to go. Pull over,” Riko demanded. “…please,” she tacked on after a moment.

“Just hold it,” Satoru tsked.

“You said it was an hour away!” Riko complained. “It’ll just be five minutes, come on.”

Suguru glanced over at Satoru, and the two had a silent exchange, well aware that Misato and Riko were attempting to decipher their looks to no avail.

A couple of brow raises, lip quirks, and eye rolls later, Suguru spoke. “Alright, we’ll stop at the next exit.”

“Thank you.” Misato smiled, staring at Riko until the teen huffed and crossed her arms.

“Thank you,” she echoed.

Well, Satoru thought, she’s trying.

Satoru recalled his early days with Yaga, knowing he’d been worse with him than Riko was with them. Still, there was plenty of similarity between Riko and his younger self despite their differing circumstances. He let out another sigh, propping his cheek against his fist and staring out the window.

Suguru watched him, a small smile on his lips before he looked back at the road and signaled to take the next exit.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“I’ll go with Amanai, you gonna stay with the car or head inside too?” Satoru questioned Suguru once they’d pulled up to the first conbini they’d found.

“Is it okay if we go into the store? I have a couple of things I would like to grab if it’s no trouble.” Misato requested.

“That’s fine,” Suguru nodded. “Meet back at the car in ten minutes?”

Satoru flashed him a thumbs up, and they all entered the store. Satoru and Riko went in the direction of the bathrooms, and Suguru and Misato went down one of the aisles.

Thankfully, Riko didn’t take too long, having given Satoru enough time to text Suguru to buy him some more candy before she came back out.

When they exited the store, Satoru was greeted by the sight of a man leaning against the driver’s side door of their cruiser. He was tall and built, wearing a tight tee and a paper bag over his head. There was an x and an o cut out of the bag where his eyes were and a line of stitches just below them.

What a creep, Satoru thought as he put his hand atop his baton. “Amanai, go back inside.” He ordered.

“I wouldn’t recommend that.”

Satoru glanced over, seeing two more men emerge from the sides of the building. They were dressed exactly the same as the one by the car.

“There’s another one inside dealing with your partner,” the man on their left advised. “And we want to be the ones who get her bounty, so do us a favor and just stay put, yeah?”

Satoru raised a brow at the words, placing his other hand on his belt in a way that appeared casual. He pushed down on the silent alert button of his radio, knowing that it would transmit his coordinates and automatically turn his radio on for dispatch to listen in.

“There’s a bounty out on her?” Satoru remarked. “How much?”

“Thirty million,” the man on the right side replied. “So, you can see why we’re not bothering with subtleties.”

Satoru whistled. “Yeah, no. I get it,” he shook his head. “I suppose that means there’s no chance of doing this the easy way and suggesting you all go home before you do something you’ll regret.”

“Nice try, but no.” The one by the car snorted, pushing off it and approaching Satoru and Riko while cracking his knuckles.

“Stay behind me,” Satoru ordered Riko. “No matter what, do not move from these doors. Got it?”

“I understand.” Riko nodded, fully comprehending the seriousness of the situation.

The two men on either side rushed them at once, and Satoru drew and deployed his taser on the one that came at them from the right. He ducked under the swing from the suspect who’d approached from the left, releasing his taser prongs once the first man had fallen into a heap. Satoru put the weapon back into its holster, swapping it out for his baton.

“Fast, huh?” The second suspect grunted, shooting out a leg to kick at Satoru.

If Satoru tried to dodge it, the kick would hit Riko, so he raised his baton and struck the man’s knee instead. He aimed at the other’s unprotected side, earning a startled wheeze from him before he brought the baton down one last time on the suspect’s shoulder.

That left the final man, who squared off his shoulders and stared Satoru down from under his paper bag.

“You still gonna go for it?” Satoru raised a brow.

“My brothers would never let me live it down if I didn’t.” The other shrugged.

Satoru watched with narrowed eyes as the man rushed at him. He waited until the suspect was close enough before he pulled out his taser, ensuring that the other wouldn’t have enough time to dodge the prongs.

Once the final suspect had been subdued, Satoru let out a breath and resecured his weapon. “GS572 to dispatch, I have three suspects down. GS725 is dealing with at least one more inside the store. Requesting ETA on that backup.” He spoke into his radio, switching off his emergency button.

“Copy, GS572. Closest units are a minute out.”

Satoru sighed in relief, turning back to Riko. “You good?” he asked.

Riko was about to answer when her phone pinged. Satoru watched as her features contorted in shock, looking horrified as she stared at her phone.

“This is horrible!” She choked, turning her phone so Satoru could see the screen.

It was Misato, tied up and unconscious.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

“What are we going to do?” Riko demanded, unable to help herself from looking down at Misato’s picture every few moments. She was utterly distraught.

Satoru and Suguru had pulled the teen aside, huddled by the cruiser as they let backup units process the scene.

“This is all my fault.” Suguru bit his lip, fists clenching by his side. “I assumed that there was only one suspect inside the store and thought Kuroi-san was simply trying to stay out of the way…”

“No, we just didn’t realize that the enemies would value Kuroi-san this much.” Satoru shook his head. He wouldn’t admit it, but when he’d learned of Misato’s abduction, his first thought hadn’t been about her… Satoru’s first concern was what had happened to Suguru since the suspects would’ve needed to get through him to get to her. He hadn’t relaxed until he’d heard Suguru’s voice on the radio only moments after Riko had received the message.

“I don’t care about why or how!” Riko burst in frustration as she scowled. “What are we going to do to get her back?”

“Well, they’re most likely intending to do an exchange. Kuroi-san for you. They’ll contact us on your phone again with the location details,” Satoru answered.

“I’m going to the exchange,” Riko decided with finality. “I still can’t trust either of you yet!”

Satoru didn’t miss Suguru’s wince at that, the latter clearly still blaming himself for Misato’s kidnapping.

“Huh?!” Satoru snapped, irked on Suguru’s behalf. “You’re still on that—”

“Even if you do find her, what if you can’t do it before the ceremony?” Riko lowered her head, bangs shadowing her eyes. “I have to be able to say goodbye to her while I’m still Riko!” She admitted with a wet voice, fists crumpling the material of her skirt as she held back tears.

Satoru and Suguru both went quiet. Satoru had read her file, he knew that Riko’s parents had died in a car accident when she was four and Misato had watched after her ever since. Misato wasn’t just her guardian; she was all the family Riko had left.

Satoru looked down, running through the possibilities in his head before measuring them against the weight of Riko’s fragile desperation and love for her guardian.

“They’re going to reach out to us soon enough,” Satoru finally began in an even tone. “If they’re smarter than we expected, or if bringing you with us only hurts Kuroi-san’s chance of survival… then we leave you with Haibara and Nanami and handle it ourselves.”

Riko looked at him in surprise before she processed what Satoru was offering. She sniffled, reaching up to dry her tears.

“Alright, I understand.” Riko squared her shoulders and stared up at Satoru with an unflinching gaze.

“You better not get scared halfway through,” Satoru threatened. “We’ll just ignore you if you do.” He scoffed, making Riko narrow her eyes at him.

Behind them, Suguru let out a weary sigh.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Twenty-four hours later, Satoru and Riko were splashing around in the ocean as Suguru and Misato watched them play from the shoreline.

It hadn’t been easy, but once they’d received the location from the kidnappers, Satoru and Suguru had managed to hop on a plane to Okinawa with Riko. Luckily, Ijichi’s thorough background checks of everyone on the manifest came through and helped them make their case to Yaga.

Truthfully, it had been much more difficult to get the sergeant to approve their plan than actually finding and arresting the suspects who had held Misato hostage.

Satoru had managed to convince Yaga to let them stay once they’d tracked down the website where Riko’s bounty had been posted. His reasoning being that there would be less bounty hunters in Okinawa compared to Tokyo, and Yaga had been stretched thin enough with tracking down the rest of the Q members that he’d given in rather than argue with Satoru.

Seeing Riko run through the water—giggling as waves splashed at her legs and soaking in the sun and salty sea air—Satoru knew that he’d made the right decision.

He scooped up a sea cucumber, bringing it over to show to Riko. Both of them cackled so hard their ribs hurt when it squeezed out its innards, and Satoru picked up another one, starting to chase Riko around with it.

“Satoru, don’t you think we should be getting back to the room now?” Suguru called.

Satoru didn’t miss the way Riko pouted, silently sulking at the thought of cutting their fun short. He turned back to his partner, making sure to stare into his eyes and not at the other’s bare chest. Suguru kept getting on Satoru for being obvious about his ogling in public, so he was trying, but Suguru was not making it easy for him right now. Seeing the other in a fully unbuttoned floral shirt and shorts was both a blessing and a curse.

“Suguru, why don’t we stay out here a little longer?” Satoru proposed as he approached his partner.

Misato went over to Riko, the older plucking a sea star off the younger’s sunhat and holding it out for her to look at as they both admired it.

“But…” Suguru began in a low tone, looking worried.

Satoru cut him off swiftly. “The weather’s so nice right now. And besides…there are less bounty hunters here than in Tokyo,” he reminded.

“Let’s keep things a little more serious here, Satoru.” Suguru sighed.

“Haibara and Nanami’s flight will be landing soon, so we’ll finally be able to catch a break.” Satoru pointed out. Unfortunately, their juniors had missed yesterday’s last plane, which was why they were arriving so late.

Suguru stepped closer to Satoru, chest brushing against Satoru’s arm as he leaned in to speak quietly into his ear.

“Satoru, you’ve refused to rest for a single moment since yesterday.” Suguru murmured, breath fanning against Satoru’s damp cheek. “And I know you’re not planning to sleep tonight either. Are you sure you don’t want to catch a flight back to Tokyo and go to the safe house?”

Satoru was still, well aware of how fast his heart was beating and hoping nothing was showing on his face. He let out a measured breath, closing his eyes as he gently smacked his fist against Suguru’s chest.

“It’s not a problem. I had more trouble with my Digimon games.” He scoffed, keeping his gaze focused on the buildings in the distance. “Besides… you’re here, too.” He stated before he began to walk away.

Suguru’s eyes widened before he let out a quiet little huff, an exasperated smile on his lips as he followed after his partner.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

On the following day, Satoru and Suguru had reached the final stretch of their assignment.

Kento and Yuu had arrived yesterday without issue, and the other pair was able to swiftly deal with the single bounty hunter that tried to come after them during the entirety of their stay in Okinawa.

To Suguru’s disapproval, Satoru did in fact stay up all night trying to backhack the website where Riko’s bounty had been posted. All he received for his efforts was an error screen in Korean and a second night without rest.

Thankfully, the plane ride back to Tokyo had been as equally without incident as the first. It helped considering the fact that the bounty had expired while they were in the air.

The temple where they were to deliver Riko was located at the edge of the jurisdiction for their precinct. It was traditional, laid out in a one story compound with stone gardens and koi ponds. The truly unique aspect of it was that there were spiraling pathways and secret rooms that spanned an entire kilometer underground.

They went inside the building that held the entrance to the tunnels, finding relief from the hot sun in the cool shade.

“Good work, everyone.” Suguru praised. He was always the first to give kind words, encouragement as natural as breathing for him.

Misato handed Riko a handkerchief, and the teen patted at the sweat sliding down her cheek.

“What a relief,” Riko sighed. “No more bounty hunters.”

“It truly is,” Misato agreed with a warm smile.

Despite the fact that things were going smoothly, Satoru couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Ever since they started the mission, he’d had a trepidation that they were being watched. At first, he’d chalked it up to the bounty hunters. But the longer it continued, the more it reminded Satoru of memories from his childhood that he’d buried and blocked out.

The uneasiness had only grown, and his paranoia was the real reason he hadn’t been able to rest the previous night. His online sleuthing was just an excuse to be doing something when he had no ability to fall asleep in the first place.

“Satoru?”

He blinked, looking over at Suguru who was staring at him softly. “Hm?”

“You worked really hard this time.” Suguru murmured, eyes crinkled as he smiled at him.

Satoru glanced away, knowing that if he looked any longer, he wouldn’t be able to play off just how much Suguru’s acknowledgement meant to him. His true reward for work well done was when he received Suguru’s praise for it. Suguru always watched him; he never failed to see the sides of Satoru that no one else did.

“I’m never babysitting another brat again,” was what Satoru grumbled instead.

Riko had barely finished huffing incredulously before a loud bang echoed through the building.

Burning pain erupted in Satoru’s arm, and he clutched at it protectively as blood spilled from the wound.

“Satoru!”

Suguru started to run toward him, expression panicked. Seeing his normally calm partner so thrown off balance made it all too clear to Satoru that he needed to keep a level head for all of their sakes.

The probability of them running into an ambush was far less likely going further down as opposed to trying to head outside. They didn’t know where the shooter’s current position was, and unless he or Suguru stayed behind to slow down their pursuer, Riko and Misato had no chance.

The choice of who should go and who should stay was obvious.

“Suguru, I’m fine.” Satoru assured, thrusting an arm out to halt his partner before he could get closer. “It was just a graze. Amanai is the priority. You and Kuroi-san take her to Tengen-sama.”

Suguru’s dark eyes traveled from Satoru’s bloody palm (which probably hadn’t been the best thing to thrust in Suguru’s face while trying to convince him he was okay) to meet Satoru’s blue ones.

“Satoru…” Suguru breathed, glancing over at Misato, who had curled around Riko in order to shield the teen’s body with her own. He knew what he had to do. “Be careful.” Suguru ordered roughly, turning to Riko and Misato. “Let’s go!” he called.

Satoru reached down for his radio as the three disappeared down the stairs to the tunnels, switching the emergency button on.

A chuckle sounded, dark and low. The tall ceiling and wide room only made the sound reverberate, but Satoru could tell it had come from behind him. He whirled around, taking his gun out as he did.

There was no one there.

In the two years that Satoru had been an officer, he had only drawn his firearm once. Even then, it was because the suspect had been trying to go down in a blaze of bullets and Satoru had managed to shoot the suspect in the shoulder to make him drop his weapon.

Satoru handled every other incident where he needed to justify use of force with either his taser or his baton. His main reason being that he didn’t like doing the extra paperwork that came from discharging his gun. Another reason was ego. Coming up with creative ways to take down criminals using solely nonlethal means was just another way of proving his skill and intelligence.

The final reason was that he knew the seriousness of taking a life. There was no coming back once he’d done it. He already had blood on his hands; he didn’t want to add any more if he could help it.

Yet, his first instinct in this situation had been to draw his gun, and it wasn’t because he had been shot at first.

The unease from earlier had fully morphed into dread.

“Do you really think that’s going to work?”

Satoru tensed, feeling the press of a blade at the small of his back, settled so that it would be able to slide right between vertebrae with ease.

“As I’m sure your partner’s also discovered, there’s no way to call or radio for help. I hid a jammer in here. You’re on your own, kid.”

“You…” Satoru took a careful breath, not moving an inch, “you’re the first person to sneak up on me like that.”

There was a snort from the man behind him. Satoru didn’t have to be looking to gauge that the other was twice his size.

“Funny you say that.”

Satoru swallowed thickly, skin prickling. The nauseating feeling that he’d experienced this before returned with full force.

“Have we already met?” he asked, stalling for time. He needed to think of a plan. Nothing viable was coming to mind right now, and Satoru refused to admit that it was panic. He was just shaken up. The problem was that there were too many unknown variables about this situation.

“Don’t worry, I’m bad at remembering guys’ names, too.”

The blade moved from his back, and while Satoru’s instincts screamed at him to put distance between himself and the other man, he turned around instead and aimed his gun where he’d roughly approximated the other’s chest to be.

The gun was knocked from his hand just as he pulled the trigger, the bullet ricocheting off one of the pillars and into the ceiling.

Satoru was sent toppling to the ground with a pained grunt as he was struck in the chest. He coughed as he recovered from the hit, feeling a bruise already forming over his diaphragm. He looked up as a shadow loomed over him, eyes bare since his sunglasses had flown off and skittered a few feet away where they laid cracked and broken.

The other man was a tall, hulking figure, and clearly faster than all his muscles implied. He had black hair and deep green eyes, wide mouth curled in a smirk that made the scar at the corner of it contort chillingly. There was a jitte-shaped dagger in his hand, one that Satoru vaguely recognized but couldn’t place.

The deja vu that crashed over Satoru at the sight of the man paralyzed his body with the force of it.

This…This was not the first time Satoru had been in this position.

Suddenly, it was fourteen years ago and Satoru was sprawled on the floor in a puddle of his parents’ blood. Satoru was eight years old and terrified that he was going to die just like his parents at the hand of the same man lurking over him.

And Satoru knew it was him because he recognized those eyes well before he registered the same scarred grin from all those years ago.

“So, you didn’t forget after all.” The man drawled, lowering himself so that he was squatting in front of Satoru. “Then, you know what that means, right?”

“You think I’d be able to forget the man who killed my parents?” Satoru raised a brow, forcing his voice to stay light despite the way his heart was hammering in his chest. “Of course I remember what you told me that night.” His lips quirked, holding the other’s gaze. Neither blinked as cerulean met viridian. “You gonna finally tell me your name before you do it?”

“I’ve got a couple,” the other shrugged.

Satoru scowled. “The one I asked you for when I was eight-years-old, jerk.”

“Everything’s got a price, pretty boy.” The man tsked, propping his cheek against his fist. “Though, I guess I owe you this. Killing your folks really launched my hitman career.”

“If there was an actual list of things you owed me, that would be the bare minimum.” Satoru narrowed his eyes at him.

“Zen’in Toji,” the other revealed. “That was then, though. Go by Fushiguro now,” he added. “Took my wife’s name.”

Zen’in. A prominent family that ran in the same circles as the Gojo’s. Whereas Satoru’s family money had come from generations of jewelers, the Zen’in clan descended from samurai and were mostly politicians and bankers now.

“Fushiguro Toji.” Satoru repeated, testing the name. He wondered if the piece of himself that had never left the Gojo manor heard it, finally receiving a name to the face after all this time. “I’d say nice to meet you, but I was taught not to lie.” He laughed.

“Tell me,” Toji tilted his head, bangs brushing over his eyes, “you become a cop because of what I did to mommy and daddy?”

Satoru bared his teeth in a humorless smile that was more akin to a grimace. “What do you think?”

“I think you would’ve been better off keeping your head down, and now your luck’s run out.” Toji’s gaze lidded, the shadows casting over his expression making him look demonic.

It was a look that was going to feed into nightmares that hadn’t haunted Satoru in years, ones he was sure were only going to revamp after today if he managed to survive this encounter.

“Don’t sound so sure about that, old man.” Satoru huffed, fingers twitching as he slowly inched toward his utility belt.

Toji’s smirk only widened, looking amused. “Usually I don’t care one way or another, but I’m looking forward to this one.”

Satoru barely had enough time to get his baton out when Toji slashed at him. He wasn’t quick enough to keep the tip of the blade from jabbing into his forehead, but he managed to knock the dagger away before Toji could carve open the rest of his face. Satoru winced as blood spattered and streamed from the wound down into his eye, leaving him half-blind.

He had a fraction of a second to decide if he should risk going for his gun or stick with his taser. It was a decision that he normally wouldn’t have any difficulty with, but was grappling with in full alarm now.

The same instincts that had always come through to save him in the past were in overdrive. There was no way to fix this. No amount of calm breaths would remedy Satoru’s panic. There was no clear thinking to be done here.

Satoru was going to end up like his parents. Carved up and left like trash for Suguru to find.

Suguru…

Toji was going to go after Suguru and Riko and Misato if Satoru failed here.

Satoru turned and scrambled for his gun, fingers barely touching the handle before he was being yanked back by his collar. Toji threw him up against a pillar, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Satoru was slender, but he wasn’t that skinny, yet Toji’s hand was large and strong enough to completely wrap around Satoru’s neck and keep him pinned with one hand alone.

“Remember when I said I had other names I go by?” Toji suddenly prompted, holding his dagger up into Satoru’s line of sight. “Recognize this?”

Satoru was busy clawing at Toji’s wrist, gasping for breath as the latter’s hand kept gradually tightening around his throat.

“N–No.” He managed to wheeze, a frustrated sound blocked off in his chest as the blood on his hands only hindered his attempts at loosening Toji’s grip.

“The Inverted Spear of Heaven,” Toji answered graciously. “I’m sure you can put together the rest.”

Satoru’s vision was already starting to fade at the edges, mind swimming with half-formed thoughts and swirls of adrenaline. He desperately tried to remember where he’d heard the name of the dagger before.

A jitte-shaped blade—the Inverted Spear of Heaven—wielded by a hired assassin…

Satoru’s eyes widened as he finally realized who Toji was. Toji relaxed his hold by a fraction at Satoru’s expression, watching him carefully as he sputtered for air.

“G–God… K–Killer…” Satoru choked out, and Toji let out a sound that was as approving as it was condescending.

“Took you long enough,” the older man chuckled. “You know, this dagger was a gift from my client for the hit on your folks. All the rich bastards I’ve killed with this… your mom and dad were the only ones who didn’t get to experience its blade.”

“F–Fuck y–you.” Satoru snarled weakly, an aborted gasp leaving him when Toji’s grip retightened.

“Consider this me finally checking a long overdue box.” Toji said, clicking his tongue. “Sucks for you, kid, but it was personal this time.”

Toji raised the dagger, thrusting it into Satoru’s shoulder. He dragged it through the latter’s flesh with a horrible ripping sound, and Satoru could only watch helplessly when blood spewed from the wound as Toji cut him all the way down to the opposite hip.

Blinding pain came next. It was the kind that no amount of academy training, spars with Suguru, or tussles with other criminals could have prepared Satoru for.

For the second time, Toji had waltzed into Satoru’s life and torn apart his peace and safety.

Toji released him, letting Satoru collapse onto the ground. The more his lungs pushed against his ribcage to suck in the air he desperately needed, the more his blood pulsed and spilled out of him. He was trembling as it soaked into his uniform and pooled under him.

Satoru’s vision was blurring, fading to black, and he could barely hear anything over the pounding of his heart.

Something cold and slimy was dropped on him, and he didn’t even have the capacity to flinch as he felt it move, crawling up the line of his bruised throat.

Toji shifted, getting back to his feet as he looked down at Satoru, watching as blue eyes grew dimmer and dimmer.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll be sending your partner to join you soon enough. You’ll get to go out as a set just like mom and dad.”

Satoru lost consciousness with a sob that never made it out of his bleeding chest.

Suguru…

Suguru!

Satoru opened his eyes, unseeing and unfocused as he twitched back to a half-conscious state. He was still bleeding sluggishly, but the pain was far away.

He dragged himself to his hands and knees, slipping in his own blood as he slowly crawled over to where his gun was. He picked it up, struggling to get to his feet.

He didn’t really process what he was doing as he staggered through the building and down the steps into the tunnels. All he could think of was Suguru.

Suguru was in danger, and Satoru had to save him.

He left a bloody trail behind him as he went, moving on autopilot. He barely registered Misato’s body on the ground. The bullet wound punched through her heart told Satoru there was nothing to be done for her.

Distantly, he heard gunshots. Satoru followed the sound, entering a large room that was roughly the size of a gym. There was a stairway that went further down and led to the doorway of Tengen’s chambers.

Riko’s body lay only a few feet away from the stairs, shot cleanly through the head and laying in a puddle of her own blood the same way Satoru had been only minutes ago.

Satoru didn’t even have the capacity to mourn her just yet. He still hadn’t found Suguru.

Even death would be forced to wait, because Suguru’s safety was worth every last breath in his body.

Satoru stumbled forward to the top of the steps and looked down, finding Toji and Suguru almost immediately. They were in the middle of the walkway leading to Tengen’s chambers, with Suguru crumpled limply on the ground as Toji stood over him, the assassin’s body blocking the full view of his partner.

Satoru had already drawn his gun up when he saw Toji raise his own. Satoru only had one eye not hindered by blood streaming over it, but he wasn’t one of the best marksmen to graduate from the academy for nothing.

Satoru took a breath, aimed at Toji, and fired three times. Once at Toji’s hand, the second to his elbow, and the last one to his shoulder. Nonlethal wounds meant to disarm only, because Satoru couldn’t risk any kill shots passing through Toji and hitting Suguru.

The Inverted Spear of Heaven clattered to the ground, and Toji turned around, staring up at Satoru as if he was looking at a ghost.

It was a fitting comparison, since that’s what Satoru was at this point: a spirit that had yet to pass on until he took care of this final bit of unfinished business.

Toji’s shock was quick to pass, and he looked even more murderous than before, clutching at his wounded arm. He began to stalk toward the stairway as Satoru swayed in place, the adrenaline leaving him as his injuries caught up to him again.

Toji collapsed to the ground before he could make it to the steps, revealing that Suguru had managed to deploy his taser.

“Sugu…ru…” Satoru managed to whisper, relief flooding through him.

There were hurried footsteps from behind him, people approaching from the tunnels.

“Gojo-senpai!”

“Gojo-san!”

Satoru felt two sets of arms support him as he finally lost the strength to stand, unable to look at who had caught him because he couldn’t tear his fading gaze away from his partner.

Satoru returned to unconsciousness with the image of Suguru limping toward Toji burned behind his lids.

Chapter Text

Satoru woke with a vague itchiness in his torso. Consciousness was hazy returning to him, registering a pricking sensation in his arm and the uncomfortable feeling of tubes lodged up his nose. There was something warm in his hand, curled around his palm and twined between his fingers.

Noise came next, the sound of beeping monitors and a TV on low volume reaching his ears. There was an awful taste in his mouth, which was terribly dry and fuzzy as if it was stuffed full of cotton.

Smell was harder considering there was something in his nose, but he could swear he scented vetiver and green tea.

He finally realized what the weight in his hand was, forcing his eyes to peel open.

Vision was the last sense to return to him, the blobs of white above him steadily shaping into the tiles of a hospital ceiling. He turned his head, blinking stickily as he looked over to the side of the bed.

Suguru was resting next to him, their cots pushed together so he could lay by him. Their hands were settled between their faces, Suguru’s wrapped firmly around Satoru’s as he clutched at him like a lifeline.

There was a furrow in his brow, eyes scrunched tightly shut and lips parted around soft mumbles. Even though he was asleep, peace was the furthest thing from Suguru’s expression.

Satoru wanted to reach up and smooth out the wrinkles, caress his cheek and drive away whatever demons Suguru was battling in his head. But he couldn’t bring himself to untangle their hands, not with how tightly Suguru was holding him.

He settled for gently stroking the back of Suguru’s hand with his thumb, content to just watch him. Suguru was dressed in a hospital gown just like Satoru was, matching gauze dressing peeking out from the loose collar.

Satoru knew he could wake Suguru up, but he didn’t want to deprive him of his rest, even if it did appear somewhat fitful.

However, Suguru being Suguru, liked to be contrary to Satoru’s wishes at the most inconvenient times.

Satoru watched as Suguru’s lashes fluttered, dark eyes dim at first but regaining their spark when he realized that Satoru was awake.

“Satoru?” Suguru whispered, looking so hopeful that Satoru felt his chest tighten.

“H–Hey.” Satoru rasped, wincing at how scratchy his voice came out. It almost hurt to speak.

Suguru rushed to sit up, flinching when he moved too quickly, but he reached over to the bedside table to hit the call button and pick up a cup of water. He slid gentle fingers into Satoru’s hair, cradling the back of his head so he could lift him up just enough to place the straw to his lips.

Satoru drank the water, slowly at first but then greedily as the liquid soothed his parched throat. Suguru shushed him, pulling the cup away.

“You’ll get nauseous if you drink too quickly,” Suguru said softly as he placed the cup back down. “How are you feeling?” he questioned.

“Been better.” Satoru admitted wryly, voice less rough than before.

Before Suguru could say anything else, a nurse entered the room, eyes widening when she saw Satoru was awake.

The next few minutes consisted of the nurse checking him over and taking his vitals, scribbling furiously in her clipboard. Satoru was compliant with everything asked of him except for letting go of Suguru’s hand.

Shoko walked in next, an invisible weight lifting off her shoulders when she saw Satoru. The nurse slipped past Shoko as the latter came over to Satoru and Suguru.

“Glad to see you’re up.” Shoko remarked as she pulled up a seat next to them. “Don’t ever put us through that again, asshole.” She finished, smacking Satoru’s thigh.

“Your bedside manner needs some work, Shoko-sensei.” Satoru huffed, cracking a smile at the brunette and receiving a small one in return. Her dark circles were worse than ever, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate him pointing it out even if it was out of concern. “Wanna fill me in on what I missed?” he prompted, looking between Suguru and Shoko.

“It’s a goddamn miracle that you’re both alive,” Shoko said bluntly. “Suguru got slashed, too, but yours were deeper. The blood loss alone almost killed you,” her lips thinned. “You died on the operating table, Satoru. It was sheer luck that we managed to revive you.”

“Oh…” Satoru swallowed, looking down at his torso. “I’m guessing I’m on a shit ton of morphine then because all I feel is just itchy.”

“That’s an understatement,” Shoko tsked.

“He cut you up, too, huh?” Satoru glanced over at Suguru, resting their joined hands against the latter’s chest. “Sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” He murmured, unable to look his partner in the eye. “Guess I should’ve listened when you got on to me for being late all the time.”

Suguru ripped his hand from Satoru’s, startling him when he took his face firmly in between his palms. Suguru’s expression was thunderous, eyes narrowed into slits and mouth twisting.

“You fucking idiot,” he snarled.

Satoru stared at him, wide-eyed and completely out of his element because this was the first time he’d ever seen Suguru get genuinely angry at him.

“S–Suguru—” Satoru stammered, wanting to calm his partner down because he had clearly just stepped in it somehow.

“No, shut up and listen.” Suguru snapped, and Satoru’s mouth shut with an audible clack as he nodded. Shoko let out a low whistle at the scene. “He told me he killed you, Satoru. Do you have any idea how I felt hearing that? We’re partners and I just left you.”

Satoru wanted to argue that he’d told Suguru to, that they’d both had a mutual understanding it was the best course of action at the time, but Suguru’s glare kept his lips pressed tightly together.

“I’m alive right now thanks to you.” Suguru continued, the ire finally leaving him as the tense lines of his body slumped and he brushed a trembling finger against Satoru’s cheek. “So, don’t sit there and blame yourself for a damn thing. You saved me, Satoru. You saved me, because you fucking survived.” He whispered, having to look down to maintain the slivers of his composure when his voice broke.

Satoru reached a hand up, placing it atop Suguru’s as he leaned into the warmth of the other’s palm.

“Can I talk now?” Satoru checked in a quiet voice.

Suguru let out a wet laugh, peering at Satoru from under damp lashes. “Yeah,” he allowed.

“All of that, right back at you.” Satoru huffed, making Suguru blink in surprise. “Yeah, I know you, Suguru. How long have you been sitting there blaming yourself?” He raised a brow, and Suguru averted his gaze. “Thought so,” Satoru clicked his tongue. “Stupid, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you either.” He revealed, making Suguru’s dark eyes settle back on him with his full attention. “I don’t even remember much after he left me upstairs. All I do know is that you were the only thing on my mind. He told me he was going to kill you too and I…I knew that I couldn’t die before making sure you were safe.”

Suguru bit his lip, face twisted up with too many emotions for Satoru to even begin to name.

“You’re not supposed to die at all, idiot.” Suguru grumbled, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

“Suguru…” Satoru breathed, heart breaking when a warm tear dripped from Suguru’s lashes onto his cheek.

“Satoru…” Suguru sighed, staring into Satoru’s eyes as he inched just a little closer…

Shoko clapped her hands, reminding the two of her presence. “Well, that just made me want to down not one but two bottles of shochu.” She commented dryly. Suguru drew off of Satoru, settling into a cross legged sitting position next to him. He coughed into his hand to hide his blush while Satoru just pouted at his moment with Suguru being ruined. “God, everything about this makes me crave a cigarette.” Shoko muttered.

Satoru reached over to pinch her hand, making the brunette curse at the sudden pain.

“You promised Utahime you were gonna quit,” Satoru said disapprovingly. It was one of the few things he’d agreed with Utahime on. The irony of Shoko drinking and smoking as much as she did despite being a doctor was never lost on him, but he’d long since stopped finding it funny.

“I did,” Shoko grumbled. “I said I just wanted one. I’m not gonna actually do it.”

Satoru and Suguru exchanged looks, silently agreeing it would be the latter’s job to raid her office later to make sure she didn’t have any packs stashed away.

The door opened again, Kento and Yuu walking through this time.

“Gojo-senpai, you’re awake!” Yuu cried out, eyes immediately growing shiny as he rushed over to the bedside. “How do you feel?” he demanded. “You had us all so worried!”

“Pretty good considering I got slashed up like no one’s business,” Satoru flashed him a peace sign.

Suguru pinched Satoru’s nose, earning a yelp from the latter. “Don’t joke about that,” he snapped.

“But, Suguru, I deal with trauma through humor, remember?” Satoru whined nasally.

“You must be fine if you’re already back to your antics,” Kento huffed as he came over too.

Suguru let go of Satoru, sighing as he sat back. “You’d never know he was unconscious for the last five days with all the energy he has now,” he muttered.

“Five days?” Satoru blinked. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but I guess that’s not so bad.”

“Try being the ones waiting for you to wake up, idiot.” Shoko tsked, taking her revenge for earlier by pinching Satoru’s arm.

“Wasn’t I the most injured? Why do you all keep picking on me?” Satoru complained, jutting out his lip as he glared at everyone.

“You’re not helping yourself, Gojo-san.” Kento rubbed weary fingers against his temple.

“Suguru, help me sit up. I’m tired of laying down.” Satoru demanded, making grabby hands at the other. Suguru rolled his eyes but complied, his exasperated expression betrayed by how careful his movements were as he lifted Satoru and sat him comfortably with a pillow behind his back.

“You should be thanking Nanami and Haibara. If they hadn’t shown up when they did, you two would’ve bled out underground and Fushiguro wouldn’t be in custody right now.” Shoko stated, giving Satoru a look reminiscent of a parent urging their child to remember their manners. A somewhat strange experience considering how hands-off Shoko tended to be, but it only showed Satoru how much the entire ordeal had shaken her up.

Satoru decided to deal with it later. If he thought about how close he’d been to dying let alone anything directly involving Toji, he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep it together.

“I think I remember hearing your voices,” Satoru looked at Kento and Yuu. “So, it wasn’t my imagination, huh?”

“You were the one who told us to meet you at the temple to go out after the mission,” Kento reminded. “Quite pushily, but I suppose it ended up being a good thing we showed up…”

“We came in and found…” Yuu swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, we just followed your trail, Gojo-senpai. By the time we got there, Getou-senpai had just managed to cuff Fushiguro.”

Satoru took a moment to study his juniors. Kento’s eyes stayed steady on him and Suguru, cataloging every one of their movements. Yuu kept glancing at their bandages then back up at their faces, brow furrowed as he fiddled with his hands. The concern in their body language was respectively subtle and loud.

Admittedly, Satoru was surprised by it. He’d been growing attached to them, but he hadn’t expected the same in return considering how disgruntled Kento got in his and Suguru’s presence. Yuu was a different story; the man was a golden retriever personified and he liked everyone he met.

“Well, Shoko’s right.” Satoru began.

“I’m always right,” the woman in question clicked her tongue.

“Thanks for saving our butts, you two.” Satoru grinned, patting Yuu on the arm since he was the closest. “Suguru will treat you to dinner to show our gratitude.”

“I was planning on doing that anyway, but the way you’re pushing it off on me pisses me off.” Suguru scowled. “You’re paying for yourself, Satoru. You literally have more money than the four of us.”

“But food tastes better when you pay for it, Suguru.” Satoru batted his lashes at his partner.

Before Suguru could let loose on Satoru, the door opened and Yaga was the one to step inside this time.

Yaga’s sunglasses slipped down his nose as he adopted a surprised look. Relief came second, shoulders slumping as he let out a deep exhale.

“Satoru,” he greeted.

“Hey, sarge.” Satoru returned, aiming for a cheeky smile that ended up more sheepish than anything else. “Long time no see…”

“When I said to take the mission seriously, I didn’t mean for you to go pull a stunt like this.” Yaga tsked.

“Why does everyone keep blaming me and not the actual killer we have in custody?” Satoru crossed his arms, sulking.

Shoko stood up. “I need coffee,” she said flatly. “Suguru, you’re coming with. It’s almost time for your walk anyway.”

“Let me help!” Yuu went over to the other side of the bed, letting Suguru balance against him as the black-haired man planted his feet on the ground and slowly stood up.

“When do I get to do that?” Satoru pointed at Suguru while addressing Shoko. He knew if he tried to get out of bed without her express approval, she’d most likely follow through on some drastic measures.

“Not for another two days at least. You both might have the same amount of stitches, but you lost more blood.” Shoko replied. “Try to even stick a foot off the side of the bed, and I’ll cuff you to it.”

“Kinky.” Satoru waggled his brows at Shoko, receiving a bonk to the head for it. It was lighter than usual, meant more as a reflexive warning than an actual scolding.

“We’ll be back in a little bit,” Suguru promised.

“Bring me back snacks,” Satoru ordered. “I’m starving.”

Kento and Yuu bowed to Yaga before they left with Shoko and Suguru.

It was just Yaga and Satoru now.

The older man came over, scooting Shoko’s chair a little closer before he sat down. He even removed his sunglasses, sliding them into the breast pocket of his uniform. “How do you feel?” he asked gruffly.

Satoru blinked, not having expected the question. Usually, Yaga liked to get right down to business. Then again, this wasn’t how assignments normally ended for them either.

Yaga visually checked Satoru over, the worry so clear in his naked gaze that it made the latter feel a pang of guilt. Yaga kept hovering between the stitches on Satoru’s forehead and the dark, mottled bruises covering his throat before remembering that Satoru’s eyes were between them.

“Shoko hooked me up on painkillers so I’m okay.” Satoru finally answered with a shrug. “So, he’s really in custody?” he questioned.

Yaga nodded, hands settled atop his knees. “Yes. Suguru’s statement revealed that Fushiguro Toji is the hitman otherwise known as the God Killer. We’re currently trying to track down all open homicides that could possibly be his work in addition to the ones he left his signature at.”

The perfect segueway had just dropped into Satoru’s lap and now he just had to take it. He took a breath, looking down as he considered how he was going to broach this.

“Yaga…” Satoru said quietly after a beat.

“What is it?” The older man questioned, voice going equally as low.

“There’s…something I’ve got to tell you.” Satoru admitted, hands fisting in the thin material of his medical gown.

Yaga was silent for a moment, and then there was a large hand landing atop Satoru’s head, careful to avoid the stitches.

“We’ve got time, Satoru.” Yaga assured him, and Satoru’s next inhale shuddered into his lungs.

Satoru swallowed down the lump in his throat, taking comfort from the older man’s presence. With Suguru, they gave as much as they took from each other. With Yaga… Satoru couldn’t help but feel like he was safe.

Right now, Yaga wasn’t Satoru’s superior officer. Right now, Yaga was the man who had picked Satoru up and pressed his face into his shoulder so that he didn’t have to keep looking at his parents’ bodies as the older man had carried him out of his childhood home.

“Fushiguro’s the one who orphaned me,” Satoru finally revealed.

Yaga took a deep breath, exhaling forcefully through his nose. “Goddamn,” was what he settled on.

It wrenched a laugh out of Satoru, startled at first before it veered toward hysterical.

“Goddamn.” He repeated in agreement, voice cracking along with the last threads of his composure.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“A fucking promotion.” Satoru finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them after Yaga had left.

It had barely been three weeks since their failed assignment. Less since Satoru and Suguru had been discharged from the hospital and allowed to return to their apartment.

“He did say that he was recommending us a couple months ago,” Suguru reminded dully.

“Yeah, okay, but giving it to us after this assignment? They died.” Satoru growled, starting to pace the living room.

Suguru’s gaze fell to the newspaper on their coffee table. Both of their departmental headshots and Toji’s mugshot were on the front page. The article delved into how a hero cop and his partner had arrested one of Japan’s most elusive assassins, solving the fourteen year old murder of his own parents in the process.

“They made Amanai and Kuroi-san into a single byline.” Satoru muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

He couldn’t get over the fact that Riko hadn’t wanted to go through with the ceremony after all. She’d just wanted to go home with Misato. Both of their deaths had been for nothing.

Suguru had nearly broken down telling Satoru the details of what happened between him, Toji, and Riko. It had been their first night back from the hospital, holding each other as they laid in bed, voices hushed in the cover of darkness. Suguru only cried at night, too exhausted during the day.

Satoru hadn’t cried once. He’d shake, find it hard to breathe, and feel physically ill, but a single tear had yet to fall from him.

“I’m not accepting it,” Satoru decided after a moment. “They’re just promoting us because of the good publicity. Fuck that.” He snapped, crumpling up the newspaper and throwing it into the trash can.

“Satoru,” Suguru said quietly. It was all he needed to say to make Satoru stop pacing.

Satoru crossed his arms, glaring at the stain on the coffee table as if it was the true villain here. “It doesn’t feel right,” he bit out. “‘Sure, you failed your assignment, but good job on catching the killer. You’re detectives now.’”

“You’re right,” Suguru said.

“Suguru, you don’t— wait, what?” Satoru began in a huff before he paused, bewildered at how easily Suguru had agreed.

“I said you’re right.” Suguru repeated, his eyes knowing and gentle as he looked at him. “But becoming a detective is your dream, isn’t it? You shouldn’t be so quick to throw it away, Satoru.”

Satoru swallowed thickly, arms falling back to his sides and softening under Suguru’s tender gaze. He let out an aggrieved sigh as he went back over to the couch and plopped down next to Suguru, resting his head against his partner’s.

“Don’t abuse your ability to make me listen to you, Suguru.” He grumbled. “It’s underhanded.”

Suguru chuckled, wrapping an arm around Satoru and pulling him closer. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Satoru was quiet for another few moments before he shifted, peering at Suguru’s profile. “So…detectives, huh?” he murmured. “Think they’re gonna split us up?” he questioned, trying to keep his tone casual.

Suguru went quiet too, squeezing Satoru’s side. “Even if they do, it’ll be alright. I have your back no matter what, remember?”

Satoru relaxed, letting out a deep breath as he leaned against Suguru even more. Sometimes, being close was never enough. Even rarer was being able to solve the problem with words. This time, what rolled off his tongue was…

“And I’ve got yours.”

Suguru’s hold on him tightened, firm enough that Satoru knew he’d find impressions of his partner’s fingers on his skin later.

“It’ll be okay,” Suguru whispered. “It has to.”

Satoru had the distinct feeling that Suguru was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Satoru.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru waited until Suguru was asleep before slipping out of bed, sliding his pillow into the other’s arms and carefully sneaking out into the living room.

He went over to his bag, pulling out the folder Ijichi had put together for him. He headed to the couch next, pulling his Cinnamoroll throw over himself as he clicked on the lamp.

[CONFIDENTIAL]

RE: FUSHIGURO TOJI

Satoru took a steadying breath before he opened the folder to look at the files inside.

Toji was thirty-four, born to a maid who worked for the Zen’in family. His father wasn’t listed on his birth certificate, but his mother had put down Zen’in as his birth name and multiple sources confirmed that Toji’s father was a prominent politician who had passed away some years ago.

Ijichi’s sources went on to talk about abuse so horrific that they refused to go into detail. What they did admit to was witnessing the regular beatings, dehumanizing language, and severe neglect that Toji was put through for the entire duration of his childhood and adolescence.

Satoru closed the folder, swallowing down the nausea bubbling up in his throat. He hated this. Toji was someone he should be able to curse and despise completely. Reading about how terribly he was treated growing up—to see that he’d started out as a victim who’d never been given a chance—only served to humanize him.

It wasn’t fair. Toji had taken so much from him, and Satoru had every right to hate him. He did hate him.

However, a very small part of him was coming to understand Toji.

It was a sickening realization to have about someone he considered his own personal boogeyman.

Satoru took another breath, reopening the folder and beginning to read again.

Toji had run away from home when he was fourteen, alternating between stays in juvenile detention and living on the streets. The older he got, the less he tangled with the law.

Satoru knew it just meant he was getting better at not getting caught.

At twenty, Toji had killed Satoru’s parents. Satoru skipped over the case report, having long since learned the details by heart.

Not to mention, the memories from that night had been plaguing Satoru’s nightmares and leaving him jolting awake in Suguru’s arms like clockwork for the past three weeks. With his luck, reading the case report again would just make the dreams more vivid.

He was upset at himself for still being so affected by it. After all, it had happened years ago and while Satoru had loved his parents, it wasn’t as if his life was so bad now. He had Yaga and Suguru and Shoko. Kento and Yuu had started to wiggle their way into his small circle, too.

Satoru had thought he would be able to find closure after catching the killer. Somehow, he felt even more lost now than when he was searching for clues in the dark. And Satoru just couldn’t bring himself to stop searching now.

Toji was an enigma and there was still so much Satoru didn’t know.

The matter of Toji’s clients was the biggest mystery of all. Specifically, the one who’d hired Toji to kill Satoru’s parents and leave him alive.

If there was a single hint to their identity that could be found by diving into Toji’s history…

Satoru kept reading.

Surprisingly, Toji became inactive at age twenty one. Satoru remembered Toji telling him killing his parents had only helped his hitman career, so then why did he stop after just a year?

Satoru realized why when he saw the marriage certificate. Toji had stayed off the radar for the next four years.

Then, his wife died in a car crash and Toji had returned to the underworld with a vengeance.

He remarried less than a year later, but this time his work as the God Killer didn’t slow whatsoever, let alone like it had with his first wife.

God Killer. A demon who slayed gods without fear or repentance. The title given to the elusive assassin who used the Inverted Spear of Heaven to kill the rich and powerful no matter what type of security they tried to use to defend themselves.

Satoru read over the dozens of cases Toji had been involved in: ten years’ worth of criminal activity of a very prolific, high in demand jack of all trades.

By the time Satoru finished, he felt nauseous again. Thankfully, there was only one page left. However, when Satoru read over it, his brain blanked, unable to comprehend what the information was telling him.

Toji had children.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“You’re certainly not who I expected to be calling. Too busy to come down to the prison to ask your questions?”

“I’ve seen enough of your face to last me a lifetime.”

“If you’re trying to hurt my feelings, it’s not going to work, but keep beating around the bush. You’re not wasting anyone’s time but yours.”

“The worms.”

“What about them?”

“You left one behind on everyone you ever killed. You tried to leave one on me. Why?”

“Do you really wanna know? I told you everything has a price, pretty boy.”

“…I am not putting money into your commissary account.”

“Tell you what… When I get out of here, I’ll give you a repeat demonstration. I owe you for making my arm unusable. Imagine how much one of my limbs costs, let alone my dominant arm.”

“Firstly, you’re not getting out of prison for a long, long time. Suguru and I are gonna take the stand at your sentencing to make sure of it. Secondly, it was your arm or your head. You’re lucky I wanted you to rot away behind bars and live with everything you’ve done.”

“Enjoy your peace while it lasts. Don’t forget, I always collect on my dues.”

“Yeah, well, don’t forget not to drop the soap. Good luck in gen pop with one good arm.”

CLICK.

Chapter Text

They got separated.

The following weeks became rougher and rougher on Satoru and Suguru.

Satoru’s training was taken on by Nakahara Heisuke, a detective at their precinct who was only months from retirement. Suguru was sent to a precinct on the opposite side of Tokyo to learn from the only Zen’in who had entered law enforcement—Zen’in Jinichi.

Daily lunch dates became weekly, then every other week, and finally, they were lucky if they could see each other on the rare occasions that they weren’t meeting for a call.

Satoru threw himself into every case that came his way. He was still looking into finding out who had hired Toji to kill his parents; it was his main goal above everything else.

Suguru was similarly absorbed in his work, however, he focused on open cold cases. Closure rates were low, but it didn’t stop Suguru from wanting to find the criminals who escaped justice and give some closure to the victims’ loved ones.

Satoru could feel him and Suguru growing apart, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it because otherwise he would be swallowed up by the overwhelming fear that they weren’t going to make it. Suguru had become so distant that no matter what Satoru did, he wasn’t getting through to him like he used to.

One thing hadn’t changed however: they still came home to each other every night. They were exhausted from work, Suguru especially after coming from the other side of the city, and only ever had the energy to slip into bed together.

Things began to look up when they were both finally released from training: Suguru returned to their precinct and was partnered up with Satoru when Nakahara retired.

Slowly, the invisible wall that had been put up between them was being taken down brick by brick. Satoru didn’t know how to feel about the fact that they just needed to be by each other’s sides to solve a big part of the problem.

The last step was communication, but neither of them were very good at talking about the important things. Satoru hated to admit it, but he was too cowardly to be the one to take the first step. What if he said the wrong thing and broke the fragile healing they’d just begun?

And then Satoru came home to find Suguru on the couch, elbows on his knees and forehead resting against his clasped hands. A pair of wedding rings were sitting in front of him on the coffee table.

The rings had belonged to Satoru’s parents. He’d dug them out of storage not even a month after meeting Suguru in their first year of college. He’d gotten them resized when they moved in together before he could talk himself out of it. They were supposed to be safely tucked away in a shoebox in the furthest corner of their closet.

And now they were there, staring incriminatingly at him.

The ensuing conversation was…nonexistent.

Suguru had taken Satoru’s hand, picked up the platinum ring , and slid it onto his finger. Then, he’d held out his own for Satoru.

Satoru’s fingers trembled as he picked up his father’s ring —tungsten and marbled with gold—and carefully placed it on Suguru. He traced over the ring, coming to the startling revelation that he could no longer remember how his father’s hands had felt.

He did know that Suguru’s were just as strong yet gentle. It made sense for him to have Satoru’s father’s ring.

Satoru wondered if his mother would be mad that he was wearing hers. It looked nice on his finger, but he’d taken after her to begin with.

A drop landed on Suguru’s hand, and then another, and another.

Satoru’s vision blurred, his cheeks suddenly growing hot and wet. There was so much emotion overflowing from his chest that it was clogging his throat and holding his tongue hostage.

“Oh, Satoru…” Suguru murmured, pulling him close.

Satoru tucked his face into Suguru’s neck, uncaring of the awkward angle. Suguru’s fingers slid into his hair, cradling the back of his head. Satoru was sure he was crushing the other with how tightly he was holding him, sniffling as he shuddered against his neck.

“You’re always taking your time with these things, huh?” Suguru huffed, stroking Satoru’s hair. “Let it out now.”

Satoru sobbed, finally breaking down in Suguru’s arms.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru should have known better.

Knowing how much Suguru loved him made the fact that the other was pulling away from him hurt infinitely more.

Suguru was hiding things from Satoru, coming home late and sliding into bed behind him only to be gone by the time Satoru woke up.

They were partners, but Satoru felt as if he and Suguru were inside a box with a glass wall separating them. He could see him, but he couldn’t touch him.

No matter how much Satoru tried to ask Suguru about it, the other kept putting it off and promising to tell Satoru eventually.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“Here, Satoru, take this.”

“What is it for?”

“It’s a key, Satoru.”

“I can see that. What is it for?”

“You know the coin lockers at Shibuya station?”

“Yeah, I do… What’s going on, Suguru?”

“If anything happens to me, go to the station, open the locker, and take what you find to Yaga. Promise me you’ll do it.”

“Suguru, what—”

“Satoru, just…do this for me.”

“…”

“Please.”

“…I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I’ll tell you everything soon. Please wait a little longer.”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Getou Suguru was a liar.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“Huh?”

Yaga’s expression twisted, unable to look Satoru in the eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself. It’s confirmed that Suguru’s gun was used to killed one of the—”

“I heard you. That’s why I said ‘huh,’” Satoru growled. He hadn’t even made it out the front door when Yaga had shown up and delivered news that had him physically ill.

“They’re checking Suguru’s parents’ house now.” Yaga revealed, letting out a breath. “…I have to ask if you know where he is—”

“LIKE HELL I DO!” Satoru exploded, turning red as he smacked his fist against the wall. Yaga winced, still refusing to look into the younger’s eyes because he knew he wouldn’t be able to bear the devastation in them. “Suguru didn’t come home last night and he never explained where he was going.” Satoru stated, going eerily quiet in comparison to the shouting he’d done just a moment before. “I don’t know where he is, and he hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts.” Satoru continued through gritted teeth, glaring at Yaga. “Now, are you going to take my word for it, or do you need to go check all the rooms because you don’t trust me?”

Yaga closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath as he pursed his lips. He placed a heavy hand on Satoru’s shoulder, squeezing it briefly before he left.

Satoru pulled out his phone, hitting redial as he called Suguru for the dozenth time. Every ring felt like a stab to the head, reminiscent of Toji’s blade.

“You’ve reached Getou Suguru. I can’t answer the phone right now. I’m sorry I missed your call, but leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.”

*BEEP*

“Suguru, what the hell did you do?” Satoru rasped, clutching his phone desperately. “Look, we can deal with whatever this is. Just call me. Come home. We’ll figure it out, so please…”

Satoru hung up before his voice could crack even more, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes as he screwed them shut, trying in vain to stave off the impending migraine that was no doubt going to split his head open.

How had things gotten this bad?

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru went to Shibuya in the evening, hand clenched so tightly around the key Suguru had given him that he’d bled.

He’d hastily stopped in the bathroom, washing the key clean and stuffing a paper towel in his fist before he made his way to the coin lockers. He passed one after another until he finally reached it.

Locker 005.

Satoru swallowed thickly, standing frozen in front of the locker long enough for a station cop to come over and check on him. Satoru waved him away, flashing his own badge and reassuring him that everything was fine.

Taking a deep breath, Satoru finally opened the locker. Inside was a briefcase, a single folded letter sitting atop it. He picked up the letter first, unfolding it and quickly catching the Polaroid that fluttered out.

It was a photo of him and Suguru with Suguru’s parents. It was from the first time Suguru had brought Satoru home to meet them. They’d taken to Satoru even quicker than Suguru had, adopting him into the fold before the sun had even set.

Satoru traced over the photo, taking in yet again just how much Suguru looked like his father: the same jaws, thick dark hair, and noses. His eyes and smile were both from his mother though, practically twins when their eyes crinkled closed from the force of their smiles. Satoru himself had stood in the middle with Suguru, cheeks bunched around a huge grin as he kept a loose arm around Suguru’s waist.

Satoru had called Suguru’s parents after Yaga had left. He had tried to explain what was happening, but it was hard when he barely knew anything himself. Suguru’s mother made him promise to bring Suguru home, the same one she’d requested of him year after year since they’d first met.

It was the first time Satoru agreed with a heavy heart, unsure if he would be able to keep it but knowing he would stop at nothing to make sure it would happen.

Satoru tucked the photo behind the letter, moving on to read Suguru’s neat handwriting.

To whoever finds this, tell Satoru and my parents that I’m sorry.

If it’s you, Satoru… I wish I could’ve told you in person. Be careful.

–Getou Suguru

Satoru knew that he shouldn’t open the briefcase at the station. Hell, he didn’t even want to open it at home. There were too many risks, especially with how much precaution Suguru had taken to protect whatever was in the briefcase.

Satoru went over to one of the payphones, dialing Yaga from it.

“We need to meet somewhere secure. You know the place. One hour.”

Satoru hung up, looking down at the briefcase in his hand and wishing for X-ray vision. The suspense was going to kill him. However, an equally big part of him didn’t want to know. There was safety in ignorance, and Satoru had been put through the ringer over the past year. He didn’t know how much more he could take.

It was a momentary weakness. Satoru forced himself to quash the thoughts.

Suguru had left this to him because he trusted Satoru would see through whatever he’d started.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Yaga and Satoru met at the abandoned home of a local business tycoon who had committed murder-suicide with his family. Well, what was left of the home.

Satoru and Suguru had been rookies fresh out of field training sent to go check on another pair of officers who’d never responded on their radios. There had been a report of trespassers inside the building, which was famous for being haunted.

Haunted or not, there had been a gas leak despite all utilities having been turned off years ago. If Satoru and Suguru hadn’t gotten there in time, the officers that had passed out inside would’ve perished from the flames.

The entire house had burned down, but an impressive underground bomb shelter was revealed in the process. Satoru and Yaga had decided if there ever came a time when neither of their places were safe to meet, they would have the bomb shelter to fall back on.

Suguru had never understood why they needed to plan ahead like this, what could warrant such paranoia, but Satoru and Yaga had known from the start that there were times when they could never be too careful.

It was ironic that Suguru was the reason Satoru and Yaga were meeting like this now.

“What is it?” Yaga questioned as soon as they shut the door behind them and Satoru set the briefcase down on the table.

“I don’t know yet. Suguru gave me a key to a locker and this is what I found inside. He told me that if something ever happened to him, bring it to you.” Satoru admitted, fingers drumming nervously against the leather. Truth be told, he trusted Yaga but a part of him was still skeptical about revealing something that could be used to hurt Suguru. Especially when the latter was the subject of a departmental manhunt.

Yaga was silent, coming over so he could stand by Satoru. Satoru handed Yaga the letter and photo, knowing that if he was going to figure this out with him, the older man may as well have all the information.

He waited until the other finished, and Yaga carefully folded the letter with the photo inside before handing it back to Satoru.

“Do you know what the code is?” Yaga asked.

Satoru clicked his tongue, sending the older man a look. “I’m offended you even had to ask,” he tsked. “It’s Christmas Eve, obviously.”

Yaga stared back at him, expression flat. “…obviously. Care to share the reasoning anyway?”

Satoru thumbed at the numbers on the dial lock, eyes shadowing as he shrugged. “That picture… It was the first time Suguru took me home to meet his parents. He confessed that night.”

Yaga softened, and he nodded. Satoru had felt guilty about leaving Yaga by himself on Christmas, having spent quite a few with him growing up. But the moment Yaga had heard Suguru’s offer, he’d insisted in no uncertain terms that Satoru was going back home with his partner and signed himself up for the holiday shift at work to keep busy. Satoru had made sure that he and Suguru spent New Year’s with Yaga to make up for it.

Satoru shook himself out of his thoughts, readying himself as he opened the briefcase.

There were multiple files inside, and Satoru and Yaga exchanged looks before they picked one up each and began to read.

Barely moments later:

“Satoru, this is…”

“Yeah…”

“He’d alluded to corruption, but to see it goes this far…”

“All those cold cases he worked, he noticed the pattern of the higher ups getting rid of loose ends and liabilities.”

“These names… there’s not a lot of evidence but what there is… Suguru must have taken a lot of risks just to get all of this.”

“…yeah.”

“It’s harder to believe he kept it from you. I thought he told you everything, Satoru.”

“If it was this dangerous, then I’m sure that idiot internalized his worries and overthought everything like he always does. He probably thought he had to handle it himself. Fucking dumbass.”

“Satoru…”

“The question is, how does this come back to Suguru’s connection to an orphanage being burned down, all of the children going missing, and three people dying?”

“There’s something else I didn’t tell you, Satoru… There’s reason to believe Ryoumen-kai is involved. The oyabun himself, Ryoumen Sukuna. He was seen entering the building just shortly after Suguru did.”

“I knew it! There had to be some other explanation for all this! Clearly, Sukuna has Suguru and is threatening him somehow. Suguru wouldn’t have done any of this willingly.”

“Satoru, nothing is for sure yet. There’s still much we don’t know…”

“He’s being used, sarge. I just know it. The answers are all here, we just have to find them.”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Two days later when Shoko called and said that Suguru was in Shinjuku, Satoru’s still heart dared to beat again.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru waited until Suguru got close enough before he grabbed the black-haired man by the sleeve and yanked him into the alley behind KFC.

“Are you fucking crazy walking down the street like that?” Satoru hissed as he pushed Suguru up against the wall, hands fisted in the other’s sweater. “Every cop in Tokyo’s looking for you!”

The look Suguru gave him was shuttered, giving nothing away and so startlingly cold that Satoru nearly let go of him.

He refrained. He had to. Satoru was just so tired of letting Suguru go.

“Every cop including you,” Suguru said after a moment. “There’s a reason I let you find me.”

Satoru stared at him in disbelief. His gaze dropped down to the chain around Suguru’s neck, knowing what rested against his chest, hidden out of sight.

“I would think so, considering we’re partners.” Satoru stated through gritted teeth, meaning it in every sense of the word. “You made me your—”

Suguru shook his head. “You don’t need to say it,” he murmured.

Satoru was glaring, letting his anger take over so that he wouldn’t succumb to the overwhelming urge to burst into tears and give into grief.

He hadn’t lost him yet. There was still hope. There had to be.

“Why, Suguru?” Satoru demanded, expression twisted in a mirror of how his insides were equally as knotted. “Why’d you keep all of this from me? Weren’t we supposed to have each other’s backs? What happened at the orphanage? What justifies all of this?!” He yelled, growing louder and louder with every question, voice cracking and fists tightening as he held onto Suguru with every ounce of strength he had.

Suguru placed his hands atop Satoru’s, the physical contact ushering air into the latter’s stagnant lungs.

As quickly as Suguru had given life to Satoru’s body through touch alone, his next words took it away just as fast.

“I just couldn’t sit by and watch them get away with it anymore,” Suguru sighed. “They disgust me, Satoru. Money and power lets people get away with too much. It turns them into monsters. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you see the hatred festering in me. You… You’re the one good thing I’ve got left.”

Satoru let out a wounded, confused noise when Suguru pried his hands off him, creating an inalienable space between them. “Suguru, what—” 

“The orphanage was the last straw, Satoru.” Suguru revealed, voice low. “You must have heard about his involvement, and I know what you’re thinking… you’re wrong.”

Satoru sucked in a breath, heart sinking as he watched Suguru slowly put more distance between them, the shadows of the alley creeping over his body with every step.

“Suguru, don’t—” Satoru cut himself off, the words stuck in his throat. Listen to me! he thought desperately. Stop thinking about everything else and just come back here.

“I joined Ryoumen-kai. If I can’t change things from within the system, then I’m going to go outside of it.” Suguru stated with finality, driving the last nail into the coffin. “I’m sorry, Satoru. This is how it has to be. Don’t… Don’t come looking for me.”

And then, Suguru turned around and disappeared into the dark, leaving Satoru standing at the mouth of the alley, light spilling from behind him and casting a long, lonely shadow.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Yaga found him on the steps to his apartment building, headphones shoved in his ears as he blared music loud enough for the older man to hear from a couple feet away. Yaga sighed, reaching down to tug the headphones out of Satoru’s ears.

“You let him go,” he said after a moment.

Satoru didn’t even look at him. “Did you really think I was going to arrest him in the first place?”

Yaga looked at Satoru’s tired eyes and the trembling curve of his mouth. “You’re right… I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Satoru was silent for a minute before he exhaled, staring off into the distance as he chose his next words.

“Sarge, I’m a good cop right?” Satoru prompted.

“Yeah, and you’re way too full of yourself.” Yaga replied without missing a beat.

“It wasn’t enough for me to just notice things,” Satoru said quietly. “I tried and tried to get through to him, but… I can only save people who are prepared to be saved.”

Satoru’s hand went to his chest, palm resting over where his ring sat under his shirt.

The fact that Suguru loved him but not enough to stay was a bitter pill that he didn’t think he was ever going to be able to swallow.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru shut the door behind him with a click, taking his shoes off and going to put them into the rack. He paused when he saw the empty space where Suguru would put his shoes.

Suguru wasn’t going to be putting his shoes next to Satoru’s for a long time. Most likely never again.

Satoru didn’t even put his house slippers on, trudging straight to the bedroom and falling face first into the rumpled sheets atop the mattress.

He’d landed on his side of the bed, but he reached over to grab Suguru’s pillow and pulled it close, breathing in the lingering scent of vetiver and green tea.

The tears welled over before he could stop them, a strangled sob leaving his throat only moments later.

This time, Suguru wasn’t there to hold him when he broke down.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

The passage of time after that was blurry, but Satoru believed it was less than a week later that he received a call from Ijichi.

“Ah, Gojo-san… It appears there’s been a bit of a complication with the family you asked me to keep an eye on.”

Satoru barked out a laugh. “Of fucking course there is. What is it?”

“Fushiguro-san seems to have…left.” Ijichi answered slowly.

“What?” Satoru said flatly.

“She left three days ago. It appears that rent was due and she just…up and disappeared. The children are still at the residence.” Ijichi continued, and Satoru felt his stomach clench. “The landlord has issued a notice of eviction and I believe is trying to get a hold of child protective services.”

Satoru thought about the kids, who had been abandoned yet again by adults that were supposed to take care of them. He thought of them being sent to an orphanage, and the report of the one that Suguru and Sukuna burned down flashed to the forefront of his mind.

Satoru didn’t know what possessed him to say:

“I’m coming down there. If there’s no one else to take them in, then… I’ll do it.”

Satoru wasn’t aware of it at the time, but it was a decision that wouldn’t just save the kids, but himself too.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“…and you both know the rest,” Satoru finished.

Tsumiki was scrambling out of her seat and flinging herself onto Satoru in seconds. The older man had to quickly wrap his arms around her to make sure she wouldn’t fall. Not that he imagined she would with how tightly she was squeezing him with her thin limbs.

Before Satoru could say anything, a sob fell from Tsumiki’s lips, muffled into his chest as his uniform shirt grew increasingly soaked.

“Miki…” Satoru murmured, placing a gentle hand on her head and letting her cry it out.

“I–I’m so s–sorry!” Tsumiki wailed, burying her face harder into Satoru’s front. “Y–You… Y–You…!”

Satoru shushed her when it seemed clear that she was too upset to keep going, rubbing her back. Taking a deep breath, he finally chanced a look over at Megumi.

The boy’s head was hung, and Satoru felt another pang of distress when he saw the glistening wetness pooling in jade eyes.

“Megumi—” Satoru began.

The boy sprung out of his seat and ran from the room as if the devil himself was chasing him.

“Megumi!”

Satoru and Tsumiki rushed after him, only slowing to a stop when they saw him go up to Kento and Yuu in the bullpen.

Kento shook his head at Satoru, while Yuu’s brow furrowed as he listened to Megumi. Yuu took the boy by the hand, leading him out of the room through the other exit while Kento approached Satoru.

“Kento, I—” Satoru swallowed.

The blond held up a hand. “There’s no need to explain. I understand the gist. Come on, you two need to go somewhere away from prying eyes.”

Satoru stared after the doorway that Megumi and Yuu had left through, letting Kento guide him and Tsumiki out the opposite direction.

“H–He’s just overwhelmed,” Tsumiki sniffled. “He’s not mad at you, Gojo-san…”

Satoru let out a startled laugh, clearing his throat when he realized how high and pitchy his voice had come out. “Yeah… you’re right, Miki. Thanks,” he said.

Kento took the two of them to the break room, him and Satoru falling into routine as they made themselves coffee. Satoru took Suguru’s mug for himself like always, making Tsumiki some hot chocolate in his own white mug.

The three of them sat down at the table, Tsumiki’s chair scooted as close as possible to Satoru’s so that she could be pressed up against his side.

Kento kept a respectable couple of inches between himself and Satoru, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they stayed in semi-comfortable silence. Satoru appreciated the blond’s presence all the same.

Satoru knew Megumi would come around and talk to him eventually, but the knowledge that the boy hadn’t even been able to look at him had opened up a pit in his stomach.

He just wanted a fucking break.

Chapter Text

Over the course of the day, Satoru had gotten the feeling that they were being watched.

He was the son of jewelers, heir to the Gojo Family, and practically a little prince. He was used to people staring at him and his parents. There had already been a fair amount of kidnapping attempts on him—none successful so far due to the self-defense training his parents made him take and the two bodyguards by his side at all times—so he’d learned to differentiate the types of gazes that would fix on him and his parents.

This felt different.

It made Satoru’s skin prickle and his stomach flutter, but not in a good way. He hadn’t quite figured out how to bring it up to his mother or father just yet.

They had just gotten out of the town car, Satoru’s mother taking his small hand into hers as they went to cross the meager distance from the car to the restaurant, when Satoru felt it.

The boy turned, big crystal-blue eyes landing directly on a man only a half a block away from them.

The man looked older than him but younger than his parents, Satoru couldn’t really tell. He was wearing nondescript clothing, and he had black hair that was a little long and shaggy. The most noticeable aspects of him were the scar along the corner of his mouth and the pair of emerald-green eyes that widened a fraction when he met Satoru’s gaze.

Satoru knew instantly he didn’t like him. His second realization was that the man was most likely the cause of the weighted gaze on him and his parents.

“Satoru? What is it, dear?”

The boy blinked up at his mother, pointing at the man that had been watching them, but when she looked over, he was already gone.

Satoru’s brow pinched, squeezing his mother’s hand tighter as he shook his head. She let the matter go, squeezing back reassuringly as they went into the restaurant.

Satoru relaxed when he saw his father waiting for them at their usual table, the harsh lines of the man’s face disappearing to make way for a small smile at the sight of his wife and son. The warm look in his eyes was all the boy needed to feel safe.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru didn’t know what had woken him up, blinking drowsily as he pulled his stuffed rabbit closer to him. He told his mother he was getting too old to sleep with toys, but he would always end up with his velvet rabbit back in his arms night after night.

Just when Satoru was about to go back to sleep, he heard it: a distant thudding noise. He realized now that he’d been woken up by a similar one just moments before.

The door to Satoru’s room was slightly ajar, and he knew for a fact that his parents were always careful to close it properly when they were done checking on him.

Satoru weighed the pros and cons of getting out of bed before peeling his plush covers off and swinging his legs over the edge. He felt around for the bed steps and silently padded down, leaving his rabbit behind as he tucked his feet into fluffy house slippers.

Satoru went over to the door, going to close it when he paused, peeking his head out into the hallway. There was light coming from his parents’ room, silver moon rays spilling soft and delicate onto the floral floor runner.

The boy shivered, both from the chill of the night and the sight of his parents’ door open. His silk striped pajama set was comfortable but far from warm. He looked back at his big, cozy bed and his rabbit waiting for him. He was torn once more between staying put and venturing out.

He chose the latter, quietly heading into the hallway as he yawned, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. He reached the door, pushing it open further as he entered the room.

“Mom? Dad?” He called, yelping when he immediately slipped in something wet, crashing to the floor. Satoru winced as he banged his knees, looking down to see what had caused him to fall.

Blood.

Satoru scrambled back, eyes wide and breath catching in his chest. He tumbled over something, the trapped air in his lungs released in a gasp when he realized that he’d tripped over his mother.

“Mom? Mom!” Satoru cried, crawling over and beginning to shake her. “Mom, what happened? Are you okay?” He sniffled, struggling to turn her over. He fell back with a grunt but managed to get her face up.

There was a hole in her forehead, the blue eyes he’d inherited from her were wide and lifeless, white hair and lashes dyed red.

Satoru felt sick, completely paralyzed as he stared at his mother’s body. He snapped out of it after a few moments, gaze falling to the bed where he saw the outline of his father’s silhouette.

Satoru ran to the bed, barely managing to pull himself up, rushing over to his father’s side.

“Dad! Y–You have to wake up!” Satoru whimpered as he flung his arms around him, burying his face into the man’s chest. “It’s Mom, she–she—” he cut himself off with a broken sob. “Dad, please!”

Satoru froze when he realized how wet his father’s clothes were, eyes widening as he looked closer and saw that his father had also been shot, blood soaked into the pillows and sheets.

The boy hurried to the edge of the bed, throwing up everything he’d eaten from dinner. He shuddered as tears streamed hot and unending from his eyes and slipped off the tip of his nose, bile and stomach acid burning his tender throat.

Satoru had just seen his parents a few hours ago. They’d been fine. What happened? What was he supposed to do? Satoru panicked before it finally clicked: he needed to call someone—the police!

Satoru’s head whipped up, looking around for the phone and finding it only a few feet away from his mother. He fell to the floor in his haste to get down from the bed, picking up the device with bloody hands and letting out a frustrated noise as the phone nearly slipped from his wet palms.

He dialed 1-1-9, bringing the phone up to his ear and sucking in a breath when he realized that there was no ringing. He lowered the phone, punching in the numbers again and praying it would work this time.

“Too bad, kid. I already cut the landlines and power to the house.”

Satoru startled, phone clattering to the ground. He swallowed thickly, slowly turning to see a figure in the doorway.

It was the man from earlier.

He took a step forward and Satoru scrambled back, foot sliding in blood and sending the boy to the floor yet again.

“Wh–Who are you?” Satoru demanded in a trembling voice.

The man somehow managed to step around all of the blood on the floor to reach him.

Satoru crawled backwards, knowing better than to take his eyes off the man in front of him. The boy hiccuped when his back hit the bed, unable to go further.

The man lowered into a squat in front of him, the gun he’d used to kill Satoru’s parents still in his hand. Satoru kept looking between the weapon and the man’s neutral expression, unsure of which to focus on.

“My name’s not important,” the man finally replied. “Consider me a ghost. I’m just a means to an end.”

Satoru’s brow furrowed, terror giving way for a spark of frustration. “What does that mean?”

“What it means,” the man drawled slowly, “is that you said the wrong thing to the wrong person.”

Satoru blinked, confusion spreading over his features as his heart dropped into his stomach. “What?” he breathed.

The man clicked his tongue. “You pissed off my client, kid. So, you get taught the lesson that you can’t just go mouthing off to people.”

Satoru felt nauseous, stomach rolling as his eyes stung. “A–Are you gonna kill me too?” he whispered.

The man’s scar shifted as he smirked, teeth baring as he looked down at Satoru with something that could only be described as malicious amusement.

Satoru flinched when the man used the gun to tilt his chin up, tears finally spilling over anew.

“Spoiled little rich boys like you piss me off more than anything else. I’d be more than happy to, but…nah. Client decided it’d be more fun if you got to live with your folks’ blood on your hands.” The man answered easily, stealing all the air out of Satoru’s lungs.

The man finally got back to his feet, stretching idly as he surveyed the room before locking eyes with Satoru once more.

“You get a pass this time, but if we ever cross paths again… that means it’s your turn to become a notch on my belt.”

Satoru bit his lip so hard it began to bleed, tucking his knees close to him and wrapping his arms around himself. He stared unblinkingly as the man left, tears trickling down his cheeks as he slowly grew more and more numb.

Satoru knew he should get up. He knew he should go outside. He knew he should try to find help.

But he couldn’t bring himself to lift a finger. He was frozen in place, left bolted to the floor between the bodies of his dead parents’.

To leave them would be to leave behind his last semblance of safety. Satoru didn’t have anyone who could protect him anymore.

He stayed like that, curled up into himself and raw to the core until a pair of officers burst into the room, guns drawn.

Satoru watched as their expressions flickered with horror as they took in the scene. The female officer called for medics on her radio as she went to check on his parents, and the male officer reholstered his gun before slowly approaching Satoru.

“Neither of them…” the female officer trailed off, glancing at Satoru before back at her partner as she shook her head.

The male officer let out a breath, keeping a small berth between himself and Satoru as he bent down to his knees.

“My name is Yaga, and this is my partner.” The man introduced, gruff but not intimidating like his initial appearance implied. “If you come with us, we can get you checked out by medics.” He said, patient even as Satoru remained perfectly still, staring blankly at him. “It’s okay, we’ve got time.”

Yaga opened his arms, waiting for as long as Satoru needed to find the strength to get up off the floor. Every step toward the officer made the lump in the boy’s throat grow bigger and bigger. He shuddered when Yaga picked him up, a large hand enveloping the back of Satoru’s head as Yaga pressed his face into his shoulder.

“Easy… you’re alright now.” Yaga murmured, holding Satoru firmer as the tremors wracking the boy’s body became stronger.

Satoru’s throat was too clogged with grief to tell Yaga he was wrong. Satoru wasn’t alright. He was never going to be alright.

He only remembered his abandoned rabbit when they left the house, but it was too late to ask Yaga to go back.

Maybe it was for the best. Satoru was too old for toys now.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“You would’ve been better off keeping your head down, and now your luck’s run out.”

Satoru couldn’t breathe, gasping as a vice grip tightened around his throat.

“Sucks for you, kid, but it was personal this time.”

Blinding pain ripped through his torso, hot and agonizing like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

“You’ll get to go out as a set just like mom and dad.”

Flashes of Suguru’s face appeared, cycling between radiantly happy and excruciatingly haunted.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I’ll tell you everything soon. Please wait a little longer.”

Liar!

“I couldn’t let you see the hatred festering in me.”

That didn’t matter to Satoru. It never would’ve mattered. He just wanted Suguru to trust him enough to rely on him in the first place.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. This is how it has to be. Don’t… Don’t come looking for me.”

But it didn’t! It never had to be this way! How could Suguru ask such a cruel request of him? How could he knowingly let Satoru drift along without him by his side? Left jagged at the edges like a hastily torn photograph?

“You… You’re the one good thing I’ve got left.”

If Satoru meant that much to him, then why had Suguru left him? How was Satoru supposed to save him if he couldn’t even stay by his side?

“I love you.”

Liar…

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Suguru was leaving.

He was turning his back to him and walking off to a place where Satoru knew he wouldn’t be able to reach.

Satoru flung his arm out, desperately trying to grab onto Suguru before he could get too far.

A hand grabbed him by the neck, shoving a pained gasp out of his lungs as a blade pierced him right through the back.

“I warned you I was going to come to collect, didn’t I?”

Satoru couldn’t move, paralyzed as Toji’s voice spilled into his ear, breath hot against his cheek.

“Let’s have some fun, pretty boy.”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Satoru bolted out of bed with a cry stuck in his throat, clutching at his chest as he gasped for breath.

Cold sweat stuck his hair and shirt to his skin, heart hammering in his ribcage as he tried to force himself to calm down.

Satoru huffed in frustration, flopping back against the damp pillows as he rubbed tired hands over his face. Even in his sleep, he couldn’t find any rest.

He felt around for his phone, holding it over his face to check the time. He grimaced when he saw it was barely two in the morning. Sighing, he decided to get up and make something hot to drink. He probably still had the chamomile tea Kento had bought for him the last time the blond noticed that Satoru hadn’t been sleeping properly.

Satoru got out of bed, putting on his Cinnamoroll slippers. They were a proud Sanrio household—barring Megumi, but he was outvoted two to one. Tsumiki liked Chococat, and she and Satoru had unanimously delegated Badtz-Maru as Megumi’s mascot due to their similar spiky hair and grumpy pouts.

He smiled at the memory of himself and Tsumiki hiding all the other house slippers from Megumi so he’d be forced to wear the themed ones until the boy eventually got used to them.

Satoru checked on the kids, more instinctual than intentional at this point. He went to Tsumiki’s room first, quietly opening the door and seeing that the teen was sound asleep. When he went to do the same to Megumi, he found an empty bed.

Satoru kept calm, knowing that Megumi could still be somewhere else in the apartment. The bathroom was a bust, but when Satoru checked the living room, he saw a light on in the kitchen.

He let out a relieved breath, going over to find the boy sitting at the table with a steeping cup of tea and a book in front of him.

Megumi didn’t spare him a glance, brow furrowing as he kept his gaze focused on his book with too much intensity for the older man to believe he was actually reading.

Satoru blinked when Megumi pointedly pushed the cup toward him, casually turning a page after. The white-haired man couldn’t help the small, hopeful smile that grew on his lips at the action.

Yuu had assured him that Megumi would talk to him soon, but the boy had yet to say more than three words to Satoru in as many days since the latter had revealed his history with Toji to the kids.

There still wasn’t much acknowledgment, but it was better than the cold shoulder Megumi had been giving him prior to this.

Satoru took the tea, content to pull up a chair in front of Megumi and sip on his drink. He paused when he realized there was exactly the right amount of sugar in it, feeling momentarily overwhelmed at Megumi’s display of kindness. He was still emotionally vulnerable after his nightmare, so he had to fight to keep his expression serene and neutral.

The next five minutes were peaceful, the only sounds in the kitchen coming from Satoru’s little sips as he enjoyed his tea and the shuffling of pages as Megumi thumbed through his book.

When Satoru finished his drink, he rose from his seat, not even thinking about it when he carded a tired hand through Megumi’s hair. For the briefest of moments, the boy leaned into his touch, but the hope in Satoru’s heart flickered out as soon as Megumi realized what he was doing and jerked away.

Satoru tried to hide the disappointment that colored his features, turning and going to the sink to rinse out his cup. He’d just turned off the faucet when Megumi spoke up.

“I wanna see Itadori.”

Satoru froze, taking a measured breath before he replied, voice apologetic. “No can do, kiddo. It’s… It’s just not safe for you to go to school right now. Or his house.”

“Then let him come here!” Megumi snapped as sharply as he did his book closed.

Satoru turned, leaning back against the counter as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we can’t have that either. We can’t have anyone thinking he’s involved.” He murmured, firm in his stance yet unable to stop the guilt from spreading through him at the sight of how frustrated Megumi looked. “I’m sorry, Megumin. This is to protect you both.”

“Don’t call me that!” Megumi spat, and Satoru was suddenly cold all over at the boy’s tone. Even when they’d first met, he’d never sounded so bitter. “I told you I hate it!”

Satoru swallowed thickly, raising his hands placatingly. “Yeah, okay… I’ll stop. I’m sorry, Megumi…”

Megumi looked even more upset at Satoru’s soft tone, shoving out of the chair and beginning to stalk away. He stopped at the doorway, not bothering to turn around.

“I can hear you at night. The walls are thin.”

Satoru’s blood turned to ice, and he was sure his heart had just stopped. “…you can?”

Megumi’s shoulders were shaking, and his fists clenched against his sides. “I just don’t get you,” the boy said brokenly. “I can’t even look at you anymore.” He muttered, voice quiet but deafeningly loud to Satoru, the words echoing in his ears.

“Megumi, I—” Satoru tried to stop him, but Megumi ran off, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Satoru stared up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly and taking deep breaths as he fought the urge to give into the devastation he was feeling.

He thought that there was still a tentative bridge between him and Megumi, but it was clear now that the boy was intent on taking it apart stone by stone.

Satoru quietly made his way back to his room, pausing when Tsumiki’s door opened and the girl peeked her head out, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Is everything okay? Thought I heard you and Megumi…” she mumbled.

Satoru went to pat her head, briefly hesitating when he remembered Megumi’s earlier reaction. Tsumiki just blinked up at him, half-awake and patient. He sighed, hand landing atop her soft hair.

“I’ll tell you later, Miki. It can wait. Go back to sleep, okay?” He reassured the teen.

Tsumiki nodded, gently patting Satoru’s hand before she went back into her room, shutting the door with a quiet click.

Satoru made it back to his own bed without further incident, flopping onto the sheets and pulling the pillow from the opposite side to him. Even though he sprayed it every now and then with Suguru’s old cologne, it still missed something that only came from the black-haired man himself.

Satoru untucked his ring from under his shirt, staring at the silvery metal and tiny diamonds. He was unsure who he missed more.

His parents? For never getting to know the kids Satoru had taken in? That Satoru would never be able to get their advice or see them dote on Megumi and Tsumiki?

Or Suguru? For leaving Satoru by himself to raise two kids when the other would’ve been much better at it? Granted, Suguru had never known about Satoru’s plans to take custody in the first place, but Satoru did know that his old partner would never have held Toji’s actions against the kids.

I can do this by myself, Satoru thought to himself as he curled around Suguru’s old pillow. But fuck you for making me wish you were here in the first place, Suguru.

This time when Satoru slept, it was dreamless.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

The most frustrating part of weeding through tips was knowing how many of them were from people giving them made up information just for shits and giggles.

Out of the ten new ones they’d received so far, Satoru could already tell that only two or three were worth checking out. He gathered up the slips, putting them into his pocket as he stood.

“I’m heading out. I’ll be back in a few hours,” he told Kento and Yuu before addressing Megumi and Tsumiki. “Remember, kids: don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Megumi ignored him, and Tsumiki giggled. Typical responses, but Satoru couldn’t help feeling a little sullen that Megumi still wasn’t talking to him.

“They’re in safe hands here,” Yuu assured. “I’m more worried about you, senpai.” He huffed with a frown.

Satoru waved dismissively. “I’m planning on taking Ino if he’s not on a call.”

“You really should be taking two officers with you, not just one.” Kento said in disapproval.

Satoru clicked his tongue. “Ye of little faith. You’re gonna break poor Ino’s heart if he heard you saying he’s not good enough.”

Kento looked unconvinced and mildly irked—a very common mix of emotions Satoru tended to bring out in him, but the blond dropped it after glancing at Megumi and Tsumiki. He may disagree with Satoru, but he wouldn’t push in front of the kids.

Satoru went to leave, but he was stopped just outside the door of the bullpen by an older woman with graying brown hair and eyes shadowed by grief. There was something in her features that appeared vaguely familiar. He may not know who she was, but he recognized that particular expression on her face and knew he needed to escape as quickly as possible.

Before he could take another step, she spoke.

“Are you Detective Gojo-san?” she questioned as she craned her neck to look up at him.

Knowing he was stuck for now, Satoru nodded. “The one and only. Is there something you need from me?” he tilted his head.

“My name is Tokuda Reiko, Tokuda Fuu was my daughter.” The woman greeted. “I would like to know what is being done to apprehend her killer.”

Satoru kept a neutral expression, inwardly grimacing. Death notifications were one thing, but being pressed for updates by loved ones had never been something he was very good at.

“I can assure you that I’m doing everything in my power to gather evidence and track down the man responsible.” Satoru answered evenly.

Tokuda frowned. “So, you do know who did it. It was that reprehensible yakuza group she was always getting called out on, wasn’t it?”

Satoru shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose details of the case with you. Like I said, I am working on—”

“You couldn’t care less, could you?” Tokuda narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s all about the chase for men like you. Who cares about the victims when you have elusive criminals to catch? I remember the article the news ran on you from some time ago. Are you too busy looking for your next fifteen minutes of fame to pay any proper attention to this case?” She accused, raising her voice as she injected vitriol into her tone.

Satoru took a deep breath, raising his palms in a calming gesture. “You’re understandably going through a lot right now, but—” he tried to placate the older woman.

SLAP!

Satoru touched the reddening mark where Tokuda had just struck him, quickly raising a hand to stop one of the nearby officers who was about to rush over.

“I–I…” Tokuda stared down at her palm, stinging and pink, before looking back at Satoru in shame. “I’m sorry, I—” she stammered, realizing she’d taken it too far.

Satoru took her hand into his, holding her gaze. “Tokuda was a great cop. Her case is in good hands—my hands. I will make sure that she sees justice. So, please, let me do my job.”

Tokuda sniffled, nodding. “Alright…” she whispered. “Thank you.” She bowed her head, quick to take her leave.

Satoru glanced over into the bullpen, skipping over the mix of nosy and concerned expressions of his coworkers.

Yuu had a hand on Tsumiki’s shoulder, and Kento had wrapped a full arm around Megumi’s torso to keep the boy back. The detectives were clearly displeased, brows and mouths pinched in anger. But it was how upset Megumi and Tsumiki looked that made Satoru’s stomach flip.

Satoru had the choice of going back to the kids, of explaining what had just happened and assuring them that he was fine.

Instead, he flashed them a thumbs up and the best reassuring grin he could muster before whisking away out of sight to go find Ino.

Kento and Yuu could handle it. They always got on Satoru for not relying on them more, so he would let the duo take care of the issue this time.

Satoru distinctly ignored the voice in the back of his mind that called him a coward.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Only one lead panned out, but Toji was long gone from the location and Satoru’s workday ended fruitlessly.

Kento and Yuu escorted Satoru and the kids back home as had become routine since Toji’s threat. The moment that the other detectives had left and Satoru had shut the door, Tsumiki was on him.

“What was that earlier? Why did that lady hit you?” she demanded.

Satoru raised his hands placatingly, an action he’d been doing too much of recently. “She’s the mother of one of the victims. She was just a little upset at the time, that’s all.”

“That doesn’t mean she has a right to take it out on you,” Tsumiki scowled. Her getting mad wasn’t unusual—something Satoru typically only saw Megumi bring out in her, but it was always strange to witness such a look on her normally pleasant countenance.

“You’re right,” Satoru nodded. “Violence is never the answer,” he clicked his tongue. “Most of the time, anyway. But look, I’m already all better! No need to worry,” he pointed at his cheek.

It was actually still a little bruised, but Satoru had put on a thin layer of makeup to cover it up since he didn’t want to walk around with a handprint on his face.

Megumi hadn’t said anything, hovering in the background. Satisfied with whatever he’d heard, he skulked off to his bedroom.

“Miki… I don’t suppose Megumi’s told you what’s going on with him, has he?” Satoru murmured after a moment.

Tsumiki shook her head. “No… I wish he would though. I don’t like seeing him so distant.”

Satoru sighed, patting Tsumiki’s shoulder. “Alright then, go wind down. I’ll figure out what to do for dinner.”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Dinner went as it had ever since Satoru had told the kids about Toji: with him and Tsumiki trying to fill the silence while Megumi ate without so much as a peep. Satoru and Tsumiki had exchanged looks, both of them deciding that they had given the boy enough space.

So, the moment they’d finished their food and cleared away the table, Tsumiki took Megumi by the shoulders and marched him straight to the couch.

“Tsumiki, what—” Megumi began in annoyance.

“This is an intervention,” Tsumiki huffed as she crossed her arms.

“Yeah, it’s time you fess up what’s really been bothering you.” Satoru said firmly, crossing his arms as well.

“Right, because ambushing me is gonna go so well…” Megumi muttered.

“Are you going to talk if it’s just one of us?” Satoru raised a brow. “Are you more comfortable with your sister?” his voice went softer.

Megumi stiffened, shaking his head. “You…You don’t have to go.”

Satoru and Tsumiki shared relieved looks, going to sit on either side of the boy.

“Seriously, Megumi. What’s going on?” Tsumiki prompted.

Megumi was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke. “You’re lucky, Tsumiki… You don’t share any blood with him. But me… I look like him, and I probably do stuff that reminds you of him, right?” The boy said flatly, looking over at Satoru.

The white-haired man blinked, not having expected that. “Well, some things just can’t be helped. But, you know it’s not only about nature. You learn plenty from who raises you. Even I’ve got some habits I picked up from Yaga,” he said as he made a face.

“You’re always brushing things off too easily!” Megumi accused, pointing at Satoru. “You act like nothing ever phases you, but I know that’s not the truth. Why do you keep pretending like things are fine when they’re not?” he demanded.

Satoru leaned back into the couch, drumming his fingers on his thigh as he considered how much he should tell them.

His mistake was glancing into pleading green eyes and sympathetic brown ones, folding immediately.

“There’s no point worrying about things when you have no control over them,” Satoru said after a minute. “Maybe I take that philosophy a little too far, but I’m not the kind of person who likes to deal with my own shit. If I grin and bear it long enough, the grins become real,” he shrugged.

“So, that’s what you did with me and Tsumiki? Grinned and beared it until you started to like us?” Megumi scowled, making Tsumiki’s eyes widen. She didn’t speak, suddenly looking worried as she waited for Satoru’s answer.

“You really think I kept you around because of some fucked up notion of responsibility? That I got stuck with you, so that’s why I’m still around?” Satoru asked with a furrowed brow.

Megumi swallowed, averting his gaze as he shrugged noncommittally. Tsumiki bit her lip, taking Megumi’s hand in hers and squeezing it.

“My dad hurt you badly, twice. If he hadn’t shown up the last time, maybe your Suguru wouldn’t have left…” Megumi whispered. “I don’t know how you can stand looking at us when we’re just reminders of him. Why don’t you hate us?”

Satoru sucked in a breath, everything finally clicking for him. Megumi hadn’t been avoiding him because he was angry with Satoru, it was because he was internalizing his own insecurities and blaming himself.

The white-haired man got off the couch, kneeling in front of Megumi and Tsumiki as he placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Look at me.” He said firmly, waiting until the kids returned his gaze. “Just because you were Toji’s kids once doesn’t mean you’re responsible for his actions. You’re my Miki,” he looked at Tsumiki, who sniffled, “and you’re my Megumin.” He said softly as he turned to the boy, the younger biting his lip. “I know I haven’t said this before, but I need you both to know that—”

Satoru was ready to lay his heart on the line for the kids—his kids. Anything to keep them from ever doubting how much they meant to him ever again.

A banging at the door interrupted Satoru before he could finish, loud and unceasing. He frowned, getting up and grabbing Megumi’s baseball bat.

“Stay here,” he ordered quietly.

Megumi and Tsumiki nodded, wide-eyed and nervous.

Satoru headed for the door, stepping silently as he went, checking the peephole. He nearly dropped the bat in shock, frozen for a brief moment before he hurried to open the door.

“What the hell are you doing here? What happened?” Satoru hissed.

Sukuna was at his doorstep, covered in bloody wounds with an unconscious Yuuji slung over his shoulder.

Sukuna grimaced, shoving past Satoru as he forced his way inside. “Congrats, detective, you get the pleasure of looking after me and my little brother tonight. Now quick, shut the door before anyone sees us.”

Satoru slammed the door behind him as he choked on air.

“Your what?”

Chapter Text

“Stop right there!” Satoru snapped, putting himself between Sukuna and the hallway that led into the living room. “You’ve got five seconds to explain yourself before I call for backup and take Yuuji-kun from you and kick your ass to the curb.”

Sukuna gave Satoru an unimpressed look, sneering at the baseball bat the other held up between them. “You really think that just because I’m a little injured you’d be able to take me in a fight?” He scoffed. “Make no mistake, I’m here for the brat’s sake.”

Satoru narrowed his eyes, waiting for Sukuna to continue but not lowering his weapon yet.

“I wasn’t followed, I made sure of it.” Sukuna said after a moment. “I’ll tell you what you need to know, but take care of him first.”

Satoru finally stood down, lips pursing. The fact that Yuuji was still unconscious did concern him.

“Stay here,” Satoru ordered. “Just… give me a minute.” He turned on his heel, quickly stalking into the living room. “Kids, listen to me very carefully: go to my room and stay there. Keep your phones on. Do not come out until I tell you to, do you understand?”

Megumi and Tsumiki exchanged glances, brows furrowed.

“What’s going on?” Tsumiki asked, not budging. Of course when Satoru needed her to be the agreeable one the most would be exactly when she decided to dig her heels in.

“I’ll let you know when I find out,” Satoru sighed. “Please, you two, just—”

“Itadori!” Megumi gasped.

Satoru turned, seeing that Sukuna had come up behind him with a scowl.

“I gave you your minute,” the pink-haired man tsked.

“Kids—” Satoru tried again.

“What’s wrong with Itadori?” Megumi demanded.

“Who is that man?” Tsumiki asked, looking warily at the yakuza as she tried to keep Megumi behind her.

“Enough with the twenty questions—” Sukuna growled, beginning to look annoyed.

“All of you, shut up!” Satoru barked, causing everyone to freeze. “We do this my way or we don’t do this at all.” He said firmly, voice edged with steel. Met with silence, he nodded. “Tsumiki, go get the first aid kit. Megumi, get water and towels. Sukuna, put Yuuji-kun down on the couch.” When the three just stared at him, Satoru felt his patience thin. “Now.”

Finally, there was a flurry of movement as the kids hurried to obey and Sukuna wordlessly brought Yuuji over to the couch.

“Okay, summarize his injuries. Worst to least severe.” Satoru ordered as he began to check the pink-haired boy over, ignoring the irritated expression that flashed over Sukuna’s face at being told what to do.

“Maybe a concussion, a sprained ankle, and some cuts.” Sukuna listed off before tsking. “I don’t know, I was too busy getting us out of there.”

Satoru nodded, fingers gently sliding through Yuuji’s hair as he searched for wounds. There was a small bump at the back of the boy’s head, and Satoru grimaced as his fingers came back tacky with blood. He continued his inspection, lifting Yuuji’s shirt to see his torso was clear but there were cuts on his arms. He checked his legs next, counting more cuts and bruises but the nastiest injury was Yuuji’s swollen, angry-red ankle.

Megumi and Tsumiki rushed back into the room, both of them trying to hand Satoru the supplies at the same time.

“Tsumiki, put the kit there. Megumi, give me the water and towels. One of you, go fill up two of the ice pack bags.” Satoru instructed, taking the items from Megumi.

Megumi and Tsumiki had a stare off before the girl gave in with a quiet sigh, leaving Megumi behind as she went to fulfill Satoru’s request.

“The units that were posted outside the building, what happened to them?” Satoru questioned Sukuna as he wetted a towel and began to clean the blood off Yuuji.

Sukuna scoffed. “Those blithering morons? It was child’s play getting inside under their noses.”

The knowledge that Sukuna had easily made his way into the building did not serve to ease Satoru’s nerves whatsoever.

Mainly because that meant that every night since Toji had been released, he’d simply chosen not to do anything while Satoru and the kids were home.

“Is he going to be okay?” Megumi demanded, inching closer as he looked at Yuuji’s unconscious form with a furrowed brow.

Satoru sighed. “Most likely, it depends on if he has a concussion and how severe it is.” What he didn’t mention was that Yuuji needed to go to a hospital. First, he had to figure out a way to convince Sukuna that they could get it done safely without causing a disagreement.

Satoru had seen the aftermath of Sukuna’s disagreements before, and he was not about to subject Megumi or Tsumiki to that.

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at Satoru, as if he had an inkling of what he was thinking. Satoru’s brow twitched, and he focused his attention on Yuuji.

When Tsumiki returned, Satoru handed the towel and water to Megumi, knowing that having something to do would help him feel less restless. The white-haired man focused on tending to Yuuji’s head wound. He’d already cleaned it, so now he just needed to disinfect, wrap, and ice it.

Yuuji’s face pinched as Satoru slid the ice pack bag under his head when he finished. The boy’s brow furrowed and his mouth twisted around a whimpered groan. His lashes fluttered, opening bleary eyes.

“G–Gojo…san?” Yuuji mumbled, seeing the detective hovering over him.

Satoru smiled, gently brushing Yuuji’s bangs off his forehead. “Hey, kid. How do you feel?” he asked.

“Mngh,” Yuuji replied weakly. “B–Been better…”

Satoru clicked his tongue. “I bet. I’m just gonna ask you a couple more questions to make sure there’s nothing serious to worry about, okay?” He said, waiting until Yuuji made a vague noise of agreement. “Alright, can you tell me where it hurts?”

“M–My head,” Yuuji said immediately, “a–and my a–ankle…”

Satoru held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked. Yuuji held up three fingers in answer. “That’s right, you’re doing good, Yuuji-kun.” Satoru praised, gaining a tiny smile from the pink-haired boy. “Stay with us, I’m gonna check one last thing.” He said, pulling out his phone and adjusting the flashlight to the lowest setting. He shined it into Yuuji’s eyes, letting out a breath of relief when both of his pupils reacted normally. “Good news, you almost certainly don’t have a concussion. Now, I normally don’t condone taking painkillers on an empty stomach, but you definitely need some ibuprofen.”

Tsumiki rifled through the first aid kit, finding a small strip of the medicine. She handed one of the pills and the water bottle she’d brought over to Satoru.

Satoru placed a hand against the back of Yuuji’s head, carefully lifting him up slightly so he could pop the pill into the boy’s mouth before tipping some of the water in so he could swallow.

Briefly, he remembered Suguru doing this for him when they’d been recovering together all those years ago. Tending to Yuuji like this now was something he wished could’ve been avoided. Seeing any kid in such a state would have him worried, let alone one he was as attached to as Yuuji.

“Just rest while we finish taking care of you, okay?” Satoru said softly as he laid Yuuji down again.

Yuuji closed his eyes, practically melting into the couch. “Thank y–you,” he whispered.

Satoru made eye contact with Sukuna, giving him a brief nod to assure him there was nothing critically wrong with Yuuji. At least now, Satoru’s original concerns about getting the boy to the hospital immediately could be pushed back slightly. He still didn’t want to keep Yuuji at the apartment for long, but this way he’d have more time to convince Sukuna to give Yuuji to safer guardians that weren’t currently being targeted by an assassin with a personal vendetta against them.

“Tsumiki, start disinfecting and bandaging Yuuji-kun’s cuts while I take a look at his ankle.” Satoru instructed, swapping spots with the girl. Megumi had already cleaned off Yuuji’s ankle, so Satoru took care of wrapping it up securely but not too tightly. He propped Yuuji’s leg up on a cushion before setting the second ice pack bag on his ankle.

“Who are you?” Megumi finally turned to Sukuna, looking up at the yakuza with a distrusting glare.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow at the boy’s brazenness, and Satoru went still as he observed the other man with a stony gaze.

Take one step out of line… Satoru’s look said.

Sukuna’s gaze slid from Satoru back to Megumi.

“I’m this brat’s big brother. That’s all you need to know,” Sukuna answered.

Megumi’s brow furrowed, but before he could ask anything else, Tsumiki piped up.

“All done! What now, Gojo-san?”

Satoru patted her head. “Good job, Miki. Now, we take Yuuji-kun to Megumi’s room and let him rest there for now. Grab the ice pack bags for me and bring that cushion, you two.” He said, picking Yuuji up in his arms after the kids had done as he’d instructed. “And you can stay right there, Sukuna.” Satoru said with a chilly smile when the yakuza moved to get up.

There was no way Satoru was letting Sukuna near his kids’ rooms; he was already itching out of his skin at having him inside his home in the first place.

Sukuna stayed seated, crossing one leg over the other and propping his cheek on his fist as he let out a put-upon sigh.

Knowing that was the best he was going to get, Satoru turned to the kids. “C’mon, you two.” He ushered them to Megumi’s room, not trusting Sukuna one bit.

He arranged Yuuji on Megumi’s bed, propping his leg up once more to elevate his ankle. He let Megumi and Tsumiki re-place the ice pack bags, patting them both on the head after.

“I’m staying with him.” Megumi said, hand curled tight around Yuuji’s.

“Me too,” Tsumiki said firmly.

Satoru sighed, the small smile on his face knowing and exasperated. “I figured you two would,” he said lightly. “I’m sorry that you had to see your friend like this. I know it’s scary, but you both did a great job and are a big reason he’s going to be okay.” He assured.

Tsumiki smiled back at him, putting a hand on Megumi’s shoulder and squeezing. The boy ducked his head briefly, trying to compose his expression.

“Gojo-san, Itadori-kun’s brother…” Tsumiki brought up after a moment. “I don’t know their circumstances, but I think that he must care for Itadori-kun a lot if he brought him here.”

Satoru glanced at Yuuji, brow furrowing as he took in all the injuries they’d treated. Even after one meeting, he’d come to adore Yuuji, and he’d seen how the boy had Megumi wrapped around his finger. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Yuuji was one of the only people that Sukuna treasured.

He knew one thing for sure, however: this was never supposed to happen.

“Alright, you two stay put. Phones on and be ready to call Kento, Yuu, or your grandpa if necessary. I need to go…sort out whatever this is with Sukuna, okay?” Satoru ordered, waiting until they both nodded before heading for the door.

“You… You’ll be fine, right?” Megumi asked just as his hand touched the doorknob, voice so quiet Satoru almost missed him speaking.

“Of course!” Satoru gave him a grin over his shoulder, flashing him a thumbs up.

Megumi’s brow was furrowed, and he bit his lip, looking somewhat anxious. “I don’t like him; he’s dangerous. Be careful.” He said, his demand sounding more like a threat of his own. Be careful or else, Megumi was implying.

Satoru’s grin waned, realizing he should’ve known better. Megumi had always been unfailingly perceptive.

“It’ll be okay.” Satoru stated, serious this time. “I’m counting on you both to take care of Yuuji-kun for now.”

Finally, Satoru slipped out of Megumi’s room. However, he froze when he saw the light to his room was on and the door was ajar.

Satoru gritted his teeth, going to his bedroom and clicking his tongue when he saw Sukuna browsing the space like an unimpressed patron at a museum.

“What part of ‘stay right there’ was unclear, Sukuna?” Satoru asked in a frigid tone, crossing his arms.

“I got bored,” Sukuna shrugged. “I have no interest in seeing a child’s room, but the bedroom of the ‘Great Detective’ sparked my interest.” He said with a smirk.

“Well, now that you’ve gotten to see the tasteful interior decoration of my private bedroom, let’s go.” Satoru huffed, jerking a thumb at the door.

“It’s a pity. I thought I’d see more of Getou’s belongings still hanging around.” Sukuna remarked, making Satoru stiffen. “You seem like the…sentimental type.” He said, heavy derision on ‘sentimental.’

“Suguru’s got more than enough presence without me needing to keep his shit out,” Satoru said in a clipped tone. “Now, get out.”

“Very well.” Sukuna agreed easily, slinking out of Satoru’s room. The smirk remained on his lips since he’d gotten what he’d wanted: a reaction out of the detective.

“…is he okay?” Satoru asked, following after the yakuza. It was a question that had been plaguing him ever since seeing Sukuna and Yuuji’s states. There must have been a reason Sukuna didn’t go to any of his underlings, but Suguru was more than capable and the fact that Sukuna had still chosen Satoru…

“Oh?” Sukuna purred in amusement. “Are you worried?”

Satoru clicked his tongue. “Fine, don’t tell me.” He shrugged. Internally, he was trying his best to ignore the way his stomach had twisted into knots. Suguru wasn’t dead at least. Sukuna wouldn’t toy with him like this if he were. But concerning if Suguru was injured… that was definitely something Sukuna would keep to himself now that he’d sensed the answer was worth something to Satoru.

Satoru decided to drop it for now, waiting until Sukuna had sat down on the couch before pulling the open first aid kit over.

“Alright, let me see it.” Satoru gestured at Sukuna’s torso.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms instead. “What are you talking about?”

Satoru sighed. “You’ve been favoring your ribs, and the kimono doesn’t do a very good job of hiding where the gashes are. I’m guessing they’re not broken, otherwise you’d be showing it more. And you’ve been keeping your arms hidden, so I know those are injured too.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at Satoru, who simply raised an eyebrow right back at him and just waited. Eye twitching, Sukuna pulled off his scarf before reaching for the sash of his kimono. He slid the top off his shoulders, letting the fabric pool at his waist as he sat shirtless in front of Satoru.

The right side of Sukuna’s chest was varying shades of red and purple, a few spots borderline black. There were also cuts littering his skin, varying in depth and length. The most serious injuries appeared to be the blisters on his forearms, second-degree burns that seemed quite painful.

“Nothing below the belt?” Satoru checked after a moment.

Sukuna gave Satoru a once-over before snorting. “You’re not my type.”

Satoru’s smile was sharp and ticked off. “And you’re not mine. If you wanna bleed out from whatever wounds you’ve got down there just because you’re too embarrassed to show me the fundoshi you’re wearing underneath that showy kimono, that’s fine by me. My obligation is to Yuuji-kun, not you.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Whatever happened to ‘protect and serve?’”

“I’m protecting and serving you just well enough right now.” Satoru muttered, pulling over the backup bowl of water they didn’t use for Yuuji.

He started on Sukuna’s burns, making sure they were thoroughly cleaned and dried before pulling out the antibiotic ointment from the first aid kit. Sukuna hadn’t even winced so far, but he did clench his fists. Satoru was smart enough not to comment. For now, anyway. If Sukuna gave him more lip, he wouldn’t hold back after he was done treating his wounds.

Once Satoru had wrapped Sukuna’s arms, he grabbed the water and towel and started to clean the cuts and abrasions on the yakuza’s broad chest. He steadfastly ignored the smirk on Sukuna’s lips as he worked.

Did Sukuna have an objectively nice body? Maybe. But Satoru had meant it when he said Sukuna was not his type.

Unfortunately, Satoru’s type was one particularly stubborn black-haired fool that left him high and dry to go work under the very man Satoru was currently tending to.

Sukuna’s expression pinched when Satoru finally tended to his nasty-looking bruises, but he still didn’t make a sound. Satoru lowered the towel, carefully pressing his fingers along the smooth lines of Sukuna’s ribs, feeling to see if there were any fractures.

Sukuna snatched Satoru’s wrist, holding it tight as he scowled at the detective.

“I’m just making sure nothing’s broken,” Satoru sighed. “Unless you’d rather miss one and have it pierce your lung when you least expect it.”

Sukuna let go of Satoru. “They’re not broken. Just bruised. And there’s nothing to worry about ‘below the belt’ before you ask again.”

Satoru shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said uncaringly. He bandaged up most of Sukuna’s cuts before pulling out the medical grade thread and a needle for the deepest gash along his side. “Hold still,” he ordered, “I don’t think you want me to mess this part up.”

Sukuna let out a disgruntled exhale that ruffled Satoru’s bangs when he leaned down to get a better angle to start stitching up Sukuna’s wound. To the yakuza’s credit, he didn’t even twitch as he worked, but Satoru did hear him grind his teeth once or twice.

Satoru grabbed the scissors, snipping the thread once he’d tied it off. He placed the needle aside and tossed the spool back into the kit before grabbing the compression wrap he’d used on Yuuji’s ankle.

“Last step.” Satoru said, softer than he’d originally intended. Sukuna may have been impressively stoic throughout the entire ordeal, but it still must’ve hurt pretty bad. “Raise your arms.”

Sukuna sighed, utterly beleaguered, but did as told. Satoru stood, starting to wrap Sukuna’s chest. Once he’d covered the other’s ribs to his liking, he pulled the fabric securely, leaving enough space for breathing room. Sukuna handed Satoru the scissors and tape, clearly eager to get it all over with.

The moment Satoru drew back and began to reorganize the kit and any discarded items, Sukuna pulled the top of his kimono back up.

“So, you care to finally share just what happened tonight that ended up with you and Yuuji-kun injured and at my apartment?” Satoru asked as he handed Sukuna an ibuprofen and the bottle of water he’d given Yuuji earlier.

“No,” Sukuna replied before taking the medicine.

“Didn’t you say you’d tell me what I needed to know once I helped Yuuji-kun?” Satoru reminded with a raised eyebrow.

“You asked if I cared to share. I don’t care,” Sukuna tsked. “I’ll tell you…just not yet.” He stood, barely taking more than two steps before Satoru sighed in aggravation.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“To the one decent bed I’ve seen since I arrived at your little abode.” Sukuna sniffed.

Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. “Neither of us are sleeping in my bed tonight. You’re staying right here on the couch for now.”

“Tch.” Sukuna crossed his arms, stubbornly staying in place.

“You may as well rest for a bit.” Satoru continued, reminding himself he was dealing with a dangerous, wounded criminal and not a churlish toddler. The resemblance was uncanny, though. “Since you still refuse to tell me what’s going on, I’m calling a friend. We’re gonna need his help.” Satoru said, mentally bracing himself for both a verbal and physical refusal from the yakuza.

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at Satoru. He didn’t say a single word, just stared into unblinking blue as he assessed both the detective and the situation.

Finally, Sukuna returned to the couch and sat down, falling into his typical laidback yet regal pose as if Satoru’s couch was his own personal throne.

Satoru clicked his tongue, pulling out his phone. He dialed the last number he’d called, drumming his fingers against his leg as he waited. It didn’t take long for the other to answer.

“What happened?”

“Kento, you’re never going to believe who’s in my house right now.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes at the cheeky expression on Satoru’s face.

“If you say Fushiguro Toji, I am not responsible for the actions I will take against both of you for starting the conversation like this.”

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news!” Satoru laughed. “It’s not Toji. It is Sukuna, though.”

“…”

Satoru pulled his phone from his ear to make sure the call was still connected. “Hello? Kento? You still there?”

“Yes. For a moment, I thought you said that the boss of Tokyo’s most notorious yakuza group was currently in your apartment. But that would be impossible, right? You know better than to be inviting gangsters over this late when you have children at home and an assassin out for your head, don’t you, Gojo-san?”

Satoru didn’t feel afraid very often, but the tone Kento had adopted was one he’d never heard before and he felt a nervous shiver slither down his spine.

Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to make a joke out of the situation.

Whatever, humor was Satoru’s coping mechanism and he was the senior here. Kento didn’t scare him!

“Gojo.”

Satoru sat up straight. “Yes.”

“Yuu and I are coming over. Now.” Kento said with finality. “Answer yes or no: have you contacted the Captain yet?”

“No…” Satoru muttered.

“Fine. We’ll take care of it,” Kento sighed. “What do you need?”

“A car for now. I can explain everything else when you both get here,” Satoru replied dutifully.

“Very well. I’m not even going to bother telling you not to do anything stupid. Just make sure nothing happens to you or the children before we get there.” Kento ordered.

“Yes, Nanami-san.” Satoru huffed. Kento hung up on him, making the white-haired man pout. Satoru glared at Sukuna, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t say it!” he grumbled.

Sukuna snorted, shutting his eyes as he leaned back against the couch, seemingly more interested in getting some brief moments of rest. Satoru knew better than to expect the yakuza was actually planning on sleeping, but at least he wasn’t so stiff anymore.

They’d had their differences, but Satoru didn’t just treat Sukuna’s injuries for the hell of it. There was something about the yakuza that made him feel like a kindred spirit. It was annoying really, because Satoru was petty and he still held a grudge toward Sukuna for getting to keep Suguru by his side for the past two years.

Quietly, Satoru stood and went back to Megumi’s room.

Megumi and Tsumiki both turned with wide eyes when the door opened, shoulders slumping in relief when they saw it was Satoru. Yuuji was still asleep, the even rise and fall of his chest and peaceful expression on his slack face easing some of the tension Satoru felt.

“I told you it’d be fine,” Satoru hummed as he went over to the kids.

“What happened? Did he say why they’re both so beat up?” Tsumiki asked, brow pinched.

Satoru raised his hands. “I’m still working on getting that information. What I came to tell you is that Kento and Yuu are on their way here. I’m going to have them take you three somewhere safe.”

“What about you?” Megumi cut in, frowning. “Why aren’t you coming with us?”

Satoru shook his head. “I need to deal with Sukuna’s situation, and it’ll be best handled as far away from you all as possible.”

“But, Gojo-san, we can’t just leave you—” Tsumiki’s eyes widened.

“That’s not fair—” Megumi began at the same time.

“Yuuji-kun needs you two right now.” Satoru cut in, making the kids’ mouths snap shut as they looked down at the resting pink-haired boy. “I told you, I’m counting on you both to look after him.”

“This isn’t fair.” Megumi repeated, looking down at his lap as he bit his lip.

Satoru sighed, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know, Megumin. That’s just how things are sometimes. But what we’re doing right now? We’re making it so that things can be fair going forward. It hurts more, but it’ll be worth it.”

“If I have time to worry about my regrets,” Tsumiki began quietly, “I’d rather spend it thinking about those that are precious to me.”

Regrets, huh? Satoru thought with a twinge of melancholy, agreeing with Tsumiki’s point. I’ve got more than enough of those.

He smiled, placing his other hand on her head. “Well put, Miki.” He said warmly. “And on that note, with two of my most precious people sitting right here… I was in the middle of telling you something earlier, wasn’t I?”

Satoru cupped both their cheeks, taking in their youthful faces and wide, trusting eyes. He burned the image of his kids into his mind, holding their gazes as he spoke.

“Miki, Megumin… I love you.”

Tsumiki’s breath hitched, and Megumi’s lip wobbled. Both of their eyes went shiny, and Satoru let himself get tugged down by his kids. Tsumiki wrapped her arms around his neck, her face hidden against his collarbone. Megumi’s fists were crumpling the material of Satoru’s shirt, his own face pressed into the detective’s chest just below his sister’s.

“We love you too, Gojo-san.” Tsumiki sniffled. “So much,” she hiccuped.

“How are we supposed to leave you after you say something like that?” Megumi whispered hoarsely, weakly smacking Satoru’s side.

Satoru laughed, the sound wet but no less adoring. “I know, I know… but I just needed you both to hear it from me. It was always implied, you know? Even if I’m not the best when it comes to communicating,” he admitted.

“You’re awful at it,” Megumi agreed with a grumble. “But…you’ve been getting better, I guess.”

“Don’t be so grumpy.” Satoru huffed, tapping Megumi’s nose. “This is a proper heart to heart we’re all having, you know.”

“I’ll bite your finger,” Megumi grouched.

“Miki, please do something about your brother.” Satoru complained.

Tsumiki just laughed, squeezing Megumi and Satoru tighter.

And Satoru? He let them have this. His luck had been a little too good so far, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. He had confidence in himself, there was no mistaking that, but he’d learned the hard way that there were just some things he shouldn’t let go unsaid.

No more wallowing over regrets, he would focus on protecting those precious to him now.

Chapter Text

Kento and Yuu were at Satoru’s apartment not even fifteen minutes after he’d called.

“Good, you’re still alive.” Kento said in lieu of a greeting when Satoru opened the door.

“Kento, your sense of humor both worries and offends me.” Satoru’s brow furrowed as he let the duo in.

“Who said I was joking?” Kento tsked, shooting Satoru a glare. “What else was I supposed to think with you calling in the dead of night telling us there’s a yakuza boss in your house?”

“We were really worried,” Yuu huffed. “You shouldn’t be so flippant about these sort of things.”

Damn, even Yuu was lecturing him.

“Where is he?” Kento demanded.

“Right here.” Sukuna said as he came down the hallway, hands folded into his sleeves and leaning against the wall as if he was the owner of the residence.

“Weren’t you supposed to be resting?” Satoru sighed.

“‘Resting?’” Kento and Yuu repeated incredulously.

“You can stop playing nursemaid now, detective.” Sukuna rolled his eyes.

“Yuu, can I borrow your handcuffs real quick?” Satoru asked with a wide smile that had the brunet backing away as best as he could on his crutch.

“Enough of that, explain what’s going on.” Kento ordered, his patience having finally worn out.

“Yeah, Sukuna, explain what’s going on.” Satoru echoed, crossing his arms as he turned to the pink-haired man.

Sukuna just turned around and went back to the living room.

Kento and Yuu’s gazes fell back onto Satoru. Before he could open his mouth, a very insistent and firm set of knocks sounded at the door. Satoru rolled his eyes, knowing that pattern and refusal to use the doorbell well enough.

“Satoru, what the hell?” Yaga grabbed him as soon as he opened the door, the older man torn between shaking Satoru and trying to check him over.

“Come in first before you assault me,” Satoru grumbled. “My neighbors are gonna have a field day with this…”

“Explain,” all three of the most trusted men—with the exception of one glaringly missing ex-partner of his—in Satoru’s life demanded.

“Sukuna showed up with Yuuji-kun and both of them had a bunch of injuries, so I treated them and while Yuuji-kun is okay for now, he definitely needs a hospital. Sukuna has so far refused to tell me what actually happened tonight and why he showed up at my doorstep for help.” Satoru finally answered. “The plan goes like this: Kento and Yuu will take the kids somewhere safe and make sure Yuuji-kun gets to an actual emergency room. I’ll take Sukuna to one of our safehouses, because obviously, someone’s targeting him and he shouldn’t be let outside just to get killed.”

“And what about backup?” Yaga demanded.

Satoru huffed, sending the older man an exasperated smile. “That’s up to you. You can either come with us and have the protection detail downstairs follow Kento and Yuu, or vise versa.”

“I’m going with you.” Yaga declared immediately, shooting Satoru a look that said he was stupid for suggesting otherwise.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Yuu bit his lip. “You already have so much on your plate already, senpai…”

Satoru clicked his tongue, reaching over to pinch his junior’s cheek. “I know you’re worried, but I’m the senior here. Have some more faith in me. When have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” Satoru held up a finger when Kento opened his mouth. “That was a rhetorical question,” he said quickly.

The blond sighed, turning on his heel and holding out a hand to help Yuu step up from the genkan and enter the hallway. “We’ll go get the kids.”

Yaga was still taking his his shoes off as the duo left, and Satoru leaned over. “Hey, Cap. I’ve got a request I know you’re not gonna like, but I need you to do it anyway.”

Yaga didn’t even say anything; he just let out a tired, questioning grunt. Satoru felt a twinge of pity, knowing it was past the old man’s bedtime. He knew better than to say anything though, lest he wanted to be put into a headlock.

“You have to go in your car and let me and Sukuna ride together.” Satoru said calmly.

Yaga simply turned to stare at him, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed as he demanded an explanation without saying a single word.

“He hasn’t told me anything yet.” Satoru reminded in a low voice. “If I’m going to get any information out of him, it’ll be because we’re alone. So, I’m gonna need you to go by yourself in your car, Cap. Besides, isn’t it protocol to have two vehicles on this kind of escort?”

“None of this has followed protocol, Satoru.” Yaga snapped, rubbing his temple. “Fine, you two go in one car. I’ll follow you. However!” He raised a finger, pointing it at Satoru warningly. “I’m putting it on record that this is a terrible idea and too many things could go wrong.”

“But?” Satoru prompted with wide, innocent eyes. Yaga wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t see some merit to this.

“We don’t need to get on Ryoumen’s bad side right now on top of everything else.” Yaga sighed, lowering his hand. “If the only way to get him to talk is by shoving him into a car with you for a little while, so be it.” He said before letting out an amused snort. “Never thought I’d feel sorry for a criminal.”

Satoru gasped in offense. “I am a delight. Whatever failings I may have are on you for not raising me right,” he sniffed.

Yaga reached for him, and Satoru braced himself for a submission hold. He was surprised when Yaga yanked him down for a hug instead.

“Getting soft in your old age, huh?” Satoru said quietly after a moment. He wrapped an arm back around the other, tone equally as teasing as it was fond.

“Shut up, brat.” Yaga grumbled, holding him for a moment longer before he let him go. “Where are my grandkids?”

Satoru couldn’t help the laugh that left him, chest bubbling with affection at being able to witness Yaga turn into a doting grandfather.

“Down the hall, Gramps.” He pointed, snickering when Yaga huffed something under his breath before turning and stalking down the hallway.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Fifteen minutes later, the kids’ bags were packed, Yoru was fed, and Satoru had left his spare key with a neighbor so she could check in on the little betta fish for the next few days. Currently, Kento was carefully tucking Yuuji into his car as Satoru took Megumi and Tsumiki aside.

“Alright, this is the first time in a couple of weeks that we’re finally not going to be joined at the hip. I know you’ll miss me,” Satoru shook his head mournfully on their behalf. “You two better give Kento a hard time and be good to Yuu.” He instructed, voice loud enough to carry over to the aforementioned duo.

“Why would we do that?” Tsumiki blinked.

“Because Kento was mean to me,” Satoru pouted.

“You probably deserved it,” Megumi muttered.

“Oi, I heard that.” Satoru scowled, pinching Megumi’s squishy cheek. He pulled away before the boy could bite him, sticking his tongue out at the younger.

“Gojo-san,” Tsumiki piped up, “when are we going to see you again?”

The annoyance evaporated from Megumi’s features to make way for poorly concealed worry, and Satoru was quick to give them both a big smile.

“Not too long, I don’t think. It depends on Yuuji-kun’s brother,” he said honestly. He continued when Megumi and Tsumiki’s faces fell, his voice going soft. “In the spirit of a certain young lady’s wise words: don’t worry about what’s happened and just take care of each other… and think about where you wanna go after this because I am definitely putting in for a vacation after this whole mess is over.” He finished with an exaggerated but still very heartfelt groan.

Tsumiki giggled, and even Megumi cracked a smile, so Satoru considered it a win.

“Now then… get going, you two. We don’t have time to waste.” Satoru cleared his throat, pressing his hands against their backs and nudging them toward Kento’s car. “I’ll see you again.”

“Promise?” Megumi asked quietly.

Satoru gave both of them aggressively affectionate hair ruffles. “Promise,” he said. He gave them a wave after they got into the car.

“Don’t worry, senpai. You can count on me and Kento. We’ll die before anything happens to the kids.” Yuu vowed, brown eyes fiery with determination.

“I don’t want any of you to die, Yuu.” Satoru clicked his tongue, bopping the brunet on the head. “But thanks. I owe you two,” he said in a quieter voice.

“Whatever happens, make it home to them.” Kento ordered, staring into Satoru’s eyes.

Satoru cracked a smile, saluting the blond. “Yes, Nanami-san.”

And then, he watched as Kento and Yuu drove his kids away before going back to Yaga and Sukuna.

Sukuna had been watching him, sharp and critical. Satoru had known he was giving himself away, but the moment Sukuna had forced his way into Satoru’s apartment, he’d discovered two of Satoru’s greatest weaknesses anyway. Satoru wasn’t about to let the yakuza’s presence stop him from having a heartfelt moment with his kids.

“No detours, you go straight to the safe house. If you think we’re being tailed, you let me know before you start any evasive maneuvers.” Yaga instructed Satoru, who gave him a sassy little salute. “And you,” Yaga turned to Sukuna, “behave yourself.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed at the captain as the latter went and got in his own car without waiting for a response.

“He’s always like that,” Satoru explained as he clapped Sukuna on the shoulder. “Behave or not, it’s up to you. I can deal with you either way,” he smiled beatifically.

Sukuna bared his teeth at him. “I’m not the one who needs to behave myself, Satoru.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow as Sukuna let himself into the car, but ended up shrugging as he got in too. He had been the one to start using Sukuna’s given name first after all.

“Okay,” Satoru said as he started up the car and locked the doors. “No more waiting. It’s time to pay up for the following: barging in on a very important conversation, scaring my kids, getting Yuuji-kun hurt, and me tending to your wounds. The payment is explaining how exactly you’re related to Yuuji-kun, and what the hell happened that made you come here.”

“And if I refuse?” Sukuna said just to be difficult.

Satoru gave him a sweet smile, eyes crinkling as he began to drive. “Would you really like to find out?” he hummed. “Besides, you have your own sense of responsibility, don’t you? You know I deserve answers after all this, and you did say you were going to tell me. Might as well do it right now since we have plenty of time.”

Sukuna grimaced, and Satoru knew he’d gotten him. The detective could tell that Sukuna was the type of person who hated to owe anyone anything, let alone someone like Satoru who he considered a giant thorn in his side.

“How much do you know about the Ryoumen bloodline?” Sukuna finally spoke.

Satoru didn’t need to try hard to remember. Ryoumen-kai had an interesting if not bloody history. “Ryoumen Ichirou, the previous boss, was your grandfather. His daughter, Ryoumen Mihana, was your mother. Every one of Ryoumen Ichirou’s male heirs—sons, grandsons, and nephews—except for you, died in gang disputes before they could take over the group. You killed a few of them yourself,” he answered.

“Did I?” Sukuna’s smile was sharp enough to cut, and Satoru rolled his eyes at the evasive response. “You’re correct: my mother was the previous head’s daughter. She never disclosed who my father was to protect his identity. This brought her and, by association, myself, disgrace in the group. She couldn’t handle the treatment and killed herself,” he said tonelessly.

Satoru was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “How old were you?”

“Eight,” Sukuna replied without batting a lash.

Satoru couldn’t help the ironic twist of his lips at that. Sukuna’s mouth pursed, expression shutting off, and Satoru shook his head.

“No, I’m not laughing at you. I was just thinking that we have something unexpected in common,” he explained. “Eight years old is a little young to have to grow up, in my opinion.”

Understanding flickered over Sukuna’s face. “The God Killer, Fushiguro Toji.” He stated, watching Satoru’s expression.

The detective smiled wryly. “Bingo.”

Sukuna was silent for a minute before he spoke again. “With the age gap between myself and the brat, I’m sure you figured out we don’t share a mother.” He moved on, and Satoru was grateful not to have to speak more on Toji.

“You both take after your father then?” Satoru asked, noting the shared cherry-blossom pink hue of their hair. He was still internally kicking himself for not making the connection sooner. While there hadn’t been a paper trail between Sukuna and Yuuji, Satoru was still upset that he hadn’t even gotten a hunch.

“My mother never wanted him involved with this life,” Sukuna continued after a beat, “not that it did him much good in the end.”

“You ever get to meet him?” Satoru questioned.

Sukuna grunted. “No. My mother told me his name, but I didn’t try to find him until a few years ago. That’s when I met my paternal grandfather. He told me about how our father disappeared with the brat’s mother and no one had been able to find them since,” he revealed.

Satoru’s brows raised. “I looked into their case briefly when I was checking out Yuuji-kun’s background. The detective who worked it transferred departments a while ago. He was under the impression that they’d eloped to another country.”

Sukuna shrugged. “The old man was convinced his son would never leave the brat behind, and that the brat’s mother did something to him and then fled.”

Satoru stopped at a red light, considering the new information. This was definitely something he was going to look into. It was a relatively recent case but it may as well be a cold one. While it wasn’t their precinct’s, he had enough pull that he could take it if he wanted.

“There was something interesting I noted about Yuuji-kun’s file…” Satoru said quietly, drumming his fingers against the wheel as he glanced at Sukuna through long lashes. “Your grandfather, Itadori Wasuke-san was listed as his guardian after his parents’ disappearance, but between the ages of five to nine, Yuuji-kun had been in foster care before being returned to Itadori-san. The records of why he was in foster care to begin with and how he was released back to Itadori-san were sealed. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Sukuna leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms. “All that fuss about being a great detective, and you couldn’t even figure out that much?”

Satoru had in fact looked into it already. Wasuke had been hospitalized due to cancer when Yuuji was five. The nature of his condition had the courts sending Yuuji off to foster care, where he remained even after Wasuke had officially gone into remission and returned to living by himself. Yuuji had been bounced around between foster homes and a few orphanages, but the only record Satoru couldn’t access was where Yuuji had been placed one month before official documents were signed reinstating Wasuke as his guardian.

“I figured out enough,” Satoru clicked his tongue and began to drive again when the light turned green. “I’m just trying to suss out what you know,” he shrugged.

Sukuna studied him, figuring out that Satoru most likely knew many of the details already, just not sure of which particular bit of info the detective was looking for.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “It involves a touchy subject for you,” he said in a faux sympathetic tone.

Satoru’s lips thinned, knowing that the only thing Sukuna could be referring to was the orphanage he and Suguru had burned down.

“If I say yes, will you actually tell me anything?” Satoru questioned.

Sukuna didn’t answer, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back instead. He was silent for so long that Satoru almost thought he’d fallen asleep on him.

“Our grandfather told me that no matter how hard he tried to track down the brat, no one ever told him where he was. So, he asked me for help.” Sukuna said quietly, eyes still shut.

Ryoumen Sukuna, ruthless yakuza boss with no small number of victims to his name, folding to his little old grandfather’s request so he could find his long lost baby stepbrother.

It sounded like the plot of a Christmas tearjerker. Satoru decided to refrain from commenting on it. He knew just how special the opportunity to be getting information from such a rare source like this was.

“The brat was placed at the Himawari Home.” Sukuna continued, and Satoru wasn’t able to hide the way he swallowed thickly at the name. “I got him back to our grandfather so no more questions would be asked, then I went back the next night and took care of business.”

Satoru took a breath, knowing that he wouldn’t hear what he wanted, but having to try anyway.

“What happened?” He asked. “With Suguru, the workers, the children… you. How did he walk in as a detective and come out as the newest addition to your group?” Satoru tried to keep his tone from becoming too agitated, but the twitch of Sukuna’s lip let him know he’d failed.

It was Suguru’s fault. Satoru could never keep his cool when he was involved. The chain around his neck was starting to feel as constricting as it was grounding, the ring against his sternum heavier than ever.

“Sorry, detective. I promised my precious subordinate not to speak on the specifics of that night.” Sukuna hummed, one eye peeling open to peer at Satoru. He would have almost sounded genuine if it weren’t for the way his canines glinted in a small smirk. “Your Getou likes to keep his secrets. If he hadn’t proved his loyalty, I would’ve gotten rid of him long ago despite his skills.”

Satoru’s fists clenched around the steering wheel. “Yeah, he’s a stubborn bastard. Has to be to keep up with men like you and me,” he huffed. “Well, that leaves the final mystery of what the hell happened tonight that landed you and Yuuji-kun here all banged up.”

Sukuna let out a measured exhale. “I was betrayed.”

Satoru didn’t say anything, but his heart rate picked up. He didn’t know what he was hoping for more: for Suguru to be on Sukuna’s side and hiding away safe somewhere, or for Suguru to be involved somehow and this all to have been some elaborate scheme.

“It was organized by Mahito, Jougo, Hanami, and Dagon. Only a few stayed loyal to me,” Sukuna’s voice went low. “Those who did remained behind to secure my escape. The only reason I left was because I realized they were going after the brat and our grandfather,” he growled. “When I arrived, the old man was already dead and the brat was next.”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru said after a beat. “I never got to meet Itadori-san, but Yuuji-kun spoke fondly of him.” He already knew that Yuuji must’ve been devastated at the loss of his guardian, but even the way Sukuna talked about Wasuke told Satoru that the yakuza had been fond of his and Yuuji’s grandfather in his own way.

“It was Mahito,” Sukuna revealed.

“He’s a cruel one,” Satoru grimaced. “It’s a small blessing that Yuuji-kun wasn’t injured worse…”

“The little punk fled when he realized he was still no match for me,” Sukuna’s nostrils flared. “He won’t remain a free man for much longer. No one gets away from me,” he growled.

Satoru briefly appraised Sukuna’s tensed form and the thunderous shadow over his expression before finally asking:

“So, why did they betray you?”

Sukuna finally looked at Satoru head on, the storm clouds on his face crackling. “Blood ties,” he said.

“What does that mean?” Satoru asked.

Sukuna clicked his tongue. “Our father was a regular Japanese man with an unremarkable family history. The brat’s mother is a different story. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Kamo Family.”

Of course, Satoru knew about the Kamo’s. There had been quite a few of them brought up in Suguru’s files.

“Ryoumen-kai and Kamo-kai were opposing groups for decades until your grandfather, Ryoumen Ichirou, personally ended the rivalry by taking out almost every member of the Kamo bloodline.” Satoru replied easily. “Kamo-kai dissolved and what remained of the family disappeared to different parts of the country.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Not all of them left. Don’t you think it’s strange how every heir to Ryoumen-kai except myself was taken out?”

“You mean, you didn’t kill them?” Satoru raised an eyebrow. “I figured some of them were just luck, but that you were honing your skills and taking out your competition.”

“I didn’t kill them,” Sukuna denied. “My grandfather knew it, too: there was a Kamo in the shadows orchestrating it all. I’ve only met him a few times,” he said. “Slippery bastard.”

Satoru had been turning the information over in his head, knowing there had to be a connection between Sukuna bringing up the Kamo’s after he’d mentioned Yuuji’s parents.

“This was all a roundabout way of saying that Yuuji-kun’s mother was one of the remaining Kamo’s, wasn’t she?” Satoru asked, not beating around the bush any longer.

“Correct,” Sukuna leaned his head back against the seat again. “Somehow, the brat’s Kamo blood and his relation to me were revealed to my people. That was when they began to plot against me. They thought I made a deal with the Kamo who’d taken out the other Ryoumen heirs. As if I’d need to do such a thing,” he spat. “They doubted my honor and refused to hear otherwise. It doesn’t matter if they beg for forgiveness now. The one thing I do not tolerate is disrespect,” he snarled.

“No,” Satoru smiled wryly, “you’re more than capable of taking care of things by yourself, aren’t you?”

Sukuna’s incensed expression made way for a sharp smile. “Quite,” he agreed. “You’ve got your answers, detective. Are you satisfied now?”

Satoru chuckled, the sound growing until it became a laugh. “Satisfied? Never. I’m a greedy man,” he grinned. Kento considered it one of his faults, but Suguru had always liked that about Satoru.

Sukuna’s smile grew, a chuckle of his own escaping him. “It seems we have something else in common,” he remarked.

“I’m curious about one more thing,” Satoru admitted with a hum. “Who stayed loyal to you?”

Sukuna propped his cheek against his fist, looking out the window. “Uraume and Yorozu,” he replied.

Uraume, as far as Satoru knew, was Sukuna’s personal chef and also his right hand. If Sukuna needed something done, Uraume handled it. Meanwhile, Yorozu was a formidable assassin. The truly dangerous thing about her was her fickle nature that was on par with Sukuna’s own. Her code of morals relied solely upon Sukuna.

It was no surprise to Satoru that they remained loyal to Sukuna.

The fact that the yakuza hadn’t brought up Suguru made Satoru’s stomach churn, unsure how to feel about the possibility that Suguru had betrayed Sukuna.

“Your charade that you don’t care about Getou is pathetic,” Sukuna clicked his tongue. “I don’t know who you’re trying to fool, but it’s a wonder why you even bother.”

Satoru frowned. “Now you bring him up?” he huffed. “We were partners, Sukuna. Whatever you think you’re seeing is just my ‘sentimentality’ for something long dead.”

Sukuna scoffed. “I thought detectives were supposed to be better liars than that.”

Satoru snorted. “Suguru was always the better liar between the two of us, which I’m sure you’ve gotten to see firsthand for yourself.”

Sukuna studied him, gaze burning a hole into Satoru’s profile before he finally spoke after a long, weighted moment.

“Getou was the only other person who did not betray me. He stayed behind with Uraume and Yorozu,” he revealed. “If they’re still alive, they’ll contact me.”

The knot in Satoru’s gut unwound, and he hated that he felt so relieved. Especially since he knew Sukuna would be able to tell just how much the information affected him.

“Well, look at that. We’re already here.” Satoru cleared his throat as they pulled up to the nondescript little two story that was to be their safe house for now.

Sukuna’s nose wrinkled at the homely building. “They took the term safe house too literally,” he tsked.

“Yeah, yeah, it works for now.” Satoru said dismissively as they both got out of the car.

Yaga pulled up just behind them. He was talking on the phone with someone, looking irate as he tossed the keys over to Satoru. The older man waved them on ahead, so Satoru unlocked the front door and let himself and Sukuna inside.

“I need some fucking food…” Sukuna grumbled, heading off in search of the kitchen.

Satoru chose to collapse onto the first piece of furniture he saw: an armchair that had a vantage point of the front entrance and foyer. He draped his arms over the sides, long legs splayed out in front of him as he leaned his head against the back of the chair and shut his eyes.

He was exhausted. It wouldn’t be much, but even five minutes would do at this point.

The front door opened and closed with a click, and he called out to Yaga without bothering to open his eyes.

“Who was that on the phone? You usually only look that pissed when you’re dealing with the public safety commission.”

There was no answer, and Satoru frowned, raising his head so he could glance over to see what was wrong.

There was no one there.

Satoru’s blood ran cold, immediately realizing there was something amiss. He didn’t waste time, reaching for his gun.

A blade pressed against his throat, using just enough pressure to nick a small cut into his skin.

Satoru exhaled very, very carefully. “So, you finally decided to show up, huh?” he murmured.

Hot breath puffed against the shell of his ear, and then:

“You kept me waiting long enough, pretty boy.”

Chapter Text

“Wake up.”

Satoru scrunched his nose, eyelids feeling too heavy to open. His head was pounding, the source of the throbbing coming sharp and pronounced from the back of his head. He tried to raise his hands, not quite sure if he wanted to scrub at his eyes or dig the heels of his palms into them. However, he quickly realized that he couldn’t do either, finding it hard to breathe instead.

“Satoru. Open your eyes.”

The detective groaned, managing to unstick his lids enough to obey. His vision was blurry at first, but he managed to blink some clarity back into it. He raised his aching head, seeing that he was tied to a chair. His ankles were bound against the legs of the chair, and there was another rope that looped around his neck and connected to his wrists that were tied behind his back. When he tried to move his hands again, the rope around his neck tightened and made him gasp.

Satoru carefully turned his head, surveying the room he was in. It appeared to be a basement, made of brick and concrete with only a single, flickering tube light and a rickety set of stairs. It was bare except for three chairs; Satoru and Sukuna were occupying two of the aforementioned chairs.

Sukuna was also bound, except he had shackles around his wrists, a heavy wrought of iron chains connecting them to the restraints at his ankles.

“About time you came to,” Sukuna sneered. “Enjoy your nap?”

Satoru glared at the yakuza. “First of all…” he began in a rasp, brow furrowing at how crackly his voice came out. He cleared his throat, trying again. “I was knocked out by a blow to the head,” he reminded petulantly. “You’re lucky I don’t have a concussion. Which, I still could. I can’t tell yet. So far, there’s only one of you.” He muttered.

“Tch, he used a drug on me.” Sukuna grumbled. “We were alone when I woke up. He’ll be coming back any minute now that we’re both conscious.” He narrowed his eyes at Satoru. “And you, you knew that he was the one framing me for the murders and you didn’t say shit.”

“Oh yeah, because telling the notorious criminal known for his brutal execution methods the identity of the person setting him up for a series of murders would’ve been such a smart decision on my part.” Satoru snarked, wincing a little when he moved his head too quickly. “I’m trying to arrest Toji, not have him chopped into little pieces.”

Sukuna bared his teeth at him. “There is no need to try to arrest him, detective. I will deal with him myself.”

Satoru let out a breath, sweeping his gaze around the room once more. The fact that Yaga wasn’t there with them both relieved and worried him. Had Toji slipped in under the captain’s nose to take him and Sukuna? Or had he dealt with Yaga first…?

“I know he wants to kill me, but I wonder why he took you.” Satoru mused aloud. “I’m guessing he didn’t say before he incapacitated you?”

“No,” Sukuna confirmed through gritted teeth, “he did not.”

Both of them went still when they heard a door open, turning to the stairs. A shadow casted over the steps, growing longer and longer as the newcomer leisurely made his way down.

Toji had managed to maintain his muscle mass in prison, still as big and powerful looking as the last time Satoru had seen him. What was new were the tattoos on his arms and the freshly lit cigarette perched between his lips. He had a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, and Satoru recognized the handle of the blade strapped to his back.

The Inverted Spear of Heaven should have been in evidence. Instead, it was with Toji. All this confirmed was that Toji did have inside connections to law enforcement, a fact that did little to ease Satoru’s worries.

“You couldn’t have come up with a less suspenseful way for us to meet?” Satoru raised a brow, attempting to remain casual.

“You’re not the type to like plain reunions.” Toji shrugged, pulling up the chair next to Satoru and letting out a wisp of smoke into the detective’s face. “Everyone in the room knows about your flair for the dramatic.”

Sukuna snorted, obviously agreeing, but the cold, murderous look in his eyes as he gazed at Toji wasn’t to be taken lightly.

“We know why he’s here,” Sukuna jerked his chin at Satoru, “but what do you want with me, God Killer?”

Toji leaned back in his chair, crossing a leg over his knee. “I’ve been paid to kill you,” he answered impassively before turning to Satoru. “And you, I’m doing for free. You owe me, pretty boy.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” Satoru snapped. He knew better than to let his anger get the best of him, but he just couldn’t keep a lid on it with Toji sitting so nonchalantly in front of him.

Toji raised his leg, slamming his foot down against the edge of Satoru’s seat and pushing it so that Satoru’s chair was balancing precariously on the back two legs. The detective had instinctively flexed his hands out at the aborted fall, grunting as the action tightened the rope around his neck.

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree,” Toji said as he took a drag of his cigarette. He kicked at Satoru’s chair, letting it slam back solidly on all fours.

“W–What… is with you…” Satoru panted out, barely managing to swallow, “and ch–choking?”

Toji smirked. “Have you ever considered that you just have a snappable neck?” he said condescendingly.

There’s something I’d like to snap off him, alright… Satoru thought as he glared at the black-haired man.

“If you’re planning on killing us both anyway,” Sukuna drawled, “do me a favor and take care of this guy first. I would’ve liked to be the one to shut him up myself, but I can settle for just watching.”

“You dick.” Satoru growled, finally having gotten his breath back. Granted, one night of good deeds wouldn’t erase his antagonistic history with Sukuna, and maybe Satoru never did himself any favors by provoking his enemies, but he was still allowed to be affronted.

“You like to watch, huh?” Toji smirked right back at Sukuna. “Fine by me. It’s not like either of you are going anywhere.”

For once, Satoru hoped Sukuna had some sort of nefarious plan up his sleeve to free himself and subdue Toji. However, he wouldn’t put it past the yakuza to just sit back and enjoy the show as Toji did… whatever he was planning to do.

Satoru had the feeling it was going to be painful at the least and excruciating at the most.

He took a steadying breath, finally asking the question that had been plaguing him. “What did you to my Captain?”

“Don’t worry. His chances of living are equal to dying.” Toji assured, serving to do just the opposite.

Satoru’s fists clenched involuntarily, and he was just barely able to keep from inadvertently choking himself again. For now, he had to believe in Yaga’s stubbornness channeling into a will to live.

Toji pulled out his dagger, and Satoru stared at it warily, unable to help the way he stiffened at the sight of it in all its glory.

And then, Toji stabbed Satoru thrice in the thigh in rapid succession, wrenching a strangled scream from him.

“Answers aren’t free,” Toji informed him as he smirked lazily around his cigarette. “Everything you ask has a price.”

“Th–Thanks for letting…me know…” Satoru ground out, glaring at Toji through the pain.

Toji leaned closer, squinting at him. He tilted Satoru’s face to the side with his dagger, smearing some blood on his cheek as he inspected it. “Oh? Someone else got to you first, huh?” he commented.

“Yeah…” Satoru panted, “an old woman…who hits h–hits harder than… you.”

Predictably, Toji backhanded Satoru for the remark, striking the same bruised side of his face. The blow had Satoru’s teeth cut into the inside of his cheek, the tang of iron flooding his tongue.

Sukuna whistled.

“My turn to ask a question. Though, I already know you won’t answer.” Toji said, studying Satoru’s expression. “Where are they?”

There was no need to clarify who he was talking about, and Satoru just grinned tauntingly, teeth pink with a mix of blood and saliva.

“You’re supposed to be… good at tracking…” he cooed. “Use your special skills,” he continued with a cold, shaky laugh, “because you’re not… getting shit from me…”

Satoru took comfort in the fact that if there was only one thing he’d done right, it was ensuring that Toji hadn’t been able to make contact with Megumi or Tsumiki again. The playground scare had been bad enough.

“Oh, I’ll find them. With or without your help.” Toji promised, blowing another puff of smoke into Satoru’s face so he could watch him struggle not to cough. “They’ll have to wait just a little longer, though. I have plans to deal with someone else before I go and collect my kids.”

Satoru’s grin inverted within the span of a second, and he glowered at Toji. “Stay away from him,” he snarled. “Stay away from all of them.”

“You didn’t think I’d forgotten about your little partner, did you?” Toji raised an eyebrow, looking amused at how Satoru bristled at the mention of Suguru. “His history with me may not be as extensive as yours and mine, but he’s still equally as responsible for locking me up.”

It was ironic how the mere threat of Toji going after Suguru had Satoru swallowing back his original intention of arresting him.

“Touch him…” Satoru said darkly, “and you’re dead.”

Toji laughed, loud and deep from within his chest, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye as he shook his head.

“I already know I’m a dead man walking,” Toji managed to say, still chuckling, “but if anyone’s going to kill me… it ain’t gonna be you, pretty boy. I’m gonna bury you myself,” he stated.

Satoru had finally managed to get his breathing back under control, and Toji’s response had him grimacing. “I’m flattered, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

“Hate to say it, but you are special.” Toji shrugged as he took another drag of his cigarette. “Your parents were my first big score, you put me in jail, you took my kids, and…” he listed off before his lips thinned. “All these years of operating in the shadows, the only person to ever notice me was you—at eight years old. I took that personally.”

It was Satoru’s turn to laugh, but there was no mirth in it, nearly hysterical. “You creep. All this because I managed to get a look at you?”

Toji raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you learn the lesson my client and I taught you? Little things have big consequences.”

“Imagine what the consequences for big things are,” Satoru replied coldly. “You keep talking about debts and collecting your dues. Just think about everything you owe me, Toji.”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking alright. All I could do was think.” Toji replied, eyes darkening as his expression finally showed the first hint of anything other than apathy or amusement. The murderous rage Toji had shown Satoru all those years ago finally reared its head, still on a tight leash but there all the same.

“Have you considered getting an actual hobby?” Satoru said flatly, ignoring the way his entire body was tense, every instinct in him screaming at him that he needed to be as far away from Toji as possible.

The only thing Satoru could do was rely on his mind. He had to stay calm and figure a way out of this. If he kept letting himself get swayed by Toji’s presence let alone the assassin’s attempts at getting a reaction out of him, Satoru really was as good as dead.

Which, Satoru was prepared for. What Satoru wasn’t going to let happen were the consequences that would result from his death: Toji going after Suguru and the kids—going to hurt the people that Satoru loved because he wasn’t there to stop him.

In order to come up with a plan, Satoru had to buy time.

“So, how’d you pick them?” Satoru asked, knowing exactly what he was inviting to happen by doing so. “Your victims while you were setting up Sukuna? What criteria did they meet that made them targets?”

Satoru didn’t have to be looking over to see if the yakuza was paying attention. Sukuna had been watching them with rapt interest from the beginning, and Satoru was sure if he could, Sukuna would be munching on popcorn as if he was watching a damn movie.

“The first one was to whet your interest and establish bias towards him.” Toji answered, gesturing to Sukuna with his cigarette, flicking some of the ash off the tip before bringing it back to his lips. “The cops were to incense law enforcement and create discourse within Ryoumen-kai, but there was another reason I chose them.” He smiled, the scar on his mouth dancing as he did. “I saw a pair of partners pining after each other and couldn’t help myself. So, if anything, their deaths are on you and your little ex.”

It was bullshit and Satoru knew it, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a stab of guilt straight to the gut anyway.

“You’re fucked in the head,” Satoru smiled sweetly right back at Toji.

“Pot meet kettle…” Sukuna scoffed, but both Satoru and Toji ignored him.

“I had some more good choices lined up, but how could I ignore you two practically serving yourselves up on a silver platter?” Toji clicked his tongue. “I’ve always been an opportunist, after all.”

“If ‘opportunist’ is another way of saying ‘greedy bastard,’ sure.” Satoru said as he rolled his eyes.

Toji chose not to reply to the statement. He leaned forward once more, laying the flat of his blade against the top button of Satoru’s shirt. With a flick of his wrist, the button was cut off and sent clattering to the floor.

Both of them were silent as Toji kept going, slowly parting Satoru’s shirt open, not stopping until he reached the waistband of his pants. Toji changed course, trailing back up to where Satoru’s ring rested against his chest, using the tip of his dagger to lift it up so he could study it.

“Family heirloom.” Satoru said after a beat, keeping his expression neutral despite the way his heart was in his throat. The last thing he needed was for Toji to realize exactly what the ring meant to him. “I wouldn’t expect you to remember it. You were too busy shooting my mother in the head.”

Toji’s gaze swept from the ring to Satoru, lips quirking. “Oh, I remember it. My memory’s good when it comes to expensive things,” he replied.

Despite having had his shirt cut open, Satoru only felt naked after Toji ripped the chain from his neck. He watched helplessly as Toji pocketed the ring, the one piece of his parents and Suguru that he’d allowed himself to keep stolen away right in front of him.

“Don’t worry,” Toji chuckled, “I’ll make sure to take Getou’s too and keep the set together.” He rolled his eyes when Satoru twitched. “If you were trying to be subtle, you shouldn’t have worn matching chains.”

The knowledge that Suguru still wore his own ring after all these years had Satoru’s heart soar and then immediately plummet.

Idiot, Satoru thought as his fists clenched. But if he’s an idiot, what does that make me?

“Well, since you two like to match so much…” Toji drawled, tapping his dagger against the scar he’d left on Satoru’s chest. “Why don’t I finish your half?”

Knowing it was coming was the only reason Satoru was able to contain the cry that threatened to burst from his throat when Toji began to slice him open.

It wasn’t as deep as the first scar he’d left, but he took his time with it. Satoru teeth cut into his lip, biting it bloody because he refused to let out a single sound. It was a struggle on its own to keep his head upright, the rope around his neck tightening and loosening with every little thrash of his bound hands.

Satoru finally released his lip and let out a shaking exhale when Toji finished. He’d made a slash that was diagonal to Satoru’s first scar, marking an “X” on his chest just like Suguru’s.

 “What do you think?” Toji questioned Sukuna, raising an eyebrow. “Close enough?”

Sukuna snorted. “You made them a matching set alright.”

The knowledge that Sukuna had seen Suguru’s scar and therefore seen Suguru shirtless did not help Satoru’s already fraying mental state.

Suddenly, a phone rang.

Toji paused, pulling out a small flip phone and checking the number. His lips twitched into a smile when he saw who it was. He stabbed the Inverted Spear of Heaven into the seat of Satoru’s chair, right between his spread thighs.

“Look after this for me.” Toji said as he got up, stretching idly as he began to make his way up the stairs. “What do you got?” He answered his phone, shutting the door to the basement before Satoru could catch anything else.

Satoru glared at the dagger, knowing Toji had specifically placed it to taunt him by having it so close yet unable to use it to try to free himself.

“He really hates your guts.” Sukuna remarked idly, shackles clinking as he shifted in his seat. “Impressive considering what I’ve heard about the God Killer’s relatively passive nature. Then again, you just seem to bring that out in others, don’t you?”

Satoru rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear it from the guy who’s also chained up. You think you got a hit put out on you by accident?”

Sukuna scoffed. “I’m the head of Ryoumen-kai. Fools have come after me simply for my title alone.”

Satoru was silent for a few moments before he spoke. “This feels more personal than just another shot at your head, and I’m sure you know that my hunches are usually never wrong.”

It was Sukuna’s turn to fall quiet. Then: “I don’t like being in agreement with you,” he muttered. “It’s annoying.”

Satoru snorted, shutting his eyes. He took stock of his situation once more: there was no way for him to escape his bindings, he’d mostly gotten his movements under control so he was no longer strangling himself by accident, but what worried him was the blood loss from the knife wounds. The pain was something he was able to mostly block out, but that would mean nothing if he bled out past the point of saving.

He knew that there was a fair chance he wasn’t going to make it out of this, and he felt a momentary pang of regret at the possibility of breaking his promise to Megumi.

“If I have time to worry about my regrets, I’d rather spend it thinking about those that are precious to me.”

How could Satoru have forgotten? This was the exact scenario when he should be focusing what was important and not on the what-if’s.

“Oi, Sukuna…” Satoru called, receiving a questioning grunt from the yakuza. “What’s Yuuji-kun to you?” He asked, looking over at the other with a searching gaze.

Sukuna realized what he was getting at, mouth pursing as he stared back at the detective, vexed and disgruntled.

“A liability,” Sukuna grumbled. “He’s worse than a dog, because at least they listen. He’s weak and his attachments are going to keep getting him in over his head.”

“He’s twelve years old,” Satoru reminded in an exasperated tone. “And he’s a good kid, eager to please and sweet. That just means there’s a problem with you if he doesn’t listen,” he clicked his tongue. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Sukuna gave Satoru a smirk that was all teeth. “And what pound of flesh are you offering me for my answer, Satoru?” he purred.

“You want it?” Satoru bared his teeth in a returning grin, sharp and challenging. “Come take it.”

Sukuna held his gaze for a moment longer before he let out a sigh. “This is getting old,” he said. “The next time he walks back in here, he will kill you and there’s not a single thing you can do to save yourself.”

Satoru breathed in, deep and grounding. “You think I haven’t come to terms with the direness of the situation?” he replied in a calm tone. “Even if I don’t have a plan, you never know what’s going to happen.”

“If you’re expecting your friends to come bursting in and rescue you, you’re more delusional than I originally thought.” Sukuna wrinkled his nose.

Satoru laughed, staring down at the dagger stuck between his legs. “Yuuji-kun’s a good kid,” he said, suddenly echoing his statement from earlier. “And my kids are attached to him. They’re going to look after him no matter what. So, like it or not, Megumi and Tsumiki are a part of Yuuji-kun’s life. I’m going to protect that bond, Sukuna. No matter what, no one is allowed to hurt those kids.”

Satoru met Sukuna’s gaze, blue eyes glowing with a fierce protectiveness unlike anything the yakuza had seen before. It was unnerving.

“Do you understand?” Satoru asked, voice low and steely.

Sukuna stared back at the detective, brow furrowed as he slowly nodded.

Satoru slumped as best he could in his restrained position. “Great. I’m going to pass out now.”

“Oi!” Sukuna snapped, but it was already too late: Satoru’s eyes slipped shut and his head tipped back.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Something was tapping his cheek, insistent and rough.

Satoru groaned under his breath, trying to turn away but gasping when the rope around his neck tightened.

Awareness crashed over him like a wave, the memory of the situation he was in returning swiftly as he opened his eyes.

Toji was leaning over him, hand posed to smack his cheek again but he stopped when he saw that Satoru was finally awake.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.” Toji snorted at the dazed glare Satoru sent him. “I’ve got some special news to share with you.”

“Oh, goodie…” Satoru mumbled, wincing as the pain he’d managed to ignore from his wounds came back in full force.

“There’s been a change of plans… I know where they are, Satoru.” Toji drawled, both the grin that split over his face and his words sending a shudder down Satoru’s spine.

The detective’s glare sharpened, a growl low in his throat as he spoke. “You’ll never touch them. I have faith in Kento and Yuu.”

Toji shrugged, his grin making way for a benevolent expression. It was a strange sight combined with his scar and the cigarette tucked between his lips. “All bark and no bite, pretty boy. I’ll let you have another question,” he allowed.

“How kind of you,” Satoru retorted with no small amount of sarcasm.

“If you don’t have one, we can move on straight to the finale.” Toji tutted, reaching between Satoru’s thighs to grab the handle of his dagger.

Satoru said the first thing that came to mind: “The worms!” he blurted. “What is with the damn worms?”

Toji paused, the smile returning to his face as he let go of the hilt. “Oh?” he purred. “Interesting that’s what you choose to ask about.”

“I’m an enigma,” Satoru said flatly. “You gonna answer or what?”

“Are you that eager for what comes after?” Toji raised an eyebrow.

“Your obsession with worms is the one thing no one’s been able to figure out,” Satoru admitted reluctantly.

“What’s your theory, detective?” Toji questioned as he plopped down into his earlier seat, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Worms could be considered a sign of mortality.” Satoru replied, gauging Toji’s expression for how close he was to the right answer. “They eat the dead. It’s your way of mocking the people you killed,” he grimaced.

Toji whistled. “I’d clap if I could use both hands,” he said. “Tell me, pretty boy: you ever eaten dirt?” he suddenly asked.

Satoru looked at him warily. “Is that supposed to be a figure of speech, or…?”

Toji clicked his tongue. “Course you haven’t,” he said. “Let me let you in on a secret: it tastes like shit.” He revealed, making Satoru’s brows raise into his hairline. “You keep talking about protecting the kids, but what you seem to have forgotten is that kids can be crueler than adults.” His eyes darkened.

Finally, Satoru realized what he was referring to. “Your family abused you, so you became obsessed with worms?” he asked slowly.

Toji propped his cheek against his fist, his pose casual but Satoru knew better. Childhood trauma like what Toji went through wasn’t just something the other man could’ve gotten over that easily.

“No amount of money or status can protect someone when they look down on guys like me as nothing better than a worm beneath their feet.” Toji said, the look in his eye going from dull to dangerously wild. “What do riches mean when they’re dead? By that point, they’ve just become food for the same bastards they fucked over all their lives. So, who really wins in the end?”

Satoru just stared at Toji, lips pursed as he considered his response. Finally, he let out a little exhale, preparing himself for whatever was going to happen once he’d replied.

“No one.” Satoru said slowly, the barest hint of pity bleeding through because he’d finally understood that Toji could never change—he had never quite grown up from being the damaged little boy his family had chewed up and spat out. “No one wins like this, Toji, not even you.”

Toji’s brow pinched, mouth slanting deeply as he bristled under Satoru’s gaze. “Don’t look at me like that,” he demanded. “You still think you have any room to talk like that?”

Satoru let out a dry chuckle. “That’s all I have the room to do right now, in case you’ve forgotten the position you put me in.”

Toji stood, looming over Satoru as he stared him down. This was literally a predicament from his nightmares that normally had Satoru waking up in arrested terror.

But right now? Satoru wasn’t afraid.

There had been a realization that lingered in the back of his mind ever since he’d woken up in the basement: Satoru had nowhere to go. He had no moves left. This wasn’t just check; it was checkmate.

All Satoru felt was calm. There was no panic or heart-pounding adrenaline. It was a distinct contrast to the last time he’d been at Toji’s mercy. It was almost laughable how easily Satoru had come to terms with everything. He’d chalk it up to deliriousness from blood loss if he didn't know better.

Because while Toji was still stuck by the chains of his past, Satoru had finally let go of his own anger. He would never forgive him for everything he’d done, but he’d stopped hating him. No matter what Toji did to Satoru now, he no longer had the ability to affect him.

There was a special kind of power he felt in denying Toji the reactions he wanted.

Toji tsked, kicking Satoru’s chair so that it was tipped back on its hind legs. Toji’s foot was the only thing keeping Satoru from falling over. It was the least of his concerns. Being suspended like this had Satoru’s wrists straining and pulling the rope around his throat taut.

“I really hate those eyes of yours.” Toji huffed, plucking the cigarette from his lips as he held it over Satoru’s face. “Not like you’ll be needing those anymore anyway.”

Satoru let out a wheezy chuckle, lips quirking despite the position he was in. He didn’t need to say a single word.

Toji’s expression darkened, looking even more irked at the detective’s reaction. “It’s a shame,” he sighed in disappointment. “I wanted to see you beg for your life.”

“O–Only in…” Satoru struggled to gasp out, “your d–dreams… creep.”

Toji only brought the cigarette closer to his eye, Satoru’s pupil contracting as the blooming orange end grew nearer, stomach clenching as he felt the searing heat only centimeters from his delicate cornea.

At least I got to tell the kids… Satoru thought, head pounding and vision flickering. And Suguru… he knows.

Just as Satoru felt himself slipping away, the door to the basement banged open. Toji glanced over at the stairs, eyes narrowing at the newcomer.

Satoru was barely able to breathe, hanging onto consciousness by a thread. He had no capacity to turn his head and see who had just come in.

“Fushiguro.”

Satoru’s body had a physical reaction to the voice alone: his heart—racing like crazy—began to slow and settle, his lungs—struggling to take in air—managed to eke in just a little more oxygen, and his muscles—trembling and tense—began to slacken and relax.

His very soul recognized him. There was no mistaking it. He’d come for him.

“Get your filthy hands off my husband.”

Chapter Text

“Get your filthy hands off my husband.”

Husband.

Suguru—that beautiful, arrogant, godsent menace of a man—still considered Satoru his.

Satoru’s second realization was that this wasn’t a hallucination induced from a lack of oxygen.

Suguru was really there.

The last of Satoru’s strength sapped away, and he blacked out cursing his body for failing him before he could even look at Suguru.

When Satoru opened his eyes, he was knocked over on the ground, still tied to the chair.

Suguru and Toji were grappling in front of him, a gun just barely out of both of their reaches as they fought to get to it.

Toji grabbed Suguru by the hair, slamming his head into the concrete. Suguru retaliated by driving his fist into Toji’s side where his kidney was.

Behind them, Yorozu and Uraume were both working on freeing Sukuna from his bonds. Yorozu finished first, the shackles on Sukuna’s ankles clattering to the floor.

Satoru lost consciousness just as he saw Yorozu raise up a knife, aiming at Toji’s back.

The next time Satoru woke up, he was being carried. One of his arms was slung around strong shoulders and the other was swinging limply in the air. The rest of him was being supported by an arm around his back and another under his knees. Being carried like this was… oddly nostalgic. It’d been so long since Satoru was the one being held that he’d almost forgotten what it had felt like.

Something brushed against his nose, making him scrunch it at the ticklish sensation before he finally processed the scent of green tea and vetiver.

Suguru.

Satoru managed to open his eyes, peering blearily up at the other. There were bruises along his jaw and temple, his lip was busted open and still oozing blood. His hair was in a messy disarray, and the errant strands that had spilled over his shoulder were the cause of Satoru’s itchy nose.

“S–Su…” Satoru rasped inaudibly, hating that he couldn’t even finish saying the other’s name. “Su–Sugu…” He tried again, voice cracking but loud enough for Suguru to hear him this time.

Suguru stopped in his tracks, looking down at Satoru with wide eyes as his mouth parted, gaze tracing over Satoru’s face in hopeful disbelief.

“Satoru…” Suguru breathed, cradling Satoru even closer to his chest as he curled over him, touching their foreheads together. “Satoru.” He repeated, as if nothing else was allowed to slip from his lips. Satoru’s name was the only thing that Suguru needed to say, because Satoru was the only thing that mattered.

“S–Suguru…” Satoru finally managed to crumple out, unsure of what expression he was making as he weakly grasped the back of the other’s shirt.

Whatever showed on his face must’ve resonated with Suguru, because he laid the briefest, most delicate kiss on the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Satoru was barely able to lean into the feeling of Suguru’s lips against his skin before the other was shifting him in his arms and moving forward with renewed vigor.

“It’s okay.” Suguru murmured, glancing down at Satoru with warm eyes. It was the same warmth he’d shown him at their last meeting before Satoru had shut him down. Back then, Satoru had barely handled it even with his guard up, so it was no surprise now that he fell apart like wet paper in the protective cradle of Suguru’s arms.

“‘m t–tired…” he mumbled, shoving his face into Suguru’s shoulder. He breathed him in, shuddering on his next exhale.

“I know.” Suguru soothed, voice so gentle and understanding that it made Satoru’s face go hot and his eyes leak, dampening the material of Suguru’s shirt where he’d pressed his face. “Just rest, Satoru. I’ve got you.”

Satoru nodded minutely, knowing that for now, regardless of what the situation was… Suguru would take care of things—take care of him.

Letting go and handing the reins over to Suguru was so easy, as if the two years of silence and heartache and grief between them had never existed in the first place.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

It wasn’t that those things had never existed, they just didn’t matter now. What Satoru and Suguru had ran deeper than the wedge that had driven them apart.

Satoru let himself be pulled back into dreamlessness, lulled by Suguru’s solid, grounding presence.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

When Satoru awoke in his hospital room, he was alone.

He stared down at his body, taking in the not-so-unfamiliar sight of bandages on his chest. When he peeked under his blanket, he saw that his thigh was similarly wrapped up. He sighed, raising the bed so that he was sitting up before he reached over to hit the call button. He grabbed some water, making sure to drink slowly as he massaged his bruised throat.

Satoru looked around at the empty room once more, seeing another bed. The sheets were rumpled, so he knew that meant there was supposed to be another occupant.

The last time Satoru had woken up after an ordeal with Toji, Suguru had been by his side. This time, there was no one.

He chewed on his straw, wondering where everyone was. The kids should’ve been alright; they had to be. Kento and Yuu, he was unsure about. As for Yaga… he had to believe that the older man had survived. Satoru didn’t even want to consider any other possibility, because that would’ve meant he’d lost the only other parent he’d ever known to Toji.

And then, there was the matter of Suguru.

Satoru didn’t know why he was surprised that the other wasn’t there. Of course, Suguru wouldn’t have let Satoru die, but to stay by his side after everything? They were both at a point where that wasn’t possible for them anymore.

Satoru knew that well enough, but it didn’t stop him from aching regardless. It was a sharper pain, fresh and smarting even more since Satoru hadn’t just seen Suguru, but he’d gotten to be close to him after all this time. Even the kiss that wasn’t quite a kiss had his skin tingling, and he raised a hand to touch the corner of his mouth.

A nurse walked in, blinking when she saw that he was up. Satoru gave her a grin, waving with a cheerfulness he was hoping he would eventually feel.

“Morning,” he greeted.

“It’s…four P.M.,” the nurse said slowly.

Satoru shrugged. “It’s not like there’s a clock in here for me to be able to tell.”

“Right,” the nurse nodded. “Well, let me take your vitals and then go get your doctor.”

“Be gentle.” Satoru requested as he set his cup down and let the nurse start checking him over. “I was worked over by a man who was twice my size and very unhappy with me.”

The nurse shot him a look. “Well, I hope you don’t mind me saying that you’re far from delicate. Considering the amount of blood you lost and all of the stitches you required, the fact that you’re already awake two days later is a feat.”

“Neat, I beat my old record by three days.” Satoru hummed.

The nurse didn’t reply to the statement, quickly wrapping up her check of Satoru’s vitals.

“You’re stable and recovering well based on these readings, but the doctor will tell you for sure.” The nurse said, heading for the door.

“Wait,” Satoru called, “who else is assigned to this room?”

The nurse opened her mouth, about to reply, but she turned, peeking out the hallway. “He’s coming back now. I’ll go get the doctor.” She said, slipping out.

A moment later, Kento rolled Yaga into the room in a wheelchair.

“—a stab to the gut, I’ve had worse.” Yaga was grumbling. “Don’t need to be wheeled around.”

“The doctor specifically said no strenuous activity,” Kento sighed. “You’re lucky he didn’t actually nick any of your organs, Captain.”

“When’s it my turn to push him around?” Satoru questioned brightly, making both of the men look over at him in surprise.

Wordlessly, Kento brought Yaga over to Satoru’s bedside before he took a step back.

“You’re definitely not getting a turn,” Yaga answered gruffly. “I don’t trust you not to send me careening into someone.”

Satoru pouted. “I would not,” he denied. After a moment of Yaga’s unimpressed staring, he folded. “Okay, maybe.” He admitted. He glanced down at Yaga’s abdomen before back up to meet his eyes. “So, how’re you healing up?” He questioned casually, as if the worried nausea threatening to creep up his throat didn’t completely hinge on Yaga’s answer.

“Better than you.” Yaga huffed, frown deepening at Satoru’s exaggerated wince. “I’m going to be fine,” he said, less gruff than before. “How are you, Satoru?”

Satoru gestured to the IV drip by his bed. “Just dandy since they’re pumping me full of whatever sweet liquid relief this is,” he answered easily.

It was Kento’s turn to get in his two cents, crossing his arms as he stared down at the white-haired man.

“I asked you not to be reckless.” Kento reminded, distinctly unimpressed.

Satoru crossed his arms right back, pouting up at the blond. “You also said to make it back home to my kids. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Kento clicked his tongue. “Not due to your own efforts, from what I hear.”

Satoru wilted a little. “I don’t know which possibility’s worse: Suguru or Sukuna telling you what happened.” He grumbled, letting his arms fall away onto his lap. “Looks like you were right to be worried,” he sighed, unable to look at Kento. “History did repeat itself.”

It was Kento’s turn to sigh, pointedly and with much aggravation. “You’re exhausting,” he said in a low voice. “My first gray hair was because of you,” he continued. “But… at least you’re here.”

“Kento, you do care.” Satoru sniffled, looking up at the blond with big, watery eyes.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Kento pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, do us all a favor and stop throwing yourself headfirst into danger.”

“Danger throws itself at me,” Satoru corrected with a little huff. “But… I guess you’re right that I could maybe tone it down, you know, just a little.”

“I’m just amazed he admitted you were right.” Yaga muttered to Kento, who rolled his eyes.

“Where is everyone else?” Satoru changed the subject, peering behind them at the entrance to the room. “Are the kids okay? Where’s Yuu? And…” Satoru trailed off, not having the heart to say Suguru’s name.

“Well…” Yaga began, but Satoru stopped paying attention when more people arrived at the door.

Megumi, Tsumiki, and Yuuji all filed into the room, Yuu ushering them inside from the rear. While the brunet was no longer using a crutch, Yuuji was.

“Gojo-san!”

Megumi and Tsumiki rushed over to the bed as soon as they saw that Satoru was awake. The latter grinned at them, cheeks stretching wide as Tsumiki grabbed his hand between both of hers and Megumi laid a palm down on the bed near Satoru as he looked up at him.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” Tsumiki asked immediately, peering up at him with wide brown eyes.

Satoru squeezed her hand. “I’m fine. Promise,” he swore. “I made it back just like I said I would,” he turned to Megumi.

“Don’t go off like that again.” The boy mumbled, looking down at the sterile white sheets. “Was it worth it?” he asked quietly.

Satoru took a deep breath, considering the question. He still didn’t know what had happened to Toji, but he was going to guess that the other was most likely dead if Sukuna had gotten his way. Even if he was still alive, was Satoru satisfied with how things turned out?

He thought of how calm he’d been when he thought it was the end of the line—of the peace he’d found within himself. Most of it could’ve been chalked up to blood loss, but Satoru was just glad he’d let go of his trauma.

Then again, it was also fairly likely that Satoru had just cut off his emotions and disassociated himself completely from Toji and everything he’d done. And that…wasn’t healthy either.

Satoru wondered if it was finally time to find a good psychiatrist.

But back to Megumi’s question: was it worth it?

He thought of Suguru, and he knew.

“In a way, I guess it was.” Satoru finally answered. He glanced from Megumi and Tsumiki over to Yuuji, who was hanging back with Yuu. The pink-haired boy appeared to be a mixture of relieved and guilty, shifting on his feet despite Yuu’s steady hand on his shoulder. “Yuuji-kun, why are you so far away? You can come here too; I was worried about you.” He waved the boy over.

Yuuji’s eyes lit up, and he shuffled over, still unused to his crutch. “I’m glad you’re okay, Gojo-san.” Yuuji said, looking a little shy.

Even Satoru could tell this was uncharacteristic for the boy. “How are you doing, Yuuji-kun?” he questioned sincerely.

“The doctor said there’s nothing to worry about with my head, and that my ankle will be as good as new in a month.” Yuuji perked up, standing a little straighter. “Your first aid really helped apparently, so thank you again!”

Satoru smiled, ruffling Yuuji’s hair. “That’s good, but how are you doing? You seem down, kid.” He prompted.

Yuuji’s tiny smile faded and he looked at his feet, shrugging. “I’m okay, really.” He said unconvincingly.

Megumi’s nose scrunched, and he sighed. “He feels guilty,” he stated.

Satoru blinked as Yuuji’s head whipped up, staring at Megumi in betrayal.

“Guilty? Why?” Satoru tilted his head.

“Megumin, no—” Yuuji squealed, turning red as he waved his hands in some sort of desperate, abortive signal.

Megumin! Satoru thought with glee, even more elated when Megumi didn’t bat a lash at the name.

“He thinks it’s his fault you and his brother got caught,” Megumi revealed as he crossed his arms. “Which we know it’s not. He just needs to hear it from you.”

Satoru’s lips pursed as he looked down at Yuuji, who wilted under his gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

“Is that true?” Satoru questioned, receiving a noncommittal shrug from the younger. “Yuuji-kun, be honest.” He clicked his tongue. Finally, he received a hesitant nod. “Okay, this isn’t gonna work. Look at me,” he requested with a sigh. “Yuuji.” He said again, dropping the honorific. The boy finally listened, nervous brown eyes meeting steady blue ones. “Megumin’s right: it wasn’t your fault. Toji’s the one to blame here, and Mahito too for going after you in the first place. You were a victim in this,” he said firmly.

Yuuji’s eyes welled up and his lip began to wobble, nose scrunching as he sniffled. He didn’t dare open his mouth to speak, making a shaky and vaguely acknowledging sound that barely escaped out of his clogged throat.

Megumi looked torn on what to do, but when Yuuji hesitantly reached out to him, he slid his hand into Yuuji’s without hesitation, palm to palm as he intertwined their fingers together.

Satoru’s ribcage felt too cramped to hold the affection that bubbled up in him at the sight. When he looked at Kento and Yuu, their smiles told him they were experiencing a similar feeling.

The door swung open again, and Shoko walked in. Satoru opened his mouth, ready to greet her, but his breath caught when he saw who came in behind her.

Suguru’s gaze honed in on Satoru without missing a beat, and the way he looked at him had Satoru feeling raw. He felt seen down to his soul, and it would’ve been a terrifying sensation were it anyone other than Suguru.

Satoru finally remembered to breathe, the other’s name slipping from his lips as he inhaled.

“Suguru.”

The lines of Suguru’s tense shoulders loosened, and he let out a breath as he responded in turn.

“Satoru.”

The air was thick with all the things that had been left unsaid, filling up the space between them without regard for anyone else in the room.

There were so many questions that needed to be answered, so many revelations that needed to be shared, and so many missed declarations that needed to be reaffirmed.

“Getou-san!” Yuuji was the one who broke the silence, expression full of relief. “You’re okay!”

“Yes, Yuuji-kun. I’m glad to see you’re in one piece, too.” Suguru broke his eye contact with Satoru to look at the pink-haired boy, a soft smile on his lips. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

Yuuji sniffled, scrubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah…”

“You know Yuuji-kun?” Satoru blinked.

“It’s a long story,” Suguru rubbed the back of his neck with a little shrug.

“That’s definitely him, right?” Tsumiki whispered to Megumi, looking at the black-haired man with wide eyes. “Getou Suguru?”

“His Suguru…” Megumi nodded, voice soft. If the room wasn’t already so quiet, it would’ve gone unheard.

“You told your kids about me?” Suguru asked, looking surprised and a touch bashful.

“Of course, I told my kids about you.” Satoru huffed, brow furrowing. “Why wouldn’t I tell my kids about you?”

Suguru let out a little awkward chuckle, “I can think of a few reasons.” Then, he looked at Satoru properly, not even trying to hide the soft, attentive way his eyes traced over him. “It’s good to see you awake, Satoru.”

The tenderness in his tone settled warm and poignant over Satoru, sinking into his skin and all the way down to his bones.

Suddenly, Satoru recalled what he and Suguru had said to each other at Sukuna’s compound when they had met for the first time after their two years apart.

“Careful, Suguru.” Satoru clicked his tongue. “It almost sounds like you still care.”

Suguru’s lips quirked, much to the confusion of everyone around them. It didn’t matter if anyone else understood, this exchange was meant for just the two of them.

“Force of habit, I suppose.” Suguru murmured as quietly as he had the first time, but the growing smile he wore now was everything to Satoru.

“Well,” Satoru’s returning grin was crooked, changing the script and enjoying how Suguru hung onto his every word, “I’m glad you didn’t learn how to break it. Even if it did get you into trouble.”

“It was worth it.” Suguru replied without an ounce of hesitation. “I’d do it all over again if it meant you would be safe.”

The machine monitoring his heart rate began to beep faster, and Satoru blushed furiously as everyone witnessed the undeniable evidence of how viscerally Suguru affected him.

“I didn’t think he had the ability to get embarrassed anymore.” Yaga said to Kento, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, this is a rare occurrence.” Kento replied in deadpan.

“I can hear you.” Satoru crossed his arms as he glared at them, shoulders hunched as if he was trying to hide the way his cheeks were still pink.

Shoko jabbed Suguru in the ribs with her elbow, clearly not holding back because he let out a little grunt at the action. She gave him a mildly threatening look, unsubtly glancing at Satoru before back at Suguru again.

“Satoru, I have something to tell you.” Suguru began, clearing his throat.

Satoru propped his chin against the back of his fist. “You were undercover this whole time,” he said, watching as Suguru’s face fell.

There were only three people in the room who didn’t adopt some form of shock—Yuuji, who just looked confused, and Yaga and Shoko, whose lips pursed as they exchanged glances.

“You knew?” Suguru asked quietly.

Satoru had never known for sure, but it was one of the first theories he’d come up with as an alternative explanation to Suguru’s motives for what had happened. With every day, week, month, and year that passed, the likelihood of that theory being true waned. However, with Suguru being here now, and Shoko prompting Suguru the way she did… Satoru had just known.

Outwardly, he sighed. “I wasn’t completely sure, but I never took the theory off the table. I had some faith left in you… Doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed, though,” he grumbled. “Why else do you think I never sent you divorce papers?”

“They’re still married?” Tsumiki gasped.

“They were married?!” Yuu’s jaw dropped.

Satoru and Suguru ignored them, gazes fixed on each other.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” Suguru murmured. “I wanted to tell you, but…”

“I told him not to.” Yaga sighed, cutting in.

Satoru shot him a look, disappointed and hurt, but not surprised.

“Yeah, I figured if he was, you’d have to be in on it too.” Satoru said after a moment. “It wouldn’t have been believable if I didn’t act like I just lost my whole world, right?”

“Satoru, I—” Yaga looked pained, but Satoru just held up a hand.

“No, I get it.” Satoru said evenly. “I do… but we should talk more about it later.” He glanced at the children, who were not even pretending to hide the fact that they were soaking in every word. “And you, Suguru.” Satoru pointed a finger at the black-haired man, beckoning him over. “Come here already,” he demanded.

Suguru crossed the distance in a few quick steps, hovering awkwardly at the edge of the bed with Tsumiki on one side and Megumi and Yuuji on the other.

“Are you back for good?” Satoru asked, and Suguru nodded. “You’re not leaving again?” He continued, and Suguru shook his head. “Promise?” He demanded, mentally patting himself on the back for not letting his voice waver.

Suguru let out a breath, reaching over to take Satoru’s hand into his. He was warm, his heat seeping into Satoru’s cold flesh. Suguru always ran hot while Satoru ran cold; it used to be one of the latter’s favorite excuses as to why he would cuddle close to Suguru all the time.

“Satoru, I’m never leaving you again.” Suguru swore, squeezing his hand tight. “And I promise I’ll explain everything to you.”

Satoru stared up at Suguru, studying the vivid bruises on his face. They did nothing to hide the open sincerity he wore as an offering, a small token meant to start a conversation that had been long overdue.

It was fairly established that Satoru was a petty man, and a petty man would’ve had Suguru grovel and work for his forgiveness.

But Satoru, the man who had accepted Suguru as his one and only? He still trusted him after all this time. He could be as mad and upset and disappointed as he wanted, but doubting Suguru was never an option. The possibility that Suguru had been in deep was the only reason Satoru hadn’t sought him out. Not for the sake of keeping his job, not so that he wouldn’t invite whatever trouble seeing Suguru may bring, not even to save his own bleeding heart, but because their distance was necessary for Suguru’s cover.

So, all Satoru really needed to say right now was: “Okay.”

“Okay?” Suguru echoed, looking a little unsure at how easily Satoru had seemed to give in.

“Okay,” Satoru repeated.

Then, he pulled Suguru down by their joined grip, sliding his palm behind Suguru’s nape and holding him in place as he pressed their lips together.

Suguru took a moment to adjust, throwing a hand out by Satoru’s hip to steady himself, mouth parting in surprise before his eyes slipped shut and he responded in kind.

Kissing Suguru felt like coming home.

It didn’t even cover a fraction of how much Satoru had missed him, but it was a start. The part of him that had never quite settled back into his own skin after Suguru had left was finally slotting back into place.

Satoru sighed contentedly, unwilling to stop just yet. He could feel the way the other shivered in his hold, drawing closer to Satoru as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Alright, kids, come with me.” Kento cleared his throat, ushering the youngest three out of the room. Tsumiki and Yuuji fussed in protest while Megumi couldn’t exit fast enough.

“I’m happy for you two!” Yuu called as he followed them out.

“C’mon, Captain. We don’t need to be subjected to this,” Shoko clicked her tongue as she grabbed Yaga’s chair and began to wheel him out. “Should’ve known this would happen when we let them be in the same room together.”

“Well…” Yaga sighed as he glanced back at Satoru and Suguru before shaking his head. “I suppose they’ve earned this.”

Satoru pulled back just enough for him to yell over Suguru’s shoulder. “Hell yeah we did!”

Suguru snorted, shifting so that he was sitting on the bed next to Satoru. “Of course, you’re still as loud as ever.”

“What can I say? I’m always at my full potential when I’m with you.” Satoru cooed, slipping back into his old habit of sweet talking now that he and Suguru were well and truly alone.

Suguru stared at him, brow furrowing as his eyes grew impossibly soft and sad.

“You…” Suguru swallowed thickly, letting out another soft exhale. “Don’t let me in so easily. I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be. So, please… just let it out.” He said, voice cracking.

Satoru stared at Suguru. The latter hadn’t even braced himself, completely open and vulnerable for Satoru to rebuke however he wished.

Honestly, it was still a little surreal for Satoru to have Suguru back. For all he knew, he could still be asleep and this was just a dream.

It just felt too good to be true after everything they’d been through.

Satoru clapped his hands against Suguru’s cheeks, flushing the smooth skin pink under his palms and gaining a little jolt from Suguru.

“I am upset,” Satoru confirmed after a moment. “You just left me behind. There was a chance to explain everything once things had settled down, yet you chose not to.” He continued, watching as Suguru’s expression shadowed. “But also… I don’t know what you went through. And I missed you too much to be mad right now,” he admitted. “I’ll yell at you later. Just… don’t go anywhere. Stay with me,” he asked, voice coming out more pleading than he would’ve liked.

Suguru grasped Satoru’s wrists, thumbs stroking lightly over his pulse points. He turned his face slightly, just enough so he could kiss Satoru’s palm.

“Every day apart from you was like living without the most important piece of me,” Suguru whispered. “I was so empty without you, Satoru. If you felt anything like I did… I’m so sorry,” he bit his lip. But before Satoru could speak, Suguru’s gaze grew fervent and determined. “I promised you, Satoru: I’m not leaving you again.”

“You better not,” Satoru pressed their foreheads together. “I’ll kill you if you do.”

Suguru’s mouth quirked, and he leaned in until their lips were brushing. “And I’d gladly let you,” he vowed.

“Shut up and kiss me back already.” Satoru murmured, breathing in as Suguru breathed out, sharing the same air between their lungs.

Suguru didn’t reply, sliding his arms around Satoru’s waist and closing the gap between them.

They didn’t pull away until Satoru’s heart monitor beeped too fast again—much more drastically than before—and the nurse rushed back into the room to check on him.

Chapter Text

The doctor exited, leaving Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko (who had been the only one to return so far) alone. They had received relatively good news: Satoru’s thigh would heal completely in a couple of months with proper rest and physical therapy, and the stitches in his chest could be removed at the end of the week.

“I thought I told you not to scare us like that again.” Shoko tsked, punching Satoru’s shoulder.

Satoru winced, pulling Suguru over as a shield, wrapping his arms around his husband’s middle as he peeked out from behind him.

“And your bedside manner hasn’t improved even a little since the last time,” Satoru countered as he stuck his tongue out at her.

“I work with dead bodies, they don’t exactly require much handholding.” Shoko deadpanned.

“Just come sit on the bed already.” Satoru rolled his eyes, yanking Suguru down and curling around him like a particularly clingy koala. He hooked his chin over the other’s shoulder, lip jutting out in a demanding pout as he stared up at Shoko.

Suguru smiled at the brunette, patting the space beside them. “You might as well. It’s been a while since the three of us got to just… be,” he reminded.

Shoko’s lips twitched, and she sighed as she sat down on the bed next to the two. “Did you tell him yet?” she turned to Suguru.

“Tell me what?” Satoru asked, looking between them both.

Suguru rested his hand atop where Satoru had clasped his own over his stomach. “While I was undercover, Yaga wasn’t my handler. It was too risky,” he began slowly.

“So, there was another person who was in on this?” Satoru’s brow furrowed, disgruntlement creeping along his features.

“No, Satoru.” Shoko sighed. “It was me.”

“What?” Satoru blinked. “You? But you weren’t even in law enforcement when Suguru left. How did they clear a doctor to be a handler?”

“Extenuating circumstances,” Shoko shrugged. “Suguru staying in contact with any cop would’ve looked suspicious, but me? I’m just an old college friend, and when I became a medical examiner, whatever insider info Suguru gave for leverage in the gang was attributed to me.”

Satoru was quiet for a long time, and when he finally looked over at Shoko, his expression was somber. “Is that why you stopped talking to me?” he asked. “Because you were dealing with Suguru?”

Shoko glanced away, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze any longer. “Do you two remember the first time we met?” she suddenly prompted.

“How could I forget?” Suguru shook his head, voice light as he tried to lift the mood. “It was freshman year and the first day of some required history class; we were put at three-person tables. Satoru took one look at me and said ‘Do your bangs always look like that?’”

“It was an innocent question!” Satoru whined, riled by Suguru’s mocking tone. “You didn’t have to knock my chair over for it!”

“I did no such thing; you fell because you were the one leaning back too far in it.” Suguru denied.

“And you were no help!” Satoru accused, huffing at Shoko. “You just sat on the other end of the table and called us both idiots.”

“And you still are,” Shoko maintained with a little shrug. She looked off to the side, twirling a long strand of brown hair around her finger as she spoke. “You idiots are each other’s everything… and you’re not just any idiots, you’re my idiots. When you two were separated… Even though I still had both of you, it was like I’d lost you anyway because you’re hopeless without each other.”

“Shoko…” Satoru swallowed, unsure of what to say to such a blunt statement. It wasn’t as if she was wrong. During the past couple years, he’d thrown himself into his work and looking after his kids. He’d tried to talk to Shoko, but it just hadn’t been the same.

They’d both put up partitions, able to glimpse each other’s silhouettes but never quite able to see each other the way they used to. Suguru’s absence had been too glaring, too insurmountable for them to get over.

“Satoru, you asked me once why I started working at the morgue.” Shoko said, looking at Suguru as she spoke. “Tell him, Suguru.”

Suguru let out a breath, squeezing Satoru’s hands as he shut his eyes. “It was because I made a selfish request… I asked Shoko to look after you. I never expected her to actually quit being a doctor and start working at the morgue just so she could stay close to you, though.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry, Shoko. You’ve sacrificed so much for us…”

“You…” Satoru sucked in a breath, seeing the brunette in a new light. “For me? Really?” he asked in a small voice.

Shoko didn’t answer, just giving him a look that spoke volumes.

Equally as wordlessly, Satoru and Suguru reached over and tugged Shoko into their arms. She was squished between them, and she sighed when they squeezed her. Her exasperation was just a front though, if the way she wound her arms around their waists was any indication.

“Idiots,” she clicked her tongue.

“Your idiots, remember?” Satoru mumbled, burying his face into the top of her head.

“I missed this,” Suguru admitted in a whisper. “I know I don’t have any room to talk, but—”

“Shut up, you’re allowed.” Satoru hugged them both even harder.

“It’s okay,” Shoko patted Suguru’s hip. “And loosen up, Satoru.” She grumbled, squirming in the tight grip.

“He’s not the only one who missed this.” Satoru said, voice folding in on itself.

Neither Shoko or Suguru commented on it, letting Satoru hold them.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Later, Satoru and Suguru laid in the hospital bed together. Once Satoru had gotten Suguru on the cot with him, he hadn’t allowed him to leave. They were curled around each other, chest to chest with their legs tangled together.

Suguru’s hands had slipped inside the open back of Satoru’s hospital gown, fingers running up and down along the knobs and dips of Satoru’s spine, stroking over his bare skin.

Satoru traced over Suguru’s features with a delicate finger—across his forehead, over the curve of his cheekbone, down the slope of his nose, brushing over his smooth lips, thumbing the soft jut of his chin. Suguru hadn’t changed much; he hadn’t even gained a wrinkle. If anything, his dark circles and gaunt cheeks were nowhere to be seen. Granted, he was still bruised and recovering from his fight with Toji, but Suguru looked healthy.

It was a relief to see him better, but at the same time it reinforced the notion that Satoru had failed.

“What are you thinking about?” Suguru questioned softly, looking at him with a knowing sort of patience that Satoru had almost forgotten about. Suguru knew something was bothering him, just not what.

“You look good, you know.” Satoru said quietly, dropping his gaze from Suguru’s eyes to his collarbone. “A lot better than when you left.”

“I’m covered in wounds from Fushiguro,” Suguru’s brow furrowed. “How do I look better?”

Satoru shrugged, humming noncommittally. “I saw you breaking, but I wasn’t able to do anything about it. You don’t have dark circles anymore, and you finally got the color back in your cheeks…” He explained, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes fitting crookedly over his lips. “You got better all by yourself. You didn’t need me,” he let out a shaking breath. “Whew, these drugs.” He laughed, already beginning to retreat after the raw admission. “It’s fine. I know you still want me, so it’s okay that you don’t need me anymore.”

There was complete silence from Suguru, and Satoru couldn’t help feeling antsy, wanting to peek at Suguru’s expression, but he was too afraid of what he was going to see if he did.

“Satoru, look at me.”

Suguru’s voice gave nothing away, and it was no secret that Satoru only ever listened when it came to Suguru. So, he raised his gaze and met Suguru’s eyes.

His features were fierce, a fire in violet irises that had Satoru frozen in place. It was a similar piercing expression to the one Suguru had laid on him back when he’d gotten angry with him in this very same hospital, but it wasn’t quite as tumultuous. There was no anger, but an identical intensity was still there.

“The day I no longer need you is the day my heart stops beating and I take my last breath.” Suguru stated clearly, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Even in death, I’d find a way to stay by your side so I could watch over you.”

Satoru’s lips trembled, nose scrunching up as his eyes began to sting. The tears were already spilling over heated cheeks before he could try to stop them. He let out a wretched little sound that barely conveyed how Suguru’s words had decimated whatever crumbs of stability he’d managed to keep until now.

“We’ve been back together for literally an hour and you already have me crying in your arms again.” Satoru sniffled, shuffling closer so he could bury his face into the crook of Suguru’s neck. “I hate you,” he mumbled.

Suguru slid one of his hands out from Satoru’s gown so he could pet his hair. “To be fair, I think you were holding those in for a while. You’ve always been stubborn when it comes to letting out your tears.” He reminded in a soft, amused tone.

“Shut up.” Satoru grumbled, nipping at Suguru’s skin petulantly. Suguru just chuckled, nosing at the top of Satoru’s snow white head and breathing him in.

“You know… I wasn’t sure you still wanted…” Suguru trailed off, unsure of how to quite say it. “Your ring,” he finally said. “You don’t wear yours anymore.”

Satoru tensed, and Suguru went similarly still at the reaction, waiting for Satoru to say something.

“I wore mine every day. I never took it off,” Satoru stated firmly. “But Toji took it from me and I… I don’t know where it is now.” He whispered, voice cracking.

Satoru couldn’t see his expression, but the way Suguru’s hold on him tightened considerably said enough.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” Suguru said quietly, voice full of regret and sounding incredibly upset. “If I’d known, I would have…” he let out a sigh. “I’ll get it back for you.” He decided, tone determined. “I’ll figure it out, so don’t worry.”

Satoru nodded, letting the matter be for now. He knew he’d have to ask about Toji eventually, but there was something else he needed to address first.

“Hey, Suguru?” Satoru prompted.

“Yes, Satoru?” he hummed.

“I don’t hate you,” Satoru whispered. “I’m still mad, but I never hated you.”

“Satoru…” Suguru swallowed, and Satoru felt the way his throat bobbed against his lips.

The fact that Suguru thought he’d hated him for leaving made Satoru’s stomach churn. He pulled back, cupping Suguru’s face and making him look at him.

“I love you,” Satoru said firmly. “That never changed and it never will. Don’t ever doubt that.”

It was Suguru’s turn to break at Satoru’s declaration, tears pooling in his eyes as a wavering breath left him. Suguru had always told Satoru that he was a pretty crier, but Satoru didn’t think he held a candle to Suguru.

Even with Suguru’s face crumpled up under the weight of his emotions, he was still the most beautiful thing Satoru had ever seen. The violet hues of his eyes were glistening, blood trickling from his lip as his teeth dug into it and reopened his wound. His bangs tickled Satoru’s fingers, spilling over them as he shuddered.

“Oh, Satoru… I’m so sorry.” Suguru cried softly, pulling Satoru closer to him.

Satoru clicked his tongue, scooting up so he could press their foreheads together. “Suguru, when someone tells you they love you, they don’t want an apology. Say it back, dummy.” He scolded, reaching over to gently wipe away the crimson from Suguru’s mouth.

Suguru laughed wetly, eyes crinkling in Satoru’s favorite version of his smile. “You’re right, Satoru. I love you,” he said reverently, “so much. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Stop trying to one up me and just kiss me again, otherwise I’ll— mmph!” Satoru didn’t get the chance to finish before Suguru was complying, leaning forward to seal their lips together. Satoru didn’t even care about the taste of iron settling over his tongue, sated and content as he let out a little hum.

Suguru only pulled back when Satoru’s heart monitor slowly began to pick up, an amused smile on his face.

“I can’t believe a little kissing is enough to make your heart race,” he teased.

Satoru’s brow furrowed as he pouted. “I can’t believe you’re making fun of me. Aren’t you supposed to be a doting husband right now? You have two years of sweet talking to make up for, Suguru.” He huffed.

Suguru raised a brow, the hand still inside Satoru’s gown sliding down to press against the small of his back while his other hand curled around Satoru’s nape.

“Who said I was making fun of you?” Suguru questioned in a low voice. “I think it’s endearing,” he hummed. “You’re cute, Satoru.” He cooed, going in for the kill.

Both of them were unsurprised when the heart monitor’s beeping intensified. Satoru grinned at Suguru, leaning forward to peck him on the lips.

“Yeah, just like that.” Satoru praised, eyes bright as he regarded Suguru.

“Whatever you want.” Suguru murmured, kissing the corner of Satoru’s mouth.

Satoru stared at Suguru, letting himself get swept up by the floaty haze of affection that came from being with his other half. There was still so much they had to deal with, but for now, he was just… happy.

Which was why he felt a pang of regret for what he was about to say.

“Suguru,” Satoru sighed quietly, “no more waiting. Tell me everything.”

Suguru’s eyes went dull with sadness, but there was an understanding smile on his lips. “Okay, Satoru,” he assented.

“The sooner I know, the sooner we can lay down boundaries to prevent any of this from happening again. Then, I’ll be able to go back to swooning over you without feeling guilty for ignoring all the heartbreak you put me through.” Satoru tried to explain, biting his own lip. “I know you must’ve had a good reason,” he said, pausing as he looked into Suguru’s eyes. “You did have a good reason, right?”

Suguru shrugged, averting his gaze. “I’d like to think so. There’s consequences I regret, but hopefully enough good came of it all to balance it out. Either way, I’ll let you be the judge. If I had to choose a place to start, then I suppose it would’ve been when we got separated for training…”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Suguru tried not to judge others based on first impressions, but after being around Satoru for so long, his habit of relying on his hunches had rubbed off on Suguru.

His first impression when he’d met his trainer Zen’in Jinichi was that there was something off about the man. He didn’t seem out of the ordinary at first, his personality on the stern and apathetic side, but Suguru just knew. There was more to him.

Jinichi had Suguru work himself to the bone on cases, giving him more and more to do until Suguru was drowning in it all. It didn’t help seeing how many cases went unsolved. Worst of all, he could feel a growing distance between him and Satoru with every passing day.

Part of Suguru questioned why he’d even accepted becoming a detective in the first place, but whenever he thought of Satoru, the doubts would be put at ease.

Satoru was the reason why Suguru had closed his first cold case. Jinichi had tossed the file at Suguru and told him to figure it out as homework on top of the other cases they were already working. Suguru didn’t think he’d be able to do it, but after meeting with the victim’s family, Suguru couldn’t help but think of Satoru. Left hapless and with an open wound that had never scarred over, hounded by grief that overtook them in ways that weren’t recognizable at first. Their plight had given him the push he needed to devote extra hours of investigation that led to him solving a six year old case. He’d sacrificed sleep and some time with Satoru, but maybe this was what was required in order to go above and beyond for these new responsibilities.

Suguru knew it would only keep him apart from Satoru longer, but he threw himself into cold cases. The hard work, the thrilling mystery, the lack of evidence, the trails that went cold, the poor victims… these things still made sense to Suguru.

Because as much as Suguru loved Satoru, he saw all of the other’s accomplishments and couldn’t help feeling like he was being left behind. Satoru was always the hero, he was always the one saving the day.

Suguru had his back, but did Satoru even need him anymore?

So, Suguru would become a better detective and worthy of staying by Satoru’s side. He would accomplish this by doing any and all work handed to him without complaint, and he would keep studying and attempting to solve cold cases on his own time.

Somehow, it worked. Suguru was finally feeling ambitious again and even a sense of fulfillment for being able to stay on top of everything.

But then, Suguru was brought crashing down to reality. That was the horrible thing about hope: it clicked off the warning systems that were in place to protect his tender heart and gave him expectations that cut like shrapnel when they exploded in front of him.

The more Suguru looked into cold cases, the more patterns he saw emerging. Seemingly random murders weren’t so seemingly random anymore. Victims who were witnesses or connected in some way to high profile suspects were being beaten, assaulted, or murdered into silence. Those very same high profile suspects were never listed on the reports—Suguru had only found them by following the branching connections from family, friends, and acquaintances.

Which meant there was only one likely explanation: corruption.

Suguru had the pieces in front of him, but he was still missing so much. He knew he had to tell someone about what he was beginning to uncover, and while he wanted to go to Satoru… The other already had a lot to deal with, and if Suguru was right about the corruption, it would put Satoru in the kind of danger where even Suguru wouldn’t be able to protect him.

Going to Yaga was his next choice, but Suguru knew that without proper evidence, there would be nothing the recently promoted lieutenant could do.

With gritted teeth and much caution, Suguru had decided to try Jinichi. However, his instincts told him to check him out one more time and properly observe him to make sure he was trustworthy.

Those instincts saved Suguru from losing everything he’d worked for.

Suguru’s gut had been right when he’d sensed something off about Jinichi. His trainer was a dirty cop, deep in the pockets of the public safety commission—who enjoyed the generous donations that the Zen’in Family made both publicly and privately. Suguru wouldn’t have even found out about it if he hadn’t trailed Jinichi after both their shifts had ended.

Climbing into bed with Satoru at night was the sweet relief Suguru needed but it had also become one of the strongest battles of his life, because it took everything he had not to open up and spill it all out to his other half.

Every time Suguru tried to picture telling Satoru the truth, all he could see instead was the image of him carved open and covered in blood, collapsing out of sight far out of Suguru’s reach.

So, Suguru held onto Satoru extra tight when he could and kept his mouth clamped shut even tighter whenever Satoru asked him how he was doing.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

A few months into his renewed partnership with Satoru, Suguru was made aware his snooping wasn’t going unnoticed. He’d been getting the feeling that he was being followed for weeks now. The sight of Jinichi smoking on a corner not even a couple blocks away from his and Satoru’s apartment only confirmed it.

Suguru knew that he needed to set up a contingency; he couldn’t keep putting off telling someone about what he’d found. Otherwise, all of his hard work would be for nothing and the bastards who were getting away with mayhem and murder would continue to go unchecked. Suguru absolutely could not let that happen.

For now, he decided to find a better place to hide the evidence he’d gathered. Leaving it inside his desk in his and Satoru’s shared study at home felt too obvious. So, while Satoru was at work and Suguru had a rare day off, he dug out his old briefcase and shoved everything inside it.

Suguru checked the closet for a good spot to stash the briefcase, but in his search for a place to hide his secret, he uncovered one of Satoru’s own.

Two little ring boxes were tucked into a nondescript corner of the closet where Suguru was about to stow away his briefcase.

Carefully, Suguru picked up the velvet boxes, opening them and letting out a gasp as he recognized them right away.

Satoru’s parents’ wedding rings.

He knew it without a doubt, having long since memorized the photos from Satoru’s childhood albums. He used to fantasize about getting to meet them, wondering if Satoru took after his mother not just in looks, or if he’d inherited his personality from his father.

Would they have approved of Suguru? Plain, old Suguru who came from humble roots and grew up with only a fraction of what the Gojo Family had? Would they overlook his status because the sheer amount of his love for their son outweighed all of that?

Suguru felt like he’d committed a crime just by discovering the rings, let alone holding them in his hands like this. He moved to close the lids and return the boxes to where he’d found them, but then he looked closer at the jewelry.

The rings had been resized.

Satoru’s mother’s ring had definitely been widened, but it was still meant for a finger more slender than Suguru’s. Satoru’s father’s ring was harder to tell, but he had a hunch it had been adjusted too.

But why would Satoru have gotten the rings refitted just to hide them away in their closet?

There were a lot of answers to that question, but the most likely one had Suguru’s lungs seizing, struggling to take in air.

Suguru picked up the ring boxes and silently padded to the living room, setting them down on the coffee table in front of him. He let out a deep breath, elbows resting against his knees as he pressed his clasped hands against his forehead in a feeble attempt to ground himself.

The only way to know for sure was to ask Satoru when the other got home.

But until then, all Suguru could do was struggle with one thought: did he want to marry Satoru?

Every fiber of his being screamed yes. He was Satoru’s just as much as Satoru was his, everyone knew that. But marriage… it would seal Satoru’s fate by officially tying him to Suguru.

Was putting Satoru in even more danger worth it just for the chance to call him his husband?

Suguru was no closer to an answer by the time Satoru came home. The sound of the key in the lock had Suguru’s stomach flipping, and he bit his lip. He heard Satoru call out for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

When Satoru came into the living room, both of them stopped breathing. Suguru knew Satoru was staring at the rings, but he wasn’t saying anything.

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Finally, Suguru let his hands fall away, unfolding his bent spine as he looked up at his partner.

Satoru looked terrified.

Suguru had never seen him this scared before, not even when he was startling awake from nightmares.

Satoru’s hands were shaking, face pale as his mouth worked soundlessly, trying to speak but no words were coming. His eyes were darting from the rings back to Suguru, and he looked so stricken that Suguru kicked himself for spending so long being caught up on the what-if’s.

He knew what he had to do.

Suguru stood, taking Satoru by the hand and leading him over to the rings. He didn’t let go of him as he picked up the platinum one, never looking away from Satoru’s face as he slid the cool metal onto his trembling finger. Then, he held out his own hand for Satoru.

Satoru bit his lip, picking up his father’s ring and carefully slipping it onto Suguru’s finger. He still hadn’t looked at Suguru yet, gaze focused on the ring as he hesitantly stroked the black and gold material.

Suguru wondered what Satoru was thinking, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He was more caught up with mentally berating himself for not giving Satoru a better proposal. However, all thoughts vanished from his mind when he saw the tears forming like rain clouds in the skies of Satoru’s eyes. They were shimmering like little crystals, and Suguru couldn’t look away when they began to stream down Satoru’s blotchy red cheeks, plopping onto their joined hands.

There were little noises stuck in Satoru’s throat, and Suguru couldn’t tell if they were strangled words or choked cries that weren’t quite able to escape him. When Satoru’s wrecked gaze met Suguru’s, he folded.

“Oh, Satoru…” Suguru breathed, arms wrapping around his partner as he pulled him close.

Satoru crumpled, winding around him in return as he buried his face into Suguru’s neck, holding him desperately tight. Suguru stroked his hair, trying to settle the almost violent way Satoru was shaking against him. It had been six months since the incident with Toji, and Satoru had never dealt with having his trauma dredged up after he’d spent over a decade trying to ignore it. All of the tears he had been bottling up until now were finally hitting him full force.

“You’re always taking your time with these things, huh?” Suguru clicked his tongue as he kept caressing Satoru, letting out a little huff. “Let it out now,” he coaxed.

Satoru sobbed, the sound muffled against Suguru’s skin but no less heartwrenching. He had no walls left to support him, completely relying on Suguru to hold all of his broken pieces so they could eventually put him back together again. Suguru diligently performed his duty, laying comforting kisses into moonlit strands.

He wanted nothing but the best for his Satoru. He would take any wound, fatal or not, to protect him from harm.

So, why did the same thought keep repeating over and over in Suguru’s mind? The one that said he was the one inviting ruin into their lives?

Suguru suddenly felt like the snake from old, offering Eve the forbidden apple.

Chapter Text

A few months into Satoru and Suguru’s renewed partnership, Yaga took Suguru aside into his office.

“Suguru…” Yaga started, face set in an intimidating way that used to have Suguru snapping to attention. Now, the younger just returned his stare tiredly. “What’s going on with you?” he prompted.

Suguru considered how much he should say. Eventually, he did want all of his research to go to Yaga, but if he were to divulge exactly what he was doing now, he had the feeling Yaga would try to stop him.

“I’m just looking into some cold cases, that’s all.” Suguru replied, shrugging lightly.

Yaga’s lips thinned, clearly not convinced. He surprised Suguru when he reached up to remove his sunglasses, looking him in the eye.

“Suguru, I know something’s wrong. At first, I thought it was just a rough patch between you and Satoru, but that’s not it, is it?” Yaga sighed. “Have I ever done anything to make you doubt me? You know that I’m here for you both, right?” He continued, more than a little gruff but he was trying all the same.

Suguru swallowed, touched by the unexpected concern. The awkward way Yaga was showing he cared made him think of Satoru, and he knew they shared a few surprising mannerisms, but it was still endearing to see.

“I think there’s more to the cold cases.” Suguru said quietly, and Yaga straightened up as he listened intently. “Too many things were overlooked, and when you investigate further, they connect back to someone that has the means to…” Suguru trailed off, not wanting to divulge too much.

Yaga understood anyway, and he crossed his arms. “So, that’s what you’re doing? Gathering evidence? Does anyone know what you’re up to? Are you being careful?” he demanded. Suguru just nodded. “Have you told Satoru?” was Yaga’s next question.

“No,” Suguru said with a little too much harshness. “And I can’t tell him. It’s too dangerous right now. You know him. If he gets involved at this stage, he’s just gonna put a target on his back.”

Yaga let out an aggravated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The whole point of having a partner is that you’re supposed to rely on them. Especially when you marry them,” he reminded pointedly.

Suguru had been fortunate enough to be spared a shovel talk from Yaga once he and Satoru had come clean about their impromptu marriage, mainly because Yaga had long since entrusted Suguru with being Satoru’s keeper. However, there were moments like this that Yaga’s fatherly instinct would rear its head.

He knew Yaga was already upset with him and Satoru for eloping in secret, and Suguru’s parents were also pissed that they’d missed being able to attend the ceremony. The only balm to their parents’ ire was that they were the only ones they’d told about their marriage, and that Satoru and Suguru promised to give them a proper wedding down the line.

Suguru knew he should throw Yaga a bone; the older man was just worried and Suguru hadn’t exactly been doing a stellar job of being a good son-in-law to him.

“I’m just trying to protect him.” Suguru confessed, scrubbing a weary hand over his face. “It’s not like I’m not planning on telling him… it’s just too soon.”

Yaga studied him, mouth slanted in a deep frown. “Fine. But if you don’t tell him eventually, I will. Married or not, partners are supposed to communicate, Suguru. Remember that.”

“Yes, lieutenant.” Suguru replied monotonously. “Is that all then?”

“Which case are you working now?” Yaga asked, not ready to let the younger detective go just yet.

Suguru glanced at the door before looking back at Yaga. “There’s some missing children from the Himawari Home that I’m about to look into.”

Yaga’s reaction had Suguru’s attention piqued: recognition flashed on his features before his expression became grim.

“I’ve always had a feeling about that place, but I never had the time to dig into it.” Yaga admitted, fingers drumming against his desk before he continued. “Satoru was actually supposed to be sent there after his parents were killed. Luckily, the paperwork for me taking custody went through before he even stepped foot on the premises.”

Suguru’s breath caught, chest tight at the thought of Satoru being sent to the orphanage and getting lost in the system, alone and forgotten. He already had a soft spot for children and was going to give these cold cases his full effort, but now the case felt somehow personal.

“Whatever happened there, whatever may still be happening there… I won’t stop until I find out the truth.” Suguru declared.

Yaga sighed, putting his sunglasses back on. “Just be careful, Suguru.” He ordered. “Remember what I told you.”

“Yes, sir.” Suguru replied, more emphatic this time.

“Good, you’re dismissed.” Yaga finally waved him away.

Suguru got up and left the lieutenant’s office, immediately catching Satoru’s eye from across the bullpen. Satoru made a beckoning motion, trying to wave Suguru back over to their desks.

Suguru sent him an apologetic smile, shaking his head as he turned and exited the bullpen instead. He made a beeline to the record room, trying to ignore the churning in his gut.

The guilt was becoming something Suguru was able to live with, and that fact scared him. He was beginning to learn what he was capable of, and he was doing things that would’ve had his younger self disappointed and ashamed of him.

Suguru had to remind himself that it was all for the sake of the victims and for Satoru.

Determined, he went down the aisles and collected all the physical case files pertaining to the Himawari Home.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

When Suguru arrived at the orphanage, his first impression was that it was utterly ordinary. It had the hallmarks of an older building with peeling paint and small cracks in the structure, but there were spots of color from the sunflower murals and flourishing greenery interspersed throughout the grounds. He could see there were children out and about in the decently sized playground not too far from the entrance.

At first glance, nothing seemed strange about the place. But Yaga wouldn’t have warned Suguru if there weren’t something going on, and Suguru wouldn’t even have the orphanage on his radar if it hadn’t been for the above average missing children’s cases.

Suguru headed to the front, pausing when a ball bounced and skidded to a stop in front of him.

“Sorry, mister!” A pink-haired boy called, rushing over from the playground to come pick up the ball.

“Itadori, how many times have we told you to hold back that crazy strength of yours?” A blonde girl huffed, stomping over. A quiet brunette who looked identical to her trailed behind them, carrying a small patchwork doll.

“It’s no problem,” Suguru replied to the boy before looking at the girls. “It’s good to see children out playing on such a nice day like this.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes up at him. “Are you one of those creeps that likes to watch kids?” She demanded, shifting so that she was standing protectively in front of the other girl.

Suguru raised his hands, “Absolutely not. I’m a detective, see?” He held out his badge, letting the kids look at it. “Do people come to watch you often?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“I thought everyone who watches us play wants to adopt us, and they’re just trying to decide who they like most. You know, like when you go to the store and try to figure out which brand is the best.” The pink-haired boy tilted his head.

Suguru stifled a chuckle at the analogy, finding the boy endearing.

“You’re so dumb,” the blonde huffed.

“You’re mean,” the boy countered as he stuck his tongue out at her.

“Nanako’s not mean.” The brunette finally spoke, a little frown on her face. “Take it back.”

“She called me dumb!” The boy pouted.

“Because you are,” the brunette sniffed.

“Now, now, it’s not nice to call each other names.” Suguru cut in. “But speaking of, I’m Getou Suguru. What are your names?” he asked.

“Itadori Yuuji!” the boy chirped.

“Hasaba Nanako,” the blonde puffed her chest out.

“Hasaba Mimiko…” the brunette answered in a faint voice.

“How long have you been at this orphanage?” Suguru questioned.

Yuuji twirled the ball in his hands, looking down. “I’ve been here for a month.”

“Mimiko and I have been here since we were babies.” Nanako replied, glancing at her sister. “So, why are you here?”

“Is it because of Shinji?” Yuuji blinked up at Suguru.

“Shinji? Did something happen?” Suguru asked, falling into a crouch so he could be at eye level with the boy. There had been no mention of anyone named Shinji in the reports he’d read.

“Shut it!” Nanako hissed, looking upset. “You know we’re not supposed to talk about that.”

“We’ll get in trouble…” Mimiko mumbled, clutching her toy closer to her.

Suguru’s expression grew serious and he looked at the three children. “Listen, if something is going on here, you can tell me. That’s why I’m here,” he explained. “I’m a detective, remember? You can trust me,” he promised.

Mimiko and Nanako still looked hesitant, but Yuuji was staring at Suguru with wide, hopeful eyes. He waved Suguru closer, and the detective obliged. The boy cupped a hand around his mouth as he leaned in to whisper into Suguru’s ear. “The truth is—”

“My, my, what is this?”

Yuuji startled, quickly backing away from Suguru. The twins had immediately dropped their heads, bowing respectfully at the newcomer.

Suguru turned, straightening up as he met the gaze of an old woman. She was dressed in traditional robes and her short stature was even further pronounced by her hunched back.

“Hello.” Suguru greeted politely, bowing to the woman. “I’m Getou Suguru, a detective from one of the nearby precincts. I called to set up a meeting earlier,” he said.

“Ah, Getou-kun.” The woman nodded, stroking her chin. “We spoke on the phone. I’m the head of Himawari Home, Ogami. Come with me, we’ll talk inside.” She turned, waving Suguru along.

Suguru glanced over at the kids, giving them a warm smile. “I’ll be back in a little bit,” he assured.

Yuuji waved at him, and the twins held each other’s hands as they watched him go.

Ogami led Suguru into the building, and the inside was just as innocuous as the outside appeared. However, when they reached her office, Suguru stopped and stared at the other end of the hallway.

There was a large metal door with not one but two bars latching it closed as well as locks on each bar.

“Where does that lead?” Suguru questioned, pointing at the door.

“The basement,” Ogami answered. “The boiler and some equipment is kept down there. We keep it locked so the children don’t try to explore and get themselves injured.”

If anything, it looked more like they were trying to keep someone in, not someone out.

Suguru kept quiet for now, and Ogami let them into her office, gesturing for Suguru to have a seat across from her. Suguru did so, looking around the space. There were pictures of children all around them, many of them with their new families. The only one on her desk was of a man who appeared around Suguru’s age.

“So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?” Ogami prompted once they were both seated.

“Over the past twenty years, hundreds of children have come and gone from this orphanage, correct?” Suguru checked, and Ogami inclined her head. “Of them, dozens have been reported missing. Your facility’s missing children cases are above average, Ogami-san, and you’ve been here from the very start. How would you care to explain all this?”

Ogami had yet to show a hint of warmth since Suguru had met her, expression distinctly neutral, but there was a flicker of irritation that didn’t escape Suguru’s notice.

“Getou-kun, the Himawari Home is known for taking in the children deemed as lost causes. We work extra hard to straighten them out so they can go on to find new, permanent homes. However, some children are just born unhappy.” She stated. “No matter what we do, sometimes they just… leave.

“So, you’re saying that all of these children decided to run away? There’s no other reason they could have gone missing?” Suguru summed up in a flat voice.

“Of course not all of them,” Ogami clicked her tongue. “Some may very well have been taken by bad people, but many do run away because they lack the discipline to abide by the rules we set here.”

“And what rules might those be?” Suguru raised a brow.

“The same rules as any orphanage, Getou-kun: they must do as they’re told, behave accordingly, and always show respect.” Ogami stated with finality.

“What happens when a child doesn’t follow the rules?” Suguru frowned.

“We re-educate them,” Ogami replied cryptically.

Before Suguru could ask her to elaborate, his phone rang. He took it out of his pocket, Satoru’s kissy face flashing up at him. He chose not to answer, deciding to call the other back later.

“My, my, your partner is Gojo Satoru?” Ogami questioned, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

Suguru stilled, gaze sharp as he regarded the old woman. “Yes, he is. You know him?”

“We met once, long ago. He was such a little thing.” Ogami recalled, and something about her tone had Suguru’s skin prickling with unease. “Truth be told, he almost became one of my wards after the… tragedy with his parents.”

Suguru’s fists were clenched in his lap just out of sight, and he plastered on a fake smile. “I’m sure you run an… adequate facility,” he began with a carefully neutral tone, “but I’m glad he was placed with a proper guardian who took great care of him.”

Ogami’s lips twitched upward, her first smile that Suguru was privy to. He wished she would’ve kept her previously mild expression, because the sight of her bared teeth and folding wrinkles was an ominous one that he wouldn’t be able to forget any time soon.

“Yes, well, had he ended up here, I can tell you for certain that a boy like him would’ve been adopted right away.” She chuckled.

Suguru barely refrained from recoiling as he felt his blood pressure rise, nausea and protective fury sparking inside him. There was a double meaning to her words, and it made Suguru’s warning bells blare even louder than before.

There was definitely something illicit happening at the Himawari Home.

Suguru’s phone began to buzz again, and he declined the call once more, quickly messaging Satoru he would ring him back shortly.

“I’m sorry, it seems I have to get going.” Suguru stood, bowing to Okami despite the way she made his skin crawl. “Thank you for your time, Okami-san. I’ll be in touch,” he stated with just enough firmness so that she knew he meant it.

“It was an illuminating visit,” Okami said lowly. “Do take care, detective.”

Suguru exited, glancing over at the locked door to the basement once more before he turned and headed for the front entrance.

Yuuji was nowhere to be seen, but Mimiko and Nanako were walking down the sidewalk toward the biggest oak tree in the yard.

“Hey, you two.” Suguru greeted as he went up to them. “I told you I’d be back,” he smiled. “Where’d Yuuji-kun go?”

Nanako huffed, tugging on Mimiko’s hand as she tried to walk away from Suguru. “Of course you wanna know about him. Everyone always ends up liking that snotty twerp.”

“A man with tattoos came… he said he was Yuuji’s brother and they both went that way.” Mimiko answered quietly, pointing to the side of the building.

Before Suguru could even finish processing that, Nanako piped up again, brow furrowed and expression dark.

“It’s not like it matters anyway, he’s just gonna get sent back again. He told us himself: no one kept him because he’s a giant klutz and he eats too much,” she scoffed. “I don’t know why he seemed so excited. No matter what, he’s just going to end up back here.”

Suguru’s heart clenched at Nanako’s bitter hopelessness, and Mimiko’s downcast expression was no better.

“We’ve been here all our lives,” Mimiko mumbled. “No one wants us because we’re unlucky…” She whispered, both her and Nanako sinking down so they could cuddle up next to each other amongst the roots of the tree.

Suguru crouched down to be eye level with them once more. He noticed that Mimiko’s long skirt had lifted enough to show her ankles, and Nanako’s sleeves had slipped enough to expose her wrists, revealing faint bruises on them both.

“Girls…” Suguru said quietly, heart breaking and the embers of his earlier anger stoking back to life. “What happened?” he questioned.

“It’s nothing,” Nanako said unconvincingly. Mimiko curled further into her sister, mouth hidden behind her plush as she held it close.

Suguru knew that children got injured all the time from general clumsiness and playing around, but the placement of the bruises and the twins’ reactions solidified his concerns.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out one of his business cards and a pen. He turned it over, writing his cell phone number on the back.

“This is my personal line,” Suguru explained as he held the card out. “It doesn’t matter when or why, if you ever need anything—if you ever just want to talk—call me. I’ll answer,” he promised.

It was Mimiko who reached out to take the card, blinking up at Suguru.

“…you’ll come back?” Nanako asked in a small voice, unable to look at Suguru as she fiddled with her sleeve.

He’d already been planning on it, but now there was no force that would be able to stop him from returning.

“I will,” Suguru assured. “I have to get going now, but don’t forget what I told you, okay?”

The girls nodded, waving goodbye to him. Just the sight of their little forms and tiny hands had Suguru’s chest feel tight, and a part of him wished he could take them with him. Wouldn’t that be fun to explain to Satoru?

Letting out a deep breath, Suguru left the orphanage. He got into his car and finally called Satoru back. They’d caught another case and Satoru was already on his way to the scene. He hung up on Suguru once the latter said he would meet him there, making it clear he was upset with him. Suguru drove in complete silence, knuckles white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel.

The entire time, his thoughts kept bouncing between Mimiko and Nanako—the bruises on their fragile bodies and their defeated outlooks on life, Yuuji—his mysterious brother and what he was trying to tell him, and Satoru—how close he’d been to falling into Ogami’s hands and maybe even becoming one of the missing himself.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

When Suguru told Satoru about the storage locker, it felt like the beginning of the end. Satoru had gone silent afterwards, drawing into himself and refusing to talk to Suguru. He’d known Satoru would be upset and had mentally prepared himself for it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like he was suffering from a thousand cuts every time Satoru snubbed Suguru’s words and touches.

At least when it was time for them to both go to bed, Satoru slid in beside him like always. He kept his distance, and Suguru laid sleepless as he stared at the ceiling, trying not to give into the urge to curl around Satoru.

Just when Suguru had resigned himself to closing his eyes and to try to get some rest, there was shuffling from next to him and Satoru’s fingers were circling his wrist. Suguru turned, blinking at him.

“I’m still mad at you.” Satoru grumbled, brow furrowed as his lip jutted out. He looked so adorably grumpy it made Suguru ache. He held his tongue, knowing it would only make Satoru more cross with him if he said anything right now. “But… I can’t sleep without cuddling, especially while you’re right there, so… hold me.” He demanded, tugging at Suguru’s wrist.

Suguru’s lips quirked, and he nodded. “Okay, sweetheart.” He murmured, and he knew he’d said the right thing because Satoru’s eyes glimmered with that familiar spark of delight he got whenever Suguru was sweet with him.

Suguru turned over, moving closer so he could pull the other to him. Their arms wound around each other as Satoru tucked his face into Suguru’s neck, fleecy white strands tickling Suguru’s chin.

“Sometimes, we’ll be right next to each other, and it still feels like you’re miles away from me.” Satoru admitted in a soft voice. “I want to help you… why won’t you let me in like you used to?” He asked, letting out a trembling breath.

Suguru bit his lip, holding Satoru closer to him, arms snug around his waist. “I want to tell you, I do… but I can’t. Just… Just let me do this at my own pace,” he replied. So I can protect you for as long as possible, he didn’t say. He knew if he did, Satoru would absolutely refuse to let the matter go. He never took his safety seriously, especially if he thought it was at the expense of Suguru’s.

“…whatever.” Satoru mumbled, and Suguru could feel his brow furrow against him. He was just glad that Satoru hadn’t chosen to move away.

He thought of what he could say, something to break the morose mood they’d fallen into. Even if he wouldn’t be able to sleep, that didn’t mean Satoru should go off to his dreams all sullen because of Suguru.

“Tell me something you’ve never told me before,” Suguru requested in a barely-there voice. Satoru was silent for so long that Suguru had almost thought he’d fallen asleep.

“You put the sun up in the morning,” Satoru whispered to him, quiet and breathy into the hollow of Suguru’s throat, “and you hang the moon and stars in the sky at night.”

Suguru could barely close his throat around a swallow, shutting his eyes before they could begin to sting, chest caving in on itself at his husband’s admission. He felt like a sinner trudging down the steps to hell, unable to keep from constantly turning back to watch as the best parts of himself were tugged upward and away from him.

Worst of all, Suguru felt like a pathetic, lovesick fool who wanted nothing more than to see Satoru happy. He wanted to be the reason for Satoru’s joy, to be his source of comfort, but he knew all he was doing now was hurting him.

All Suguru could do was hurt.

But he had to try to soothe the ache anyway, Satoru deserved that much at least. “You’re… You’re everything, Satoru.” Suguru uttered after a few moments, listening to how the other’s breath hitched. “I remember once reading that we’ve all got stardust in us, a product of billions of years of supernovas that connect us all… Do you know what my first thought was when I read that?”

“What?” Satoru prompted, voice so soft Suguru wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn’t been pressed so close to him.

“If that article’s true, then you and I must have come from the same star. There’s no other explanation for why I feel whole when I’m with you, and so lost when we’re apart.” Suguru confessed, burying his face into the top of Satoru’s fluffy head. He smelled like the lingering notes of his woody cologne, clean and ambery, but Suguru’s favorite part of Satoru’s scent was the sweet little hint of vanilla that always seemed to cling to him.

Satoru held Suguru closer, petal-soft lips brushing over Suguru’s neck before he laid a tender kiss against it.

“Stop trying to one up me,” he mumbled. “I love you too, Sugu…” he continued in an even quieter voice. “Put the sun up for me in the morning again, okay?”

Suguru breathed out, thumb rubbing over the scar on Satoru’s hip. He deserved so much more, but this… Suguru could give Satoru this much at least.

“Okay, Satoru.” Suguru murmured, feeling the way Satoru relaxed against him and swallowing down the bitter self-hatred that rose up inside him for being the reason Satoru had been tense to begin with. “I will, just for you.”

Satoru’s breathing evened out, falling asleep while wrapped around Suguru like a set of never-ending vines.

Suguru laid in his arms, plagued awake with the distinct feeling that he was rotting from the inside out.

He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to do this.

Chapter Text

Suguru had almost forgotten he’d agreed to go to lunch with Shoko until the brunette had shown up at the station and personally made Suguru drive them to a nearby café. He’d expected Satoru to go with them, but the latter just rolled his chair over to their recently promoted juniors’ desks and said he’d already promised his break to them.

It was suspicious, especially considering how clingy Satoru was, but Suguru let it slide.

Once they’d been seated, Shoko ordered a small gratin and club soda. She gave Suguru a look when he asked for miso soup and tea.

“Eating light today?” she remarked.

“I’m not really hungry,” Suguru shrugged in a way he hoped was convincing. He wasn’t lying, he just didn’t get hungry anymore. The most he tended to eat was when he shared meals with Satoru, which wasn’t as often as either of them would have liked.

“You haven’t been in for your physical.” Shoko said, tone disapproving as she pointedly looked up and down at Suguru.

“I’ve been busy,” Suguru sighed. They both fell silent when their server returned with their drinks, and Suguru stirred some sugar into his tea before taking a sip.

“While I’m sure you and Satoru have been taking care of each other’s prostate exams, you still need to come in to get the rest of you checked out, you know.” Shoko clicked her tongue, tone entirely too blasé for Suguru’s liking.

He nearly spat out his tea, coughing as he quickly set his cup down. “Shoko, we’re in public.”

“Oh, so you do still have some life left in you.” Shoko commented dryly, entirely unapologetic as she watched Suguru wipe his mouth with a napkin.

“What is that supposed to mean?” his brow furrowed.

“It means—and I say this as your friend—you look like shit, Suguru.” Shoko stated bluntly, lips pursing. “I’m worried about you.”

“Oh,” was all Suguru managed to say.

“‘Oh,’ he says.” Shoko sighed, grabbing the neck of the bottle of club soda and drinking from it as if it were a beer. Suguru was just proud of her for managing to stay sober this long, even if she was still in the process of breaking old habits. “You talked to anyone yet?” she asked.

“Define ‘talked,’” Suguru said after a moment.

“That’s a no,” Shoko huffed. “I know damn well you haven’t talked to Satoru. I thought he was pathetic when he was separated from you for training, but this… it’s different.” She said, brow furrowing again. “What’s going on, Suguru?”

Suguru let out a breath, taking a measured sip of his tea as he tried to ignore the way his stomach clenched.

“I’m getting sick of people asking me that,” he muttered.

“Then stop wasting away and let one of us help you,” Shoko was quick to reply. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth stubbornly suffering in silence for months on end, Suguru.”

Suguru didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. “Did Satoru put you up to this?” he asked hoarsely.

“Believe it or not, Suguru: I have eyes. I’m allowed to worry about you when I can literally see you crashing and burning.” Shoko snapped, a fire in her chestnut gaze that wasn’t normally present. “Did Satoru confide in me about how much this is fucking him up? Yeah. So, sue me for wanting to get to the bottom of whatever this is so both of my idiot friends can stop being eaten away by it.”

Suguru sat there in stunned, guilty silence, and neither of them spoke when the server popped back to their table with their food.

“Enjoy your meals, and please let me know if you need anything else!” She chirped before scurrying off, clearly having read the mood.

Suguru stared at Shoko even after she broke eye contact, picking up her spoon and taking the first bite of her gratin in a particularly passive-aggressive way.

“Do you still have faith in people?” Suguru suddenly asked, not bothering to elaborate even when Shoko looked at him warily.

“People in general? Not really,” she answered. “People I care about? Yeah,” she gave Suguru a pointed look. “Why? Did you start losing yours?”

“I know that people aren’t inherently good or evil,” Suguru admitted. “It’s just that no matter where I look, I keep getting reminded that nothing’s fair. Why do the bastards who screw over innocent people get to stay in power and it’s the victims who have to suffer for it? Why are they allowed to get away with it?” he blurted out in frustration.

Shoko studied him, head tilting and hair falling over her shoulder. “Your soup’s going to get cold,” she said simply.

Suguru blinked, looked down at his bowl, and then back at Shoko. In demonstration, she picked up her own spoon once more, scooped some of her gratin and ate it, then raised an eyebrow at Suguru as she waited for him to follow suit.

Suguru did so, closing his eyes as the soup traveled down his throat and settled warm in his stomach. He’d chosen a simple option, and the flavor of it reminded him of his father’s recipe. The restaurant must’ve used the same hard-to-find brand of miso.

Shoko didn’t speak again until Suguru had taken a few more sips. “People are selfish,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Especially when they’re used to getting their way. You see it everywhere, Suguru. We got into our professions knowing we’d be exposed to these things. We both deal with victims, but you can actually do something about the people who hurt them.” She reminded.

Suguru set his spoon down, watching one of the little flower-shaped carrots float at the top of his soup.

“Sometimes, I miss who I used to be before Fushiguro came into our lives.” He confessed, letting out a steadying breath. “The old me saw the silver lining in everything, and I never gave up hope. Other times, I hate myself for having been so naive and ignorant to how the world really works. Maybe if I’d just known better…”

“You keep thinking in what-ifs and you’re going to lose sight of what’s important.” Shoko cut him off, tone firm but eyes soft.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Suguru prompted dryly.

“The present, idiot.” Shoko rolled her eyes. “If you keep looking back, you’re going to miss what’s happening now, and then you’ll regret that too. Reflection’s important, but you have to remember to actually be here.”

Suguru couldn’t help the chuckle that left him, making Shoko shoot him a look. “Sorry, sorry…” he apologized with a little smile. “I just thought of how Satoru likes to tear into a pack of fortune cookies and hand me all the fortunes. Hearing you say all that reminds me of reading all of those motivational quotes in a row.”

Shoko kicked him under the table, making Suguru wince. “I don’t know why people think you’re the nice one,” she grumbled. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“To be fair, the reason our trio works out is because we’re all assholes.” Suguru reminded.

“Don’t lump me in with you two idiots,” Shoko huffed.

Suguru’s smile went from teasing to genuine. “I’m grateful, Shoko. Honestly,” he said softly. “It’s a lot, but… I’m dealing with it as best I can.”

Shoko fixed Suguru with a firm look. “You can’t keep avoiding talking to Satoru, Suguru.”

“I’m trying to protect him, Shoko.” Suguru shook his head. “I’m just not ready yet.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe he doesn’t need you to protect him?” Shoko countered, making Suguru stiffen. “You know, Utahime does the same shit you do: you hide your thoughts away and let them eat away at you even though you’ve got someone in your corner who won’t judge and just wants to help. It’s not your protection he needs, Suguru. It’s your trust.”

Suguru felt nauseous again, the guilt spreading to his gut as he took a deep breath. He knew Shoko was right, but to acknowledge it aloud meant that he had to come to terms with the fact that he’d been pushing Satoru away for nothing all this time.

“Look…” Shoko began, gaining Suguru’s attention. “I don’t know what you’ve been telling yourself up until now, but just start by actually communicating with Satoru. Like I said, stop worrying about what’s happened and focus on the now.”

“You’re never this insistent,” Suguru remarked after a beat. “At least, not with anything that isn’t medical.”

“Doesn’t that just go to show how bad the situation’s gotten if I’m not staying neutral?” Shoko’s mouth flattened.

“I…I hear you,” Suguru raised his hands placatingly. “I just need to process it all first.”

Shoko appraised him, brow scrunched as she studied him. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve said my piece. It’s in your hands now,” she said.

“I promise, I’ll think about it.” Suguru swore, and Shoko just gestured for him to start eating again.

They finished their food in semi-comfortable silence, with Suguru chewing over both the vegetables from his soup and everything he and Shoko had talked about.

Was being honest with Satoru worth the risks involved? Was Suguru keeping his mouth shut because he was afraid for Satoru, or because he was afraid of what Satoru’s reaction would be when he finally came clean?

Truthfully, Suguru knew that while it was both, he leaned more toward the latter. He also knew if that was the case… he owed it to Satoru and himself to do better. They had promised themselves to each other, for better or for worse.

Suguru found himself bitter all over again that it had taken him this long to remember what it meant to be a good partner.

He would have to make it up to Satoru big time, but first… he’d start by telling him the truth.

“Suguru.”

The detective blinked as he was pulled from his thoughts, and he looked over at Shoko with a sheepish smile.

“Yeah? Sorry, I was deep in my thoughts, huh?” he apologized.

Shoko’s lips quirked, and she shook her head. “No, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m taking it as a good sign, actually.”

“Yeah.” Suguru nodded, biting his lip. “You’re right, Shoko. I’m gonna tell him.”

For the first time during their meeting, Shoko actually smiled. It was a small thing, but it was full of relief and soothed some of the nerves plaguing Suguru.

“Yeah?” Shoko echoed. “Good,” she hummed. “Well, no matter what happens, you’ve got me in your corner.” Then, she grimaced. “Just don’t make a habit of bottling shit up again. There’s only so much motivational talk I can do in one sitting.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Suguru gave her a little salute, grunting when Shoko kicked his shin again.

“Idiot,” she said fondly.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

At the end of the workday, Suguru sent Satoru home first, promising him a surprise when he returned. Seeing the hope light up in cerulean irises and the radiant smile that settled over shiny, pink lips as Satoru kissed Suguru in farewell was like being bathed in pure sunlight, warming Suguru from the inside out.

Suguru went to Satoru’s favorite bakery, managing to get his hands on the last strawberry shortcake. He knew how much Satoru loved the freshness of the cream they used as well as the fluffiness of their cake bases.

While Suguru knew he didn’t need a bribe, Satoru adored it when Suguru gave him gifts. Price never mattered, it was always the thought that counted. On their first trip to the arcade, Suguru had secretly bought Satoru a surprise gachapon he’d caught him eyeing. Satoru still carried the little Digimon charm on his keys to this day.

Tonight was going to be… Well, Suguru didn’t know what to expect, but he knew that spilling his guts to Satoru was going to lead to high emotions and most likely a lot of yelling.

Thus, Satoru’s preferred cake from his favorite bakery.

Wallet now five-thousand-yen lighter, Suguru made his way down the street. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of a tiny vase of daisies. It was only one small bunch of flowers amongst a beautiful variety of many others, but it made Suguru think of his first date with Satoru. He’d been so nervous, but then he’d walked by a flower shop just like this one and had impulsively bought a bouquet of daisies because the little white petals reminded him of Satoru’s hair. Seeing Satoru preen as Suguru told him as much had eradicated the last of his nerves, and the rest of their date had gone smoothly—as smoothly as a date with Satoru could go, anyway.

Suguru walked into the shop without another thought, seeing a young woman at the counter.

“Welcome! Is there anything I can help you find today, sir?” She asked cheerfully.

Suguru smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, do you have any recommendations on a bouquet that says ‘I’m sorry?’” he asked.

The florist tilted her head. “Is it for a friend, family member, or a romantic partner…?” she prompted. “Different flowers have different meanings depending on who they’re being given to.”

“It’s for my husband,” Suguru answered.

The florist didn’t bat an eye, nodding thoughtfully. “I’m sure we can make you a fitting arrangement,” she said confidently. “Toge, can you come over here?”

To Suguru’s surprise, a little boy who looked to be around Mimiko and Nanako’s age walked out from the back. He wore a sweater with a high collar that covered his mouth and a little green apron just like the florist’s. He had an ash blond bowl cut that swished as he tilted his head questioningly.

“Bring over some purple hyacinths, heliotropes, and calla lilies.” The florist instructed, and the boy nodded before heading over to a corner where a selection of purple flowers were.

“My little brother likes tending to the flowers and helping me out in the store, I hope it isn’t a problem for you.” The florist explained as Suguru watched Toge with warm eyes. Suguru turned back to her, clearing his throat as he realized his soft spot for children had reared its head.

“Not at all, it’s sweet.” Suguru commented, smiling as Toge brought over the flowers. “Thank you,” he said.

Toge nodded before peering up at his sister with big lilac eyes. He signed something, and she nodded. Toge bowed to Suguru before he walked over to the side of the room and picked up a watering can. He began to water the flowers he could reach, the sight bringing another smile to Suguru’s face. After a moment, he turned back to the young woman.

“So, what do these mean?” He questioned as she began to snip the stems.

“Well, the purple hyacinths represent deep sorrow and apology.” The florist explained, gesturing to the tall blooms. “Calla lilies are for overcoming challenges and rebirth, which could signify that you’re ready to move on and make up this period of your relationship.” She plucked up the white flowers before finally pointing at the heliotropes. “And these mean endless love and devotion,” she smiled. “Something tells me you’re a romantic, and I thought they might be appropriate.”

Suguru felt himself flush, and he averted his gaze. “Am I that obvious?” he laughed. “You’re right. These are perfect,” he praised. “Are you sure you’re not secretly a mind reader?”

The florist beamed at him, eyes crinkling. “I wouldn’t be any good at my job if I didn’t know people like I know flowers,” she chuckled. She finished putting the bouquet together, ringing up Suguru’s order. “I hope your husband likes them,” she said as she handed the arrangement to him.

Suguru took a whiff of the flowers, immediately adoring the gentle, pleasant scent. “He’s going to love them,” he stated with surety. “I hope you and Toge-kun have a good night,” he said as he left.

The florist bowed as Toge waved goodbye, and the sight of the boy only made Suguru think of Mimiko and Nanako again. He held back a sigh, wondering how the girls were doing.

Suguru made it back to his car without further distraction, pulling out his phone and beginning to type a message to Satoru that he was coming home. However, before he could send it, the screen switched to an incoming call. There was no caller ID, and Suguru didn’t recognize the number. He didn’t have people from his cases call him often, but he knew it could be important, so he answered.

“Detective Getou Suguru speaking.”

“G–Getou-san?” a small voice filtered through the other end.

“Mimiko?” Suguru was immediately on alert.

“Getou-san, something’s wrong.” Mimiko whispered, and Suguru’s heart dropped. “I–It’s just Nanako and me left, a–and I think they’re going to—”

“Mimiko, they’re coming! Hang up!”

“Please come back, Getou-san! You promised!”

“Mimiko—” Suguru tried, but his blood ran cold when he heard a click, signaling that the call had been ended. He went to call her back, but then realized that if he did and the phone rang, it could cause more trouble for the girls if they were in danger.

Suguru quickly pulled out of his parking spot, racing out of the garage as he mentally mapped out the fastest route to the orphanage.

All he knew was that he was never going to forgive himself if something happened to the girls.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

The Himawari Home looked different at night, less like an orphanage and more like a prison. Then again, Suguru could just be projecting.

He made his way to the one part of the building that had the lights on: the hallway where Ogami’s office was. The front door had been locked, but the side door was propped open. Suguru entered, hit by the heavy odor of gasoline. He slipped his hand under his coat, withdrawing his gun from his shoulder holster.

He quietly cleared the hallway, checking the rooms as he went. When he reached Ogami’s office, he froze.

The door to the basement was thrown wide open.

Suguru’s split moment of surprise was a mistake, because he wasn’t able to turn around in time when the door to Ogami’s office opened.

A heavy blow struck him in the side of the head and Suguru immediately crumpled.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Suguru barely refrained from groaning as he came to, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to figure out what was happening without giving away that he’d woken up. He was slumped over, back against what felt like solid metal bars, and his hands were in front of him. There was cold metal on his wrists, so he knew whoever knocked him out had used his own cuffs on him.

“—did he see?”

That sounded like Ogami, Suguru realized.

“He was going to come down to the basement, baa-chan. I had no choice.”

The speaker was male, definitely younger than Ogami but not a child either.

“This was supposed to be a clean getaway, now we’re going to have to lay low for even longer when they find out about the detective.”

A third male voice—older, but not as old as Ogami.

“You insolent little whelps! Why did you have to call him?!”

Suguru heard quiet sniffles and the sound of muffled crying from somewhere behind him. He had to force himself not to react, keeping his eyes closed. Clearly, Ogami and her accomplices still thought he was unconscious. If he played his cards right, he could still make it out of this without letting the girls get hurt any further.

“This is all that damn yakuza’s fault! Who the hell does he think he is?”

“Baa-chan, calm down…”

“Twenty years I spent building my livelihood, and he comes in threatening to tear it all down? Over that pink-haired brat?!”

Yuuji? Why were they talking about Yuuji? How was the yakuza involved? The questions kept piling up the longer Suguru listened.

“These young upstarts nowadays have no respect, I tell you.”

“We’ll just have to cut our losses and start over up north. The only good thing about this is we can finally be rid of these two.”

Suguru’s heart stopped, completely still as the quiet sniffling from behind him turned into fearful whimpers.

“Leave the detective here. He wants to be with these little wretches so bad, he can burn with them. It’s like I always said, you two are unlucky omens. His death is on your hands.”

The sound of the girls’ crying picked up, utterly devastating to the remaining vestiges of Suguru’s restraint. He wanted nothing more than to snap at Ogami that she was wrong, but he forced himself to remain silent and motionless.

“Awasaka, finish up here and meet us upstairs. Grandson, assist this old woman with getting up the steps, won’t you?”

“Yes, baa-chan.”

Suguru listened to two sets of footsteps grow faint while the final accomplice, Awasaka, got to work. Suguru heard some rustling and clunking before there was a suspicious splashing noise.

His blood ran cold when the scent of gasoline hit his nose, much stronger than what he had smelled upstairs.

He could hear Awasaka getting closer to him, and he knew it was now or never. Suguru opened his eyes, peering up from underneath his disheveled bangs to assess the criminal. Awasaka was an older man with a short and stocky build, holding a large can. Even with his hands cuffed and his head throbbing fiercely, Suguru felt relatively confident that he could take him on.

As soon as he was in reach, Suguru shot his leg out, hooking it around Awasaka’s ankle and sending the older man toppling to the ground. The bulky canister fell from his hands and spilled the clear liquid into a growing puddle on the floor.

Suguru didn’t waste any more time, kicking Awasaka. He tried to dig the pointed tip of his shoe into his side, but there was resistance from a surprisingly firm set of muscles. Awasaka grabbed Suguru’s ankle, throwing him off and sending the detective careening against the metal bars he’d been propped up against earlier.

“So, you were awake?” Awasaka sneered. “You’re just prolonging the inevitable, boy.”

Suguru’s gaze fell behind him, realizing the entire back wall was a row of cages, and the sight of the rusty iron bars were enough to make the detective’s stomach roll. There was movement in the cage closest to him, and Suguru went ashen when he saw Mimiko and Nanako locked up inside, huddled close to each other and covered in blood and bruises.

“G–Getou-san…” Nanako whimpered, swollen lip quivering. Mimiko was crying silently, face buried in the crook of her sister’s neck.

Suguru saw red, but he forced himself to swallow down the curse building in his throat so he could give them a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, girls. It’s going to be okay,” he said gently. Then, he slowly turned his head to face Awasaka once more. “How dare you,” he snarled.

“Don’t look at me,” Awasaka shrugged. “I’m not the one in charge of discipline. Ogami-san’s biggest pet peeve is when children don’t follow the rules.”

“So, you just stand by and watch as she beats them and locks them in cages?” Suguru demanded, fists clenched. He didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more furious, but Awasaka’s next words had him shaking.

“The only reason you’re not in one is because you’re too big to fit. These cages weren’t built for adults, you know.” Awasaka said bluntly.

Then, the older man pulled out a gun—Suguru’s gun. The audacity of this bastard, he thought as he narrowed his eyes at him.

“What did you do with the rest of the kids?” Suguru demanded, staring down the barrel of the gun without showing an ounce of fear.

“Is that your last wish? Really?” Awasaka scoffed, removing the safety.

“You’re trafficking them, aren’t you?” Suguru said through gritted teeth, having come to the grim conclusion once he’d seen the cages.

“Well, well, look at the little detective putting two and two together.” Awasaka snorted. “As if you could’ve managed to accomplish anything here, anyway. Twenty years we got away with this operation. Why do you think that is?” He grinned widely, mustache bunching as his cheeks split around his smile.

Suguru felt sick all over again. “No…” he muttered. “They knew.”

“That’s right, boy.” Awasaka laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. “Do you know how much money is in the business of selling humans? Especially children? There’s plenty of anonymous folks high up on your government ladder who’re on the take. Even if you had exposed this orphanage, there’s plenty more out there. So long as there’s a demand, someone will provide the supply.”

Suguru’s next words came from so deep in his soul, said with so much unbridled hatred, that it caused Awasaka to falter.

“…fucking monsters.”

Awasaka tightened his grip on the gun, aiming at Suguru before firing. The detective ducked in time, long legs letting him intrude into Awasaka’s personal space within a couple of strides. Their height difference made it easy for Suguru to knee the older man in the chin, reaching for the gun with his still cuffed hands.

Awasaka struggled against him, lashing out and punching Suguru in the stomach with his free hand as he tried to wrestle the gun away from him.

Suguru knew that grappling for the gun like this was dangerous, making it liable to go off any second, especially with the way Awasaka was still holding it with his finger on the trigger.

He used all of his strength to push against the older man, but Awasaka was built like a house despite his short stature. In a last ditch effort, Suguru suddenly reduced the power he was putting into their tug of war.

It was enough of a surprise that Awasaka’s grip faltered, and Suguru was able to rip the gun away from him.

BANG!

Awasaka’s eyes were still wide with shock when Suguru put a bullet between them.

Suguru panted, lowering his gun as he stared down at Awasaka’s body. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, lungs knocking against each other as he tried to muster up a crumb of remorse. He felt no guilt—if anything, he felt good.

A small part of Suguru was horrified at how easily he was taking this in stride. This was the first human life he’d ever taken, and the only emotion that he could clearly label feeling right now was… righteous.

Not sparing Awasaka another glance, Suguru turned back to Mimiko and Nanako. They were staring up at him with wide eyes, but there was no fear in them.

“Move away from the door, and cover your ears.” Suguru instructed in a soft tone, a complete shift from moments before.

The twins quickly obeyed, eyes squeezing shut as they pressed their hands over their ears. Suguru raised his gun, shooting the lock off the cage. He clicked the safety back on, tucking the weapon into his waistband since he wasn’t able to reach his shoulder holster with his hands still bound. Suguru pulled the door open, lowering to a crouch as he motioned for the girls to come out.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Mimiko and Nanako stared at Suguru with an awed glimmer in their big brown eyes, fragile hope creeping onto their features. They looked at each other, a silent conversation shared between them before they both stood on shaky legs and shuffled over to him.

Hugging them was awkward with his hands cuffed like this, but Suguru was struck with emotion when he realized that the twins fit perfectly within the circle of his arms. They buried their faces into his chest, their quiet whimpers slivering off pieces of Suguru’s already shrinking heart.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Suguru whispered, wanting nothing more than to let them cry for as long as they needed, but he knew that his first priority was getting them out of the building. “I’m going to take care of you both, I promise.” He swore, distinctly aware that he’d only ever made such a vow to one other before. He could only hope that Satoru would understand. “Trust me for a little longer, and I’ll get us out of here.”

“Okay…” Nanako sniffled as Mimiko nodded her assent.

They untangled themselves so Suguru could stand, and he gave into the urge to pet their small heads. He knew he’d made the right choice when he saw the girls’ tiny smiles at the action.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Every hard-earned morsel of relief and affection Suguru had managed to keep until now drained away the moment they heard heavy footsteps drawing near.

It sounded like they were coming down the steps, but the stairs were hidden from sight around the corner of the opposite wall. All the three of them could do was listen as the thudding grew closer and closer.

“Stay behind me.” Suguru ordered the twins, shifting so that they were able to hide behind his legs, small hands gripping at the fabric of his pants as they meekly peeked out.

The girls gasped when a tall, heavily muscled man with pink-hair and tattoos turned the corner. He was dragging two bodies behind him, blood streaking on the floor as he toted them like garbage.

“It’s him,” Nanako swallowed thickly.

“Itadori’s brother…” Mimiko whispered fearfully.

Suguru was busy trying not to panic, knowing that if their situation had been grim before, it was absolutely abysmal now.

“Ryoumen Sukuna.” Suguru said, unsure if he was greeting the other or simply stating the obvious because he wasn’t completely unconvinced this wasn’t all some horrible nightmare.

Sukuna appraised Suguru and the girls, glancing over at Awasaka’s body before meeting Suguru’s gaze.

And then, Sukuna’s lips curled up into a wide grin.

Chapter Text

“Well, well, isn’t this a surprise?” Sukuna drawled. “I came searching for an ogre, but instead I’ve found a wounded rat and a pair of little field mice.”

Suguru slowly looked down at the bodies Sukuna had taken the trouble of dragging along with him.

Ogami was on his left, her eyes and throat slashed open, but it was hard to tell at first with the amount of blood splattered on her face and neck. It almost appeared as if Sukuna had…

A closer look revealed that Ogami’s tongue had indeed been cut out.

The other body was a man with a blunt mohawk. He had a gory stab wound to the side of his head that was leaking bits of brain and gray matter onto his sweater. Suguru realized belatedly that it was the man from the picture on Ogami’s desk.

Sukuna tossed the bodies over where Awasaka’s was, the blood on his hands smearing his white kimono as he crossed his arms. Not that it was pristine in the first place, there was already plenty of crimson spattered on the pale fabric.

“Now, what do you suppose I should do with you three?” Sukuna raised a brow.

Suguru stood straighter, feeling Mimiko and Nanako’s grips on his pants tighten as they hid behind him.

Suguru knew that if he didn’t think fast, Sukuna was going to kill all three of them. They’d seen too much, and unless Suguru could convince him they weren’t liabilities, they were no more than fish on a chopping block.

He wasn’t like Satoru—Suguru couldn’t just bluster his way out of this. If he acted in any capacity as a detective, Sukuna would kill him. And if he didn’t have his badge to protect him, Sukuna had even less reason to spare Suguru as a civilian.

Suguru glanced over at Awasaka’s body, and the answer suddenly came to him. It was a crazy idea—insane even—but it may just be what he needed in order to guarantee the girls’ safety. If it worked, he might even be able to do something about the secret investigations he’d been conducting over the past year.

Slowly, Suguru sank to his knees, bowing his head. He’d heard of how much Sukuna valued respect, and if he wanted this plan to work, he needed to do everything he could in his favor.

“I have a request,” he stated clearly.

Sukuna made a rumbling sound, intrigued and pleased. “You’ve got my ear, detective.”

Suguru took a steadying breath, and then:

“Let me join Ryoumen-kai.”

There was utter silence, but Suguru didn’t dare look up just yet. He was either making the biggest mistake of his life or buying himself a few vital moments to make his case.

“Explain yourself, quickly.” Sukuna ordered, voice completely void of any prior amusement.

“I can’t go back,” Suguru said hoarsely. “It’s not just the fact that I killed him,” he injected every ounce of vitriol he felt toward Awasaka into his words. “I can’t keep working for a system that lets atrocities like this happen. You’re not like other yazuka… you don’t care about politics. You do as you please. If I wanted to move outside the system, you know it best.” Suguru let out a breath, deciding to risk it and raising his head just enough to hold Sukuna’s cold gaze. “But most importantly, I promised these girls I would look after them, and I can’t do that if I’m dead.”

Sukuna tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he pierced Suguru with a calculating look. There had only been one other time when Suguru had felt so keenly like prey under a predator’s gaze.

He instinctively knew that Sukuna was far more dangerous than Toji.

Finally, Sukuna moved. Suguru didn’t otherwise react, waiting with baited breath as he watched the yakuza.

Sukuna went over to the bodies, squatting down as he began to search through Ogami’s grandson’s pockets. He found what he was looking for after a few moments, but the item was too small for Suguru to see. Sukuna kept whatever it was hidden away in his fist, rising and slowly stalking over to them.

The girls were trembling behind Suguru, gasping in fear when Sukuna came to a stop in front of them.

“Hold out your hands.” Sukuna ordered, and Suguru braced himself as he did so.

Sukuna grabbed him by the cuffs, easily pulling Suguru to his feet. Mimiko and Nanako squeaked and scrambled away, darting back into the cage for safety.

To Suguru’s great surprise, Sukuna revealed the key to his cuffs before he set him free, the metal clattering loudly to the floor as Sukuna stared Suguru down. Without breaking eye contact, Sukuna reached for Suguru’s front, removing his gun and tossing it aside. Then, he slipped his hand into the fabric of his own kimono, pulling out a bloody chef’s knife and flinging it in the same direction as the gun.

“Prove your worth, detective.” Sukuna ordered with a hint of a smile on his lips. “Fight me.”

Suguru’s eyes narrowed, studying Sukuna for deceit. He was inscrutable, pose relaxed as he waited for Suguru.

Suguru remembered Satoru recounting his brazen visit to Sukuna’s compound when he’d still be in training. After the initial lecture he’d given Satoru for being so reckless, Suguru had filed away a key piece of information the other had shared: Sukuna didn’t lie. The yakuza obfuscated and omitted, but he never stated anything that wasn’t true.

Sukuna hadn’t told Suguru what the stakes of the fight were, so it was highly possible that he could still decide to kill him regardless of the outcome. For now, all Suguru could do was shift into position and rely on his training to hopefully satisfy Sukuna.

Suguru was grateful that the cuffs had come off, preferring to fight with his hands since his upper body was much more solid and flexible. Typically, he let his opponent move first since one of his main strategies was that he used his attacker’s momentum against them. However, Sukuna had given him the floor, and Suguru knew better than to squander this opportunity.

He threw a punch at Sukuna’s face, wanting to gauge his reaction speed. Sukuna caught his fist and redirected it with a flick of his wrist. Eyes narrowing, Suguru unleashed a barrage of jabs and punches which Sukuna continued to block with relative ease. If Suguru didn’t know better, it was almost as if the other had four arms with how dexterously he fended off his strikes.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Sukuna raised a brow.

Suguru didn’t rise to the bait, but he did shift on his feet, roundhouse kicking Sukuna in the side. Sukuna used both forearms to block, but the force from the kick finally made him budge.

“Better,” Sukuna’s lips twitched.

Then, he reared his fist back and aimed for Suguru’s jaw. Suguru quickly dodged it, bangs fluttering from the sheer strength generated behind the punch. Not wasting any time, Suguru grabbed Sukuna’s wrist, hauling him in close so he could knee him in the gut and aim his own fist at his jaw.

Sukuna took the hit to the gut but avoided the punch, and the way his expression morphed had Suguru even more on edge.

“That’s good! Keep it up.” Sukuna grinned, sharp and feral as he yanked the top of his kimono down, exposing his muscular torso and the continuation of his tattoos. “I might even get serious.”

Then, it was Sukuna’s turn to rain down a parade of blows on Suguru. It took everything the detective had to keep up with the yakuza’s speed, managing to block most of the hits but there were still some heavy grazes he wasn’t able to fully dodge that left smarting bruises behind.

Suguru grunted when Sukuna returned the favor and kneed him in the stomach, sent stumbling back a few paces before he returned to a defensive stance.

“Not many can keep up with me.” Sukuna remarked, looking pleased.

Suguru had heard of Sukuna’s love for brawls, but seeing it was another thing. The man truly seemed to be a battle junkie, and Suguru knew it was even more dangerous combined with Sukuna’s infamous sadistic streak.

Sukuna grabbed Suguru by his jacket, spinning them just enough so that he had extra momentum to send Suguru flying at one of the cages. Suguru gritted his teeth as the breath was knocked from his lungs at the harsh impact, slumping to the ground. Sukuna was back in Suguru’s space within a second, but the latter had been waiting for just that.

Suguru shot his leg up, and Sukuna was able to avoid getting kicked in the jaw but he couldn’t dodge the cut to his cheek from the pointed tip of Suguru’s shoe.

Sukuna got a kick of his own in at Suguru’s side, but the black-haired man took the hit so that he would be able to grab Sukuna’s ankle and yank. The yakuza dropped, however he was grinning as he let himself fall. Sukuna caught himself on his hands and twisted his body just enough so that he was able to strike Suguru straight in the chest with his free foot.

Suguru’s grip loosened enough for Sukuna to maneuver out from his hold, and Sukuna took advantage of his breathlessness to grab Suguru by his coat and slam him back against the cage. Suguru barely managed to brace himself when Sukuna’s fist collided with his cheek.

“What’s the matter? You were doing so well before!” Sukuna laughed as he kept hitting Suguru, each blow knocking more of Suguru’s awareness out of him.

Suguru’s head was already pounding from having been knocked out earlier, and Sukuna’s hits were only making it worse. Suguru’s mouth was filling with blood and his vision was starting to flicker.

He couldn’t pass out like this. He couldn’t let the girls be forced to see him get beaten to a pulp trying to protect them.

But before he could lift a finger, something inconceivably terrible happened:

Mimiko and Nanako ran out of the cage, and they headed straight for Suguru and Sukuna.

“Stop it!” Nanako shrieked, small fists smacking uselessly against Sukuna’s solid muscles.

“Let him go!” Mimiko demanded, hands barely able to wrap around Sukuna’s wrist, trying to get him to release Suguru to no avail.

The twins were crying; huge, streaming tears that cut through the blood and grime on their cheeks. There was snot running down their noses into their mouths, eyes wobbly and red as their bodies strained with the effort of trying to protect Suguru.

“He just wanted to help us!” Nanako sobbed, not letting up as she kept hitting Sukuna.

“Don’t hurt him anymore!” Mimiko begged, teeth gritting as she kept trying to pull Sukuna away from Suguru.

Sukuna’s expression was unreadable as he stared down at the girls, completely still as watched them try and fail miserably to overpower him.

Suguru didn’t know and didn’t care why Sukuna wasn’t doing anything. He snatched the girls by their middles and yanked them to him. He pulled his legs close and mustered up the strength of every cell in his body so he could kick Sukuna with both feet squarely to the chest.

Sukuna grunted as he went skidding back, using one hand to balance himself.

Suguru hunched over Mimiko and Nanako, shielding their bodies with his own. There was salt melding with the copper in his mouth, and his vision was blurry for another reason.

“Please,” he whispered. “That’s enough…”

It didn’t take a genius to know Suguru wasn’t talking to Sukuna.

“Getou-san…” Nanako sniffled, burying her face into his chest.

“Don’t die.” Mimiko whimpered, mirroring her sister as her fists bunched into the fabric of Suguru’s coat.

Suguru let out a shaking exhale, squeezing them close as he looked up, making eye contact with Sukuna.

“Don’t worry,” he stated as he stared down the yakuza. “No one else is dying tonight.”

Sukuna’s brow twitched, and he let out a low growl. “Tch, damn brats spoiled the fun.” He grumbled. “Get up, we’re going.”

Suguru nearly went boneless with relief. He knew they weren’t out of the woods yet, but this was better than before.

“C’mon, girls.” Suguru said gently, wincing as he forced his aching body to stand. With the adrenaline starting to fade, he could distinctly feel the twinge of every painful bruise and sore muscle courtesy of his back-to-back fights. Awasaka was one thing, but Sukuna? Even if Suguru had been at full capacity, he would’ve been worse for wear. He was lucky he didn’t need a doctor and would most likely be able to take care of his injuries himself.

“Where are we going?” Nanako asked quietly, gripping Suguru’s hand tight when he slipped it into hers.

“Away from here,” Suguru answered as he took Mimiko’s small hand into his free one. “You never have to come back here again,” he promised.

The girls sniffled, letting themselves be led away. While they’d been briefly conversing, Sukuna had rifled through Ogami’s grandson’s pockets again. He stood, throwing something at Suguru.

Suguru let go of the twins’ hands so he could catch the item, blinking at the box of matches.

“Congratulations, you’re in. Your first order: burn this place down.” Sukuna stated without any inflection.

Suguru blinked again, looking from Sukuna back to the matches in his hand. He glanced at the girls, who appeared to still be processing what Sukuna had said. Then, Suguru’s gaze fell to the bodies on the floor and the cages behind them.

He lit the match.

Mimiko and Nanako gasped when Suguru flicked it into the far corner of the room where the spilled puddle of gasoline was from the canister that Awasaka had dropped.

The flames were beautiful, bursting to life in a rippling dance of reds and oranges. They curled and spat as they grew in size, fed by the fuel Awasaka had soaked into the floor.

“Let’s go.” Suguru said, taking the girls by hand once more and leading them away. Sukuna let them go first, the heavy weight of his gaze settled unflinchingly and calculatingly on Suguru’s back as they climbed the stairs.

They left the basement door open, briefly observing as red glowed at the bottom of the stairs, the fire slowly but steadily following them.

Suguru finally felt like he could breathe again once they made it outside, hands clasped tight around the girls’ as he turned to face Sukuna.

“What now?” he asked quietly.

Sukuna raised a brow at him. “What else? We’re going to your new home. Where’s your car? You’re driving,” he said bluntly.

Home.

Suguru had known deep down that by going down this road, he was abandoning everything. He was leaving behind his friends, his job, his life as he knew it… leaving Satoru.

To be confronted with it like this gave him a new wound: centered in his chest, stabbing and so raw he didn’t think it would ever heal.

He took a steadying breath, letting go of Nanako’s hand so he could reach into his pocket. To his relief, the keys were still there. He led them to the car, helping the girls into the backseat.

Behind them, the orphanage was lit with the broiling hues of an inferno, smoke and flames curling out of the open windows. It would only be a matter of time before first responders arrived.

Suguru turned back to Sukuna, frowning when he saw that the yakuza was just standing at the passenger side, door open but not getting inside.

“What is…” Suguru trailed off when he saw the cake box and flowers sitting innocuously on the front seat. His eyes stung, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. He leaned in, picking up the items. He didn’t have the heart to get rid of them, so he put them in the trunk instead. When he slid into the driver’s seat, Sukuna had already made himself comfortable: head leaned back, arms crossed, and eyes shut.

“I assume you know where to go?” Sukuna questioned without opening his eyes.

“Yeah,” Suguru said hoarsely. He paused, clearing his throat. “I do.”

Sukuna said nothing more, and Suguru made eye contact with the twins’ in the rear view mirror. They still looked terrified, but they gazed at Suguru with such budding hope that it formed a lump in his throat. He couldn’t afford to let anything happen to them. They were his priority now.

So, Suguru gave them a reassuring smile, started the car, pulled out of the lot, and drove in the opposite direction of home.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

The grounds of Ryoumen-kai’s complex were more traditional than Suguru was expecting. Everything was well-maintained and even vaguely reminded him of Tengen’s temple.

He stopped before he could find concrete similarities. He was already emotionally drained and running on high alert. Sukuna hadn’t said a word the entire ride, and the girls were too afraid to make a peep.

Suguru had parked outside, letting Mimiko and Nanako huddle close to him as they followed Sukuna. The guards had glanced at Suguru and the twins, but they’d let them pass.

Sukuna led them to what appeared to be the main building, and they were met by a young person with white hair. They had a red pattern in their hair and were wearing a neutral set of monk robes.

“Welcome back, Sukuna-sama.” They bowed respectfully.

“I’m home.” Sukuna returned, canines glinting as he yawned. “Uraume, show them to the bathhouse and get them some clothes. Find them a room while you’re at it,” he ordered before wandering off.

Suguru didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Sukuna had just dumped them off on a random lackey, but he stayed silent as he turned to Uraume and waited.

“This way.” Uraume said, leading the three of them down the hallway and along a pathway to another building. “The showers and bath are through there,” they gestured at the sliding doors a few steps away. “I’ll return shortly.”

“Wait,” Suguru stopped them before they could go too far. “Would it be possible to get some supplies to take care of their injuries?” he requested.

Uraume inclined their head just slightly, and then they were gone, footsteps silent as they disappeared down one of the footpaths.

“Alright, let’s head inside.” Suguru said, sliding the doors open. There were shelves against the walls: some were left empty for storing personal belongings, and the others had fresh towels and bath supplies. At the back of the room was the entrance to what Suguru assumed was the showers.

Suguru went over and peeked his head in, making sure there was no one else. There were a few shower stalls, and an open door that presumably led to the bath.

“You two go ahead first, I’ll wait out here.” Suguru decided, grabbing the bath supplies and towels off the high shelf and handing them to the girls.

“Promise?” Nanako gave Suguru a hesitant look, and Mimiko mirrored her sister’s expression.

As if Suguru was going to leave them now. Let alone when they were gazing up at him like kicked puppies. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he confirmed with a gentle voice.

Satisfied, the girls went inside.

Suguru rubbed his face wearily. Despite the fact that he was alone now, he still found it hard to take a breath.

After a year of making little decisions that stacked on top of each other, one night’s worth of big, impulsive ones were like a shock to his system. He felt the weight of all the consequences bearing down on his trembling shoulders, to the point where one misplaced step would have him collapsing.

He’d kept himself and the girls alive, for now.

But joining Sukuna’s gang? Could Suguru even do what would be asked of him? He’d killed Awasaka, but there was a case for self-defense due to imminent harm. Could Suguru kill when—and it was most certainly when, not if—Sukuna asked him to? Not to mention the arson Suguru had willingly committed. What about the lesser crimes that the group was involved in: weapons smuggling, assault, intimidation, and loan sharking?

Then, there was the matter of the corruption he’d discovered. He would no longer have any authority to arrest the people he was investigating. However, he also wouldn’t be bound by the same rules that protected the suspects.

He could finally make sure that those rotten bastards would never hurt anyone else again.

The doors slid open, interrupting Suguru from his thoughts. Uraume had returned with clothes and the first aid Suguru had asked for.

“Thanks,” Suguru said quietly as he took the items from Uraume and set them down on the only bench in the room.

“The building to the east has spare quarters. You may use any of the first three rooms.” Uraume advised. “Sukuna-sama will want to see you in the morning, so be prepared.” They stated before taking their leave again.

Suguru still hadn’t managed to get a good read on Uraume yet, but he wasn’t going to be letting his guard down anytime soon.

He redirected his attention to the clothes, seeing three pairs of sweaters, underwear, and sweatpants. Two of the sets appeared to be for the twins, but he could tell they were still going to be oversized. So long as the clothes didn’t fall off them, he supposed they should all be grateful.

“Getou-san?” Mimiko peeked her head out, hair dripping onto her bare shoulders.

Suguru averted his gaze, holding out the clothes. “Here. Uraume brought them,” he explained.

Mimiko nodded, taking them. A couple minutes later, the twins exited the shower room while drying their hair.

“Here’s the first aid kit,” Suguru handed it to Nanako. “Why don’t you take care of what you can while I shower?” he suggested.

“Can we help you, too?” Mimiko asked as a frown made its way onto her face. “You got hurt because of us…”

Suguru softened, ruffling their hair. “Sure,” he agreed. “And don’t worry about it. I’d do it all over again to make sure you two were safe.”

Nanako sniffled, scrubbing at her eyes as she turned around to go sit on the bench.

“Use the alcohol wipes on any cuts before you bandage them, and if any of the bruises are swelling, wrap them using the gauze.” Suguru instructed, and both of the girls nodded.

He grabbed a towel and his set of clothes before entering the showers, finding the bath supplies Mimiko and Nanako had left. He chose to use the stall closest to the door so he could still hear over to the next room if anything happened.

He got undressed, tucking his gun and phone between his folded pants and sweater, setting his coat on top. He put the spare clothes down next to them by the entrance.

Suguru turned on the shower, shivering as the water hit his skin. It was cold for the first few seconds before becoming warm. Suguru twisted the dial so that the water got even hotter, the temperature practically boiling.

It stung as it ran over his injuries, but it gave Suguru something else to focus on rather than the overwhelming guilt and devastation encroaching on the edges of his sanity.

He scrubbed himself clean almost mechanically, brushing over cuts and bruises without so much as a wince. He barely remembered to close his eyes as he washed his hair, shuddering he was swept away by the deafening pounding in his ears.

Shutting his eyes was a mistake, because all he could see was the hopeful, radiant expression that had been on Satoru’s face when he’d kissed him goodbye. Suguru braced himself with an arm against the tiles, staring down at the soap suds swirling around the shower drain as he tried to keep his breathing under control.

How was Suguru ever supposed to make this right with Satoru? How was he supposed to go home again? There was no feasible way Suguru could see himself being allowed to speak freely with him, let alone touch him and hold him in his arms again.

Suguru had saved the girls, but he had lost Satoru in the process.

The shower spray felt cold compared to the tears that escaped him, burning as they slipped down his cheeks.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

When Suguru came out of the shower, he saw that his previous clothes were missing. He quickly got dressed, heading out of the shower room to see the girls sitting on the bench.

“Uraume-san took our stuff,” Nanako explained when she saw Suguru’s frantic look. “We’ll get it back later apparently.”

Not only was Suguru defenseless without his firearm, but they would be able to see every private conversation and photo he’d saved on his phone. There wasn’t anything that would implicate Suguru negatively to Sukuna, but the thought of him or one of his people snooping through his phone…

Mimiko held up the first aid kit, looking up at him with determined eyes and her mouth set in a flat line.

Suguru let out a breath, offering a small smile as he sat down on the bench. “Go ahead,” he allowed.

Mimiko cleaned Suguru’s split knuckles and began to clumsily wrap them with gauze while Nanako placed bandages on whatever cuts she could find.

“Thank you,” Suguru hummed once the girls had finished. “I feel much better now.”

Mimiko and Nanako looked at each other with pride before they gave him the brightest grins. The sight was like sun rays breaking through cloudy skies, and Suguru felt some of the tension drain out of him.

“Will you let me check you over just for my own peace of mind?” Suguru requested, knowing it was better to be safe than sorry.

The twins nodded, rolling up their sleeves and pant legs to show off their bandages and wraps. The sight of their thin limbs and the bruises they hadn’t covered made Suguru feel nauseous and murderous.

“You both did a good job. Let me know if you need anything rewrapped later or if something hurts,” he instructed. Mimiko and Nanako beamed, nodding obediently. “Alright, you two need to get some rest.” Suguru decided, placing his hands on their backs and beginning to guide them out. He followed the directions Uraume had given him, deciding to take the first room they came across.

He turned on the light, and the girls found a couple of futons in the closet. He helped them set up their beds for the night, grabbing the blankets and pillows off the top shelf since he was the only one tall enough to reach them.

Once Mimiko and Nanako crawled into the same futon, Suguru turned off the lights.

“Goodnight, girls.” Suguru murmured.

“Goodnight, Getou-san.” They said quietly back, and it only took a few minutes before they were fast asleep, utterly exhausted.

Suguru had no plans to sleep. There were still too many uncertainties. He grabbed his pillow and propped himself against the wall, crossing his arms as he kept guard.

At first, he watched the twins: the rise and fall of the blanket over their sleeping bodies, soft breaths ruffling each other’s bangs.

They’d had so much taken from them over the course of their short lives, dealt an unfair hand by the cruel sisters of fate. It was now Suguru’s job to make sure they were taken care of. He’d made a promise to them, and he couldn’t afford to break it.

Not like how he’d broken his promise to Satoru.

Just the thought of his husband made his chest ache anew. He was sure Satoru must be going out of his mind. He only hoped he wouldn’t go looking for him. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen to Satoru because he was trying to find Suguru.

Suguru bit his lip, head thudding softly against the wall as he tipped it back.

He needed to figure out a way to talk to Yaga. At the very least, he would be able to explain himself and get some direction. If Yaga tried to arrest him, Suguru would have to get away and resign himself to this new life. Despite the man’s gruff exterior, Yaga did have a soft spot and Suguru would just have to take advantage of it.

Suddenly, Suguru heard quiet whimpers coming from the futon, and his head whipped up to check on the girls.

Both of their brows were furrowed, eyes screwed tightly shut. They were clearly having a nightmare, and Suguru’s heart broke for them. He hesitated, not sure what to do.

Then, Nanako let out a sob and a tear slipped from Mimiko’s lashes onto the pillow.

Suguru silently went over to them, sitting by their futon as he laid gentle hands on their little heads. He stroked their hair the way he’d done for Satoru countless times, letting out soothing hums as he shushed them. Relief flooded him when the distressed wrinkles on their faces smoothed out and their cries turned to sleepy snuffles.

Suguru looked down at the sleeping girls, attempting to swallow the growing lump in his throat.

This was his life now.

Chapter Text

The first rays of the morning sun were barely breaking over the horizon when the door slid open.

Suguru shifted so that he was blocking Mimiko and Nanako from view, eyes narrowing at the newcomer.

Surprisingly, it was Sukuna himself, dressed in a new kimono. It didn’t appear as if he’d bothered treating the cuts and bruises he’d gotten from their fight, wearing his wounds without shame in true warrior fashion.

Sukuna tossed something at him, forcing Suguru to catch it. He relaxed when he realized it was his phone.

“If you had any motives toward my group, you didn’t leave any trace of it on this.” Sukuna said, head cocking to the side as he regarded Suguru with a studying look. “Your partner’s been blowing up your phone all night.” He remarked before his lips quirked up in a little grin that had Suguru’s stomach twisting. “Your texts were boring, but the password protected folder in your photos was quite revealing. Seems you and your partner are… close,” he raised a brow.

Suguru took a deep breath, seeing red before he reminded himself there was nothing he could do about what had already happened. He sent his hundredth mental apology to Satoru, this time for having let Sukuna see their private photos.

“Will I be getting my gun back at some point, too?” Suguru asked instead, trying to change the subject so he wouldn’t say anything he’d regret.

“You’ll get it back when you earn it,” Sukuna answered without missing a beat. “Now, get up. Uraume made breakfast before they left and the lieutenants wanna meet you.”

“…and the girls?” Suguru questioned hesitantly. He knew they must be starving, but he also didn’t want to walk them into a room full of yakuza unless absolutely necessary.

“They’ve got to eat, don’t they?” Sukuna scoffed.

Suguru nodded, reaching over to gently shake the girls’ shoulders. “Wake up, you two.” He said, managing to rouse them. “It’s time for breakfast.”

A rush of affection flooded him when Mimiko and Nanako scrunched their noses and rubbed at their eyes as they sat up. Their hair stuck up in all directions, yawning as they blinked up at Suguru.

“Food…?” Nanako mumbled, awareness slow-coming to her after such a deep sleep.

Mimiko registered Sukuna’s presence first, going tense as she gripped at Suguru’s sleeve.

Sukuna crossed his arms. “Let’s go,” he ordered.

Nanako squeaked, nearly jumping out of her skin. Suguru stood, pulling the girls up with gentle tugs on their hands.

“C’mon,” he nudged them forward. The twins obeyed, tightly clasping their hands around Suguru’s as they followed after Sukuna.

Sukuna led them back to the main building, taking them to a side room where there were already people inside. It took less than a second for Suguru to realize they were all dangerous, skin prickling with unease as he made eye contact with Sukuna’s lieutenants.

“Oh? You never told us he has kids, Boss. I love kids!” A man with long gray hair and heterochromia crowed. His skin was littered with thin scars and deeply embedded surgical staples that appeared to be purely cosmetic.

Nanako gave the man a wary look, and Mimiko shuffled so that she was hiding behind Suguru.

“That’s because you’re about as mature as a toddler,” an older man said to him with a scoff. He had prominent burn scars and was wearing an eyepatch, leaning on a cane topped with polished obsidian.

There were two more people in the room, remaining quiet as they kept to themselves. One was tall, with ink not dissimilar from Sukuna’s on their face and body. They had a blackout sleeve with a large, blooming rose on one shoulder. The last person present was harder to make out, all Suguru could tell was that he was a man wearing a big hooded cloak. He could only see the ends of a beard from under the hood, crimson hairs put into impressive braids.

“Ignore him, he’s always grumpy.” The silver-haired man laughed. “I’m Mahito, this is Jougo,” he poked at the old man. “And the shy ones are Hanami and Dagon,” he gestured at the tattooed and hooded lieutenants respectively. “What’s your name?” He questioned, stepping much closer to Suguru than the latter would’ve liked.

The girls pressed together behind Suguru, clinging to him as they attempted to duck out of Mahito’s sight. Suguru took a step back, making sure the twins moved with him, before he answered Mahito.

“Getou,” he said. “You can call me Getou.”

“He’s joining us.” Sukuna cut in, already bored with the introductions. “Now, sit down and start eating before everything gets cold.”

They all went over to the long horigotatsu table, plush black pillows on the floor for everyone to sit seiza on. The table was near the rear of the room, the sliding doors behind them thrown open to let in the morning light.

There were box trays made of rich cherrywood with little compartments for the salmon, tamagoyaki, and pickled vegetables set at every place at the table. Beside the trays were steaming bowls of rice and miso, the wafting aromas mouthwatering and fragrant.

Suguru had Mimiko and Nanako take the end spots, acting as a physical barrier separating them from the other yakuza. Mahito sat next to him, Dagon next to Mahito, Sukuna at the head of the table, and Jougo and Hanami sat across from Suguru and the girls.

Sukuna started to eat first, and the rest of the table followed suit. The twins looked awed at the food, and Mimiko wiped the drool from her mouth. They both turned hopeful eyes onto Suguru, silently asking permission. A pang rang through him that they even felt they had to ask, giving them a little nod to go ahead.

“Where’s Uraume?” Mahito tilted his head as he ate his pickled plum first, spitting out the large seed and dropping it back into his tray.

“Out,” Sukuna answered around a mouthful of rice.

“Yorozu?” Mahito’s head tilted in the opposite direction.

“Out,” Sukuna repeated.

Suguru turned back to his food, trying a little bit of everything. It was delicious, so good it may as well have been professional quality. However, Suguru refrained from eating it all. Instead, he divided the salmon in half before putting it and his remaining tamagoyaki into the girls’ bowls. Giving them his portion wasn’t even a sacrifice. They were growing children, and Suguru would be just fine with rice, pickles, and soup. Hopefully, it would also help distract Mimiko and Nanako from the way everyone was staring at them.

“So, Getou-kun, what did you do before deciding to become a criminal?” Mahito prompted. So far, he’d come off as the particularly talkative type in addition to being overly cheerful.

“Well…” Suguru began hesitantly, not sure how to answer the question. If Sukuna hadn’t even bothered telling them his name, there was no way he would’ve disclosed that Suguru was a detective.

“He was a cop,” Sukuna said bluntly. He didn’t elaborate further, instead bringing his bowl of soup up to his lips and drinking leisurely as he watched his lieutenants bristle.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Jougo exploded, slamming his fists on the table and making his own miso spill out the side of his bowl.

“Boss, are you high?” Mahito chirped, far too flippant considering what he’d just said and to whom he’d said it.

Hanami stared at Suguru with intense eyes while Dagon’s beard braids began to shake with what Suguru assumed was rage.

“What’s done is done.” Sukuna stated with finality, setting his bowl down with a firm thud. “His collateral should be more than enough to keep him from doing anything stupid.” He continued, gaze purposefully falling on Mimiko and Nanako before locking eyes with Suguru.

The girls had been too scared to even turn in Sukuna’s direction, fists clenched in their laps as they stared down at the table with wide eyes. The meaning of Sukuna’s words went over their heads, but Suguru understood his new boss perfectly.

“Yes, it’s just like he said.” Suguru said slowly. “I’ve got a lot to lose if I’m still on the job, which I’m not.” It wasn’t technically a lie. The moment he’d set foot in the orphanage, he’d thrown away his career. The chances of him getting out of this were so slim it was laughable. Suguru’s hopes were drained at this point, down to the last drops of what used to be a full reserve.

The only reason Suguru was even trying anymore was for the girls and the mere possibility that he could make it up to Satoru one day.

“Well, I guess this is going to be interesting then.” Mahito mused, letting the news slide like water off a duck’s back.

“Sukuna-sama may have you let in, but you better watch your step.” Jougo snapped, looking at Suguru as if he was expecting the younger man to do something stupid like whip out his badge and gun and declare them all under arrest.

Dagon still refused to make eye contact while Hanami never took their mistrustful gaze off Suguru for the rest of the meal.

It was a wholly uncomfortable experience, but Suguru was more worried about Mimiko and Nanako. He’d just taken them from one hostile environment and thrown them into another. What if this was just worse for them?

No, Suguru reminded himself, I swore to make things better for them and I will.

When breakfast was over, Sukuna’s lieutenants cleared out quickly, no doubt to go discuss the matter of Suguru and the girls.

“I don’t have anything planned for you today,” Sukuna said when Suguru looked over at him. “Do whatever you want,” he waved a dismissive hand.

“Then…I’ll take Mimiko and Nanako to go shopping. They’re going to need clothes,” Suguru explained. “If that’s okay…” he trailed off.

“You don’t have to ask for permission to leave,” Sukuna rolled his eyes. “I’m not your damn keeper,” he scoffed before his eyes narrowed. “You’d do well to remember this before you try to screw me: I won’t just stop at the brats you picked up. I’ll deal with Gojo Satoru personally, right in front of you before I sever that foolish head from your neck.”

Suguru’s lips thinned, and he lowered said head. “Understood,” he replied in a carefully neutral tone.

As if Suguru needed to be reminded of how high the stakes were.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

The moon was high in the sky and the air was crisp with an almost otherworldly chill when Suguru pulled up to the burned down wreckage. He was both relieved and anxious when he saw no other cars parked out front.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since Suguru had last been here, back when he was just a beat cop partnered up with Satoru. His biggest worry then was making sure Satoru didn’t trip and break a leg while they’d been searching the decrepit building.

He sighed, not bothering to lock his car as he got out and went inside, relying on faint memories to lead him to the stairs that went down to the old bunker.

He slipped inside, shutting the heavy metal door behind him. Yaga had been waiting, immediately turning to face Suguru.

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Yaga spoke. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up.”

“I couldn’t risk anyone seeing you come in after me, so I had to make you wait. I’m sorry,” Suguru bit his lip. “I don’t have much time, so just… listen to what I’m about to tell you and hold any questions till the end, please.”

Yaga stayed silent as Suguru began, his expression growing tenser and tenser as Suguru explained what had happened.

“…I didn’t know if they were reading my texts or checking my call log, but I had to take the chance that they weren’t listening to phone calls. So, when I took the girls to get new clothes, I called Shoko and gave her the message for you to meet me here… Please tell me you brought the files I asked for?” Suguru finally finished.

Wordlessly, Yaga bent down and retrieved the briefcase he’d stashed under the table. He kept his palm flat on top of it as he held eye contact with Suguru.

“You told me everything? You’re not leaving anything out?” Yaga finally spoke, voice not giving anything away.

“Yes.” Suguru nodded, running a hand through his hair. Revealing everything had been uncomfortable and filled Suguru with no small amount of shame for how he’d let himself end up in such a dire situation, but he knew being vulnerable would go a long way with Yaga. “Everything I told you is true,” he swore.

Yaga let out a deep breath, fingers drumming against the briefcase. After a few grueling moments, he opened his mouth.

“You’re going undercover.” Yaga stated, making Suguru’s eyes widen. “Officially, you already briefed me prior to the orphanage. You had an informant tell you that Sukuna was going to be there but not why. Everything else is as you said: you killed Awasaka in self-defense, and Ryoumen came down with the bodies of Ogami and her grandson after he killed them. Given the opportunity, you decided to go undercover in his gang to save your own life and the lives of the two children. Is that clear?” he asked sharply.

“…yes,” Suguru replied quietly.

“Unofficially, you will use the opportunity to keep investigating corrupt officials. You’ll have a lot more mobility and better resources to do so,” Yaga continued. He somehow grew even more serious, lips thinning. “You have to understand… until you gather enough evidence to put Ryoumen and his gang away as well as find everyone who’s dirty, it’d be too risky to pull you out. You’re not just in danger from one threat,” he reminded gravely. “This is an all or nothing op, with no backup whatsoever.”

Suguru knew that, but it still felt like a punch to the gut to hear it from Yaga. It was getting hard to breathe, so he pressed his thumb into the center of his forehead, trying to focus on the point of contact so he wouldn’t lose it in front of his… boss? Father in-law? Suguru’s whole life had flipped on its head and he didn’t even know if he still had the right to call Yaga either of those things.

Yaga’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Suguru flinched, his arms falling to his sides as he looked up at the older man.

“This is the only way,” Yaga said gruffly. “Anything else means we lose you completely, and that is the one thing I refuse to let happen. Not if I can help it, Suguru. You have to promise that you won’t give up,” he demanded.

Suguru took a shaking breath, swallowing the lump in his throat as he ignored the way his eyes began to sting.

“Yeah…” he said roughly. “I promise.”

Yaga relaxed just a little, nodding stiffly. “Good,” he breathed out. “We can’t meet like this again,” he grimaced. “It’s too risky. For now, keep sending updates through Shoko. We’ll figure something else out later.”

“I understand.” Suguru agreed with a frown of his own, hating that he had to get Shoko involved like this.

“You’ve already been here too long.” Yaga clicked his tongue, going back over to the table to grab the briefcase. “You should get going. I’ll leave after an hour, just to be safe.” He said, handing the case to Suguru.

Suguru took it, but he didn’t move from his spot. “How…How’s Satoru?” He whispered, knowing he was pushing it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave without hearing it from Yaga.

The older man leveled him with a look. “How do you think?” he replied blankly. At Suguru’s expression, he sighed. “Bad, Suguru. He’s barely holding it together. He won’t talk to me or Shoko. I had to take measures to keep him from barging into Ryoumen’s compound, because he wanted to go looking for you.”

Suguru bit his lip so hard it reopened his cut, tasting blood. He let out a noise that was between a sob and a laugh, hand going to cover his eyes.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He replied weakly, unable to bring himself to look at Yaga. “I want him to know the truth, but… you’re not going to tell him, are you?” He said bitterly.

“He can’t know.” Yaga confirmed, not sounding any more pleased about it than Suguru was. “They’ll be watching him too to gauge the authenticity of your defection. Anything less than genuine heartbreak, and they’ll figure it out.”

Suguru was quiet for a moment before he let out a derisive scoff. “‘To love and to cherish,’ huh? I feel like the shittiest husband on the planet,” he admitted with no small amount of self-deprecation.

Yaga shook his head, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “And I feel like the world’s worst father. Every time I look at him, I keep seeing the little boy I swore to protect.” He barked out a laugh. “Playground bullies, boyfriends I didn’t approve of, hitmen, a wayward husband, and now… I never thought I’d have to put myself on the list.”

Here they were: two men who loved Satoru more dearly than anything else, and they were going to have to lie to him. Worst of all, they had gotten themselves into a situation where they had to deliberately hurt him.

“I have to go,” Suguru finally decided. “Any longer and I’m worried they might get too suspicious.”

Yaga looked Suguru in the eyes, hand shifting as if he was going to reach out, but in the end, he retracted it, settling on:

“Take care of yourself, Suguru.”

Suguru turned, leaving the bunker and stepping past burnt wood and broken glass until he reached his car. He popped the trunk, placing the briefcase inside.

His gaze slid to the cake box and the wilting bouquet he’d bought Satoru. The cellophane crinkled in his hands as Suguru picked up the flowers, his stomach rolling when the overly sweet scent hit him. He took the cake box as well, looking around before going over to a nearby tree.

He set the items down, fingers trailing over the soft, wrinkling petals of the white and purple blooms.

Suguru straightened, going back to his car and starting it. He stared at the phone icon on his dashboard, the little red dot staring back at him incriminatingly.

He’d already read all of Satoru’s texts, but he hadn’t had the heart to listen to his voicemails just yet. Just reading his husband’s messages was devastating enough, he didn’t know if he’d be able to handle hearing the pain he’d caused Satoru.

However, Suguru had already been far too selfish, and to not listen to the messages would be an even greater disservice to Satoru.

It was also a fitting punishment for the overwhelming guilt that was consuming him, the first of many to come.

So, Suguru started to play the messages from his voicemail as he began to drive.

“Suguruuuuuu, can you pick up some milk and bread from our bakery? We’re almost out, and someone gets cranky when he can’t have his toast in the morning. Hint: it’s not me. I was gonna get them, but I didn’t feel like it, haha. Love you and see you soon~”

“Press one to delete this message, press two to keep this message.”

Beep.

“Message saved. Play the next message?”

Beep.

“Is everything okay? It’s getting late and you’re usually home by now… Call me back so I know you haven’t gotten into a car accident, been kidnapped, are currently dying in an alley, or any of the other worst-case scenarios my brain is coming up with. For your sake, your phone better be dead and you just got caught up in old files again… Stupid Suguru…”

“Press one to delete this message, press two to keep this message.”

Beep.

“Message saved. Play the next message?”

Beep.

“Suguru, this isn’t funny. I’ve called all of our friends and no one knows where you are. I even checked with every hospital in the area to see if anyone with your description had been brought in… I almost had a heart attack when they said a young man with long hair was admitted, but they were able to confirm it wasn’t you. Where are you? Why haven’t you come home yet? I— look, just… just call me back as soon as you can. I’m… I’m worried out of my mind here, Suguru…”

“Press one to delete this message, press two to keep this message.”

Beep.

“Message saved. Play the next message?”

Beep.

“I can’t stop calling you, no matter how much I’m trying not to. Maybe it’s because even when you don’t answer, I still get to hear your voice despite the fact that it’s just a message… If you could call me back, you would’ve by now. I just hope you’re listening to these, because that means you’re still alive to hear them. Just the thought of you hurt or dead somewhere I can’t reach makes me want to throw up… If you’re okay, please let me know. You don’t even have to come home if you don’t want to, just… call me back? Please? …ha, I just had a stupid thought. Wouldn’t it be fucked up if you really were dead? I’m just sitting here pleading to the voicemail of my possibly dead husband not knowing if he’s ever going to get these messages… Prove me wrong, Suguru. Just… Just be okay.”

“Press one to delete this message, press two to keep this message.”

Beep.

“Message saved. Play the next message?”

Beep.

“Suguru, what the hell did you do? Look, we can deal with whatever this is. Just call me. Come home. We’ll figure it out, so please…”

“Press one to delete this message, press two to keep this message.”

Beep.

“Message saved. Play the next message?”

Beep.

“Suguru… I still don’t know what’s going on, but I did what you said and gave Yaga everything. He told me he’s going to handle it and that I should just stay home. He even got Kento and Yuu to babysit me so I can’t leave. It’s not fair. Not after I finally know where you are… Sukuna has to be using you. You…You wouldn’t have done any of this without being coerced. You can’t come home by yourself, so it’s up to me, right? I’m the one who has to save you, but no one’s listening to me! I promise, I’ll figure something out, okay? Just don’t do anything stupid, you understand? Don’t do anything you won’t be able to come back from! There’s still hope… I love you, Suguru. Don’t forget that.”

“Press one to delete this message, press two to keep this message.”

Beep.

“Message saved. All messages have been played.”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

When Suguru returned to the compound, the moon had began to dip, slowly blinking in and out of sight from behind wispy, heather gray clouds.

Uraume walked in moments after him, silent and light on their feet. They didn’t say anything, but Suguru instinctively knew that they had been following him all day.

“Is it too late to bother the boss?” Suguru asked the other, gesturing at his briefcase. “I have something I wanted to show him, but it can wait until the morning.”

Uraume gestured to one of the side buildings. “Check the stone garden, otherwise, you’re on your own.” They answered. Suguru nodded, starting to head in that direction. “I hope you’ve prepared a worthwhile explanation. Sukuna-sama will see through any attempts at deceit.”

When Suguru turned, Uraume had already taken their leave, deeming their conversation over after getting in the last word.

Suguru steeled himself, following the pathway to a semi-hidden stone garden behind the building Uraume had pointed out.

Sukuna was leaning against a wooden support column, the training pants he was wearing allowing him to keep one leg folded under him as the other hung over the edge of the engawa. He had a bottle of sake and a small cup next to him, and he was holding a second cup that appeared laughably miniscule in his large hand.

He almost looked like a painting, the big bold lines of his form awash in pale silver light.

Sukuna’s gaze shifted to Suguru, face shadowed as the moon hid from sight once more.

“I called my friend today.” Suguru began, remaining perfectly neutral as he spoke. “She’s a doctor, and I asked her how I should deal with the severe malnutrition that the girls are suffering from. I’ll spare you the details of what she told me.” While Suguru wasn’t lying, the phone call he’d made was the literal lifeline that had allowed him to slip in the message for Yaga to meet him. Next, he lifted up his briefcase. “This has all of the intel I’ve gathered from my investigations this past year… there may be some files that are of interest to you.” Suguru continued, skin prickling when Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. “I know you don’t trust me yet, but I left the twins here for a reason. If I were going to run or betray you, I would’ve taken them with me.”

Suguru may have been having a hard time reading the other, but one thing he knew for certain was that Sukuna understood how much Mimiko and Nanako meant to him.

The moonlight spilled over them once more, making Sukuna’s cold gaze glow with an almost unnatural brightness.

Finally, Sukuna raised the hand he was drinking with, beckoning Suguru with a finger.

“Show me what you’ve got,” he said.

Suguru nodded, stiff limbs unlocking as he went over to the engawa, setting the briefcase down and opening it. He turned it, sliding it over to Sukuna to let the other man rifle through it as he pleased.

“It took you a long time just to get a single briefcase,” Sukuna commented as he picked up one of the files and looked through it. “Were you feeling lonely?”

“Incredibly.” Suguru answered more honestly than he’d originally intended, and he cleared his throat before he spoke again. “I used that time to… to bury old sentiments. I needed to accept that nothing is going to be the same anymore.”

Sukuna finally looked back at Suguru, taking in the puffiness under his eyes and the tear stains he hadn’t managed to clear away. Sukuna set his sake down, grabbing the bottle and pouring it into both cups. He pointedly slid one toward Suguru.

“Drink,” he ordered.

Suguru picked up the sake, staring down at the clear liquid before looking back at Sukuna. He wordlessly raised it to him before taking a sip, the alcohol burning down his throat. It settled warm and tingly in his empty stomach, and he licked his lip to catch a stray drop.

Sukuna hadn’t taken his eyes off him, mouth hidden behind his own cup. Suguru met his gaze evenly, staring into the face of the evil he was willingly choosing to stand beside.

The moon slipped behind a passing cloud once more, shrouding the garden and its occupants in darkness.

Chapter Text

Two days later, Sukuna had yet to give Suguru any new orders. So, he left the girls to play in an empty part of the compound that was filled with budding bushes and willow trees. Then, he sought out Sukuna, finding the latter in his receiving room.

“I need to see Satoru.” Suguru stated, and Sukuna’s narrowed eyes spoke more than words could. “I have to end it,” Suguru elaborated. “He’s going to try something stupid otherwise, and that’ll mean trouble for us both.”

“It’ll mean trouble for you, Getou. I can handle Gojo just fine.” Sukuna snorted, taking a sip of his genmaicha.

Suguru refrained from grimacing. “Maybe. Besides… this way I can prove that I really am done with that part of my life.”

Sukuna gave Suguru a look, setting his cup down. “Somehow, I doubt you’ll ever be ‘done,’ but it might be entertaining to watch you breakup with him.” He smirked, propping his chin on his fist. “Think he’ll cry?” he mused with a little too much interest for Suguru’s liking.

Suguru’s fingers twitched by his side, and he barely kept them from curling into a fist. His brow nearly furrowed and his mouth was dangerously close to slanting, but he kept his expression smooth as he spoke.

“Sorry if you’re looking forward to it, but Satoru doesn’t cry that easily.” Suguru stated, rising from the table. “I’m going to check on the girls, excuse me.”

After Suguru left the room, he covered his face with his hand, letting his mask fall briefly as his features contorted.

He knew Sukuna was only trying to draw a reaction from him, but he’d still nearly fallen for it. Suguru had to focus on his ire—the protective instincts Sukuna had woken in him, because if he didn’t, he would be consumed by guilt yet again.

Satoru didn’t cry easily, but the one time he’d seen him do so was because of Suguru’s actions. If there was ever a catalyst for Satoru to break down again, one could simply look at everything Suguru had done these past few days.

Selfishly, Suguru prayed that Satoru would hold it together. Not just because he couldn’t bear to see him in tears, but also because he didn’t want anyone else—let alone Sukuna or his people—to see Satoru in such a state.

Suguru pulled himself together, taking a breath before he made his way back to where he’d left Mimiko and Nanako.

“Getou-san!” Nanako called happily, running over to him.

“Play with us.” Mimiko insisted, tugging at Suguru’s hand.

He smiled, his hands practically engulfing their heads as he ruffled their hair affectionately.

“Nothing that involves leaving this area for now. We still don’t know who or what are in the other buildings just yet,” he warned. “Now, what do you two have in mind?” Suguru questioned, crouching down to their level.

Mimiko and Nanako exchanged mischievous looks before they both tapped his cheeks.

“Tag, you’re it!” Nanako squealed before she and Mimiko took off with excited giggles.

Suguru shook his head, unable to contain his growing smile. He rose to his feet, cupping his hands over his mouth as he called out.

“Just wait till I catch you two!”

The peals of laughter that met his ears were the sweetest things Suguru had heard in days.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Despite what he’d told Sukuna, Suguru’s first call wasn’t to Satoru.

There was another person Suguru had to clear the air with, and he knew that once he met with Satoru, all bets would be off.

So, Suguru made his way through Shinjuku to meet Shoko first. He was dressed comfortably in black, with only half of his hair up. He’d worn a face mask, knowing that at the very least there would be a BOLO out for him if not an arrest warrant.

He also knew that he was being watched again. Thankfully not by Sukuna himself, but he’d seen Mahito and Jougo following him a few times so far. There was no doubt his conversations would be closely monitored this time.

Suguru found Shoko in the designated smoking section of the area where he’d told her to meet him. Her cigarette was still unlit, perched between her lips as she leaned back against the railing and stared up at the sky.

“I thought you quit.” Suguru sighed as he approached, pulling his mask down.

Shoko turned to him, expression placid. “Someone just gave me a reason to start up again,” she said bluntly. “You got a light or what, aniki?”

Suguru grimaced, knowing he deserved every dig as he pulled out the cheap lighter he’d bought at the konbini. He’d had the suspicion he might be needing it, and while he didn’t like the fact that Shoko was smoking again—even less so knowing he was the reason—he knew he had no right to try to sway her. Not anymore.

Shoko leaned in when Suguru flicked the lighter on, the end of her cigarette glowing red before settling into a vibrant orange as she took her first inhale.

“Why’d you call me, Suguru?” Shoko questioned, expression perfectly neutral as she stared up at him.

Dragging you into this was the last thing I ever wanted to do. Suguru thought to himself, wondering if Shoko would understand what he couldn’t say just from the look in his eyes.

“You told me before that you’re in my corner,” Suguru said aloud instead. “Do you still feel that way?”

Shoko’s eyes narrowed, and she took another puff of her cigarette before she spoke. “Depends. How much of what they said is true?” she asked.

Suguru rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging lightly. “Well, I’m officially a criminal, if that’s what you heard. I traded in my badge so I can actually make a change instead of slowly killing myself trying to catch them using the rules they set.”

“You’re going to make a change by… joining the most notorious crime group in Tokyo?” Shoko repeated slowly, hoping to make Suguru see how stupid his logic sounded.

Suguru was well aware of how insane his plans were, but it was this or being responsible for Sukuna going after Satoru and the girls if he were to betray him in any way.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Suguru clicked his tongue. “The pressure I’ve been under, the pressure I’m still under… I told you about the girls, Shoko. They’re my priority now. I have to keep them safe.”

Shoko stared at Suguru for what felt like an eternity, searching his features for something. He stared back at her, exuding patience even if his nerves were starting to fray.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened that night, are you?” She finally said, mouth flattening when Suguru stayed silent. “You’re right,” she began, “I don’t understand. Throwing away everything you love like this is either because you’re just that desperate or you’ve changed so much none of us can recognize you anymore.”

“Well… who says it has to be either-or and not both?” Suguru shrugged despite how her words had affected him.

His chest felt empty, as if Shoko had dissected him and scooped out his insides. For some reason, it reminded him of how back when they were in college, she used to joke about studying Suguru’s brain to figure out how his mind worked.

Unbridled, his imagination kept playing out the macabre scene: Shoko rifling through the organs she’d plucked out of Suguru, finding his heart so she could give it to Satoru. Fitting, considering it hadn’t belonged to Suguru for years now.

“How much did you tell Satoru about this?” Suguru questioned after a moment.

“Nothing,” Shoko replied in a clipped tone as she punched in something on her phone before raising it to her ear. “That’s your job, asshole.” She waited a few seconds, taking a drag and letting out a puff of smoke into Suguru’s face. “Satoru? He’s here in Shinjuku. I’m sending you our location, so hurry up.” She turned back to Suguru, eyes sparking brighter than her cigarette. “Fix this, Suguru.”

I can’t. Suguru didn’t say, the words heavy on his tongue.

The look Shoko gave him told him she’d heard him anyway.

“Idiot,” she whispered.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Suguru had to leave Shoko where she was, knowing he couldn’t risk staying in one place for too long, especially with the officers that he’d spotted patrolling.

He wandered around as he stayed relatively out of sight, going down streets and passing shops that he’d gone to on dates with Satoru. Considering how many things he had to worry about, the possibility that Satoru wouldn’t be able to locate him wasn’t one of them.

Ever since they’d met, Satoru had the uncanny ability to sniff out Suguru no matter where he went.

“You know my hunches are never wrong, Suguru.” Satoru had told him when Suguru had finally given in and asked. “And the hunches I get about you? They’re ones I’d never doubt.”

And Suguru had never doubted that Satoru wouldn’t be able to find him. Which was why he wasn’t surprised when Satoru grabbed him, pulling him out of sight into an alley.

Satoru shoved Suguru against the brick, cold hands winding into the fabric of Suguru’s sweater as he pinned him in place, not allowing Suguru any room for retreat.

“Are you fucking crazy walking down the street like that?” Satoru demanded, eyes wild as he stared down at him. “Every cop in Tokyo’s looking for you!”

Suguru felt something in him crack as he looked at Satoru: there were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was even more chaotic than usual. His fingers were trembling despite the white-knuckled grip he had on Suguru, expression raw as if he was just one big, exposed nerve ending.

Suguru wanted nothing more than to break and tell Satoru everything, but he was in too deep and there was too much at stake. He couldn’t afford to be Satoru’s husband right now—maybe never again depending on how this conversation went.

Satoru’s grip loosened a fraction as he stared back at him, going pale as if something on Suguru’s face was scaring him. He bit his lip, mouth setting in a determined line as he retightened his hold on Suguru.

“Every cop including you. There’s a reason I let you find me.” Suguru said after a moment, removing every ounce of emotion from his voice.

Satoru stared at Suguru as if he was trying to find pieces of the man he’d married and realizing he was holding a stranger instead. His gaze dropped down to Suguru’s chest, as if he could see through the dark material at the little black and gold wedding ring. It was heavy, a reminder of everything Suguru had promised and failed to deliver to the man before him.

“I would think so, considering we’re partners.” Satoru’s teeth were gritted, extra emphasis on the one word that stabbed into Suguru’s still bleeding wounds. “You made me your—”

He couldn’t let him say it. It would only give their eavesdroppers ammunition and confirm Sukuna’s suspicions.

“You don’t need to say it,” Suguru muttered as he shook his head. He was trying to spare Satoru in the long run, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to inflict the pain.

Satoru’s eyes were bright as they narrowed in anger, waterline dangerously damp as he glowered at Suguru. Suguru’s nausea threatened to overwhelm him, praying that Satoru’s tears wouldn’t fall. He didn’t know if he would be able to keep his composure if they did.

“Why, Suguru?” Satoru demanded, voice cracking. “Why’d you keep all of this from me? Weren’t we supposed to have each other’s backs? What happened at the orphanage? What justifies all of this?!” He yelled, growing louder and louder with every question, fists tightening as he held onto Suguru with every ounce of strength he had.

Suguru placed his hands atop Satoru’s, the summery heat of his flesh immediately drawn to the latter’s wintery skin. For the first time, Suguru thought it felt wrong. He shouldn’t be the one who ran hot, not with how hollow he’d become. Satoru shouldn’t have to rely on Suguru’s touch to feel warm, because Suguru had no right to be his sun anymore.

Suguru raised his head, forcing himself to remain aloof as he flicked his gaze from their hands to Satoru’s desperate features.

“I just couldn’t sit by and watch them get away with it anymore,” Suguru sighed. “They disgust me, Satoru. Money and power lets people get away with too much. It turns them into monsters. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you see the hatred festering in me. You… You’re the one good thing I’ve got left.”

There was too much honesty in his words, but anything less would have Satoru keep hounding him for answers he couldn’t give. Suguru didn’t let himself show any of the shame he felt, knowing that maybe all of this could’ve been avoided if he’d just swallowed his damn pride and opened up to Satoru earlier.

He’d idolized Satoru in a way. He’d once seen him as his partner, but after their assignment with Riko, all Suguru saw was the person that he needed to protect above all else. He could blame Toji, but it was Suguru who stopped letting Satoru in because he was afraid that the one person he cared about the most would see how broken he’d become. He was afraid his own darkness would taint Satoru, and in the process of doing everything he could to keep him safe, he shut him out instead.

Suguru’s grip tightened on Satoru’s hands, using the bare minimum of force to make him let go. The hurt sound that left Satoru as his expression clouded with confusion was one that would haunt him, already echoing in his ears like divine punishment.

“Suguru, what—” Satoru started to say, clearly trying to understand what was happening but Suguru knew that they were running out of time. He couldn’t afford to draw this out any longer. If he did, he knew he’d slip up and do something stupid—it would only take one mistake for his hands to be stained with more blood.

“The orphanage was the last straw, Satoru.” Suguru cut him off, voice darkening. “You must have heard about his involvement, and I know what you’re thinking… you’re wrong.”

Suguru slowly started to back away, watching as Satoru struggled to breathe, let alone speak. The shadows drew over Suguru’s body like the tendrils of a wraith, pulling him deeper into a world that would never allow them to be together again.

“Suguru, don’t—” Satoru tried to stop him, but it was as if he was frozen in place. He was helpless, only able to watch as Suguru stepped further and further away.

“I joined Ryoumen-kai. If I can’t change things from within the system, then I’m going to go outside of it.” Suguru said with utter finality, driving the last nail into the coffin. “I’m sorry, Satoru. This is how it has to be. Don’t… Don’t come looking for me.”

Suguru took one last look at his husband, the light from the street hitting Satoru from behind and making his hair glow softly like a halo. Satoru had done well, because while there were tears pooled in his eyes, he refused to let them drip down and kiss his cheeks.

Satoru was the most precious thing he’d ever had the privilege of calling his, and now Suguru was letting him go.

Suguru walked off into darkness, turning his back on Satoru.

They weren’t SatoruandSuguru anymore, and it was all Suguru’s fault.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Sukuna was in the courtyard, the top half of his kimono off as he went through his forms. Suguru was willing to wait for him to finish his set, but Sukuna addressed him anyway as he slid from one stance into another.

“Mahito and Jougo tell me you were quite convincing,” Sukuna remarked. “Shame Gojo didn’t cry, so it looks like you were right about that. Surprising he didn’t, considering how you left him. You’re a heartless one, Getou.”

Suguru was already on the edge, the last bits of his restraint ready to splinter apart, and he barely held himself back from snapping.

“Satoru is a persistent one. He can be like a dog with a bone.” Suguru replied, voice neutral. “If I hadn’t made myself clear, it would’ve led to problems down the line.”

Sukuna glanced over at Suguru, briefly studying him. “I suppose we’ll see how effective your words were,” he said. “I don’t care what you do for the rest of the night, but report to me in the morning. I have a job for you,” he ordered.

This was it. This was what Suguru had been waiting for: moving onto jobs meant he was being further insinuated into the group.

“Understood.” Suguru bowed his head before he took his leave. However, instead of heading for the room he shared with Mimiko and Nanako, he went straight to the nearest restroom.

He locked the door behind him, barely making it to the toilet before he threw up. His guts were churning, lungs struggling to take in air as he heaved. He gripped at the seat so hard his knuckles turned white, and he screwed his eyes shut as he tried to hold back his tears.

They made it out anyway, streaming down and dripping off his nose as he shuddered, unable to stop until his stomach was completely purged.

Suguru slid down to the floor, winding his arms around himself to try to stop shaking.

It was too much.

His own guilt and self-hatred were clawing at him, Sukuna’s words were echoing in his head, and every time he shut his eyes, all he could see was Satoru.

He thought of Satoru shutting down, closing everyone else out and bottling everything up because that was how he coped. He didn’t have Suguru to remind him to let it out, to hold him in his arms and be his safe space.

Not when Suguru was the reason for his pain. Not when this was all Suguru’s fault.

Suguru didn’t even allow the memories of Satoru comforting him to come to mind. He didn’t deserve it.

Suguru grimaced, reminded of the fact that his mouth tasted like bile, he was sitting on a dirty bathroom floor, and his face was streaked with tears.

He pulled himself together, flushing the toilet and going over to the sink so he could rinse out his mouth. He splashed his face with water, frowning when he saw how red his eyes looked.

He scrubbed a weary hand over his face, taking a deep breath. He had to compose himself before he went back to the girls. He couldn’t afford to let them see him like this. They needed him to be stable and positive. He was all they had, and now, they were all he had.

Suguru avoided meeting his own gaze in the mirror again, hoping that when he laid eyes on Mimiko and Nanako, his smile would be genuine.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Thankfully, the girls didn’t seem to notice anything amiss with Suguru. They told him about their day and the drawings they’d worked on while he was gone. He nearly teared up again when they showed him the three of them holding hands in artfully rendered colored pencil.

By this point, Suguru had found the kitchen and gotten permission to use it, so he made dinner for himself and the twins. Mimiko and Nanako insisted on helping, so the process took longer but Suguru didn’t mind. He was more than happy to teach them, especially when he saw their confidence building the more he praised them.

Suguru wouldn’t have eaten at all if he had his way, but he didn’t want to worry the girls so he kept his portion light.

“Getou-san, not that it isn’t fun being on vacation, but when are we going back to school?” Nanako questioned halfway into dinner. She looked a little nervous, as if she wasn’t sure if she should’ve asked in the first place.

Suguru stilled, mentally cursing himself for having forgotten something so obvious. Just because they’d been orphans didn’t mean they hadn’t been going to school.

“Soon,” he answered after a beat. “Unfortunately, you won’t be able to go back to your old school anymore.” Because they’d ask too many questions and child services might try to take you away, he didn’t say. “But I’m going to find the best school for you both, okay?” He reassured them.

Mimiko shrugged as she turned her gaze back to her bowl. “That’s fine. We didn’t have any friends there anyway.”

“Yeah, and the teachers sucked.” Nanako huffed, brow furrowed as she huffily ate a bite of rice.

The shattered remains of Suguru’s heart managed to ache anew, broken yet still managing to bleed for the two girls. They’d truly never had anyone who had looked out for them before.

He reached over, patting both their heads and smiling gently at them.

“Like I said, I’ll find something.” He promised. “And I’m sure you’ll make good friends this time.”

Mimiko and Nanako looked a little skeptical but nodded anyway, fully believing Suguru.

He swallowed thickly, realizing once again that he had their implicit, unwavering faith. They had no reason not to rely on him, and that sort of blind trust was as dangerous as it was beneficial. They wouldn’t question him, which would make it easier to protect them, but he was far from perfect and may end up leading them down the wrong path completely.

Suguru turned back to his food, pushing the thoughts away for now. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they would be back to plague him again.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

When it was time to turn in for the night, Suguru helped Mimiko and Nanako take down their bedding.

To his surprise, they placed their futon and Suguru’s right up next to each other. The girls exchanged looks before they peered up at him.

“Is this okay?” Mimiko asked shyly.

Suguru knew he had to tread very carefully. “Is there a reason you want these sleeping arrangements?” he questioned slowly.

Nanako bit her lip, looking hesitant, but when Mimiko nudged her shoulder with her own, she cleared her throat.

“You’ve been sitting up to help us when we have nightmares,” she began quietly. “And then you fall asleep laying on the floor instead of your own bed. Wouldn’t it just be easier if we all slept next to each other?”

Suguru swallowed down the lump in his throat, silently going over to join them. They scooted to either side of the bedding, leaving him a wide berth in the middle.

“Are you sure you wanna share with an old man like me?” Suguru asked half-jokingly, observing how the girls were shuffling almost bashfully.

“Yes!” Nanako squeaked.

Mimiko just tugged at Suguru’s pants, trying to get him to sit down with them. He turned off the lights above them before complying, settling in between the twins.

“Getou-san, we—” Nanako blurted before she cut herself off, blushing. “We wanted to ask… um…”

“What is it?” Suguru prompted lightly. “You two can ask me anything, and I’ll do my best to answer.”

“The headmistress used to say that the only way to leave the orphanage was if someone liked you enough to make you a part of their family,” Mimiko spoke up. “And since you took us away and are looking after us now… does that mean that we’re a family?”

Suguru’s breath caught, trapped between two sets of big brown eyes and earnest, imploring expressions.

Family.

He and Satoru had talked about possibly adopting kids one day when they were older and in a more stable place. It had surprised Suguru how easily Satoru had agreed considering his personality, but Satoru had a certain wistful excitement come over him when they talked about raising children of their own that resonated with Suguru.

Suguru had only known Mimiko and Nanako for less than a week, yet here they were asking if the three of them were a family. It was overwhelming, but he realized that these girls had gone their whole lives with only each other to call home. They’d been waiting for someone to choose them, accept them, love them.

Suguru had chosen them, and he accepted them. He just didn’t know if he loved them yet—he didn’t know if he could ever love anyone the way he loved Satoru—but Mimiko and Nanako were already precious to him.

They were still waiting for his answer, growing anxious the longer he stayed quiet. He reached over, putting his hands on their shoulders as he made sure to hold both their gazes with his own.

“If you’ll accept me, I’d be more than honored to call you my own.” Suguru murmured, smiling softly at the girls.

He wasn’t surprised when their eyes welled over, lips wobbling as they both nodded. He grunted when they attacked him with hugs, but the gasp turned into a chuckle as he embraced them back.

“We do!” Nanako sobbed, tears soaking into Suguru’s sweater.

“You’re our Getou-san…” Mimiko hiccuped, burying her face into Suguru’s chest.

“It’s settled then.” Suguru hummed, patiently patting their backs. This was the first time they’d properly cried since he’d saved them from the orphanage, so he knew how important it was for Mimiko and Nanako to let out their emotions. If it was overwhelming for him, it must’ve been doubly so for the twins.

He thought about Mimiko’s words, considering the next logical term they could call him. He was happy to be their “Getou-san,” but would a time come when he was…?

The girls pulled away, sniffling as they scrubbed at their faces. Suguru clicked his tongue, pulling their hands away before using the sleeves of his sweater to clear the tears off their red cheeks and damp lashes.

“How about we go to sleep? It’s been a long day, and I think we could do with all the rest we can get.” Suguru suggested.

Mimiko and Nanako nodded, with the latter stifling a yawn. Suguru smiled at the endearing sight, shifting to lay down. He was going to scoot over so Mimiko and Nanako could cuddle up with each other like they always did, but they latched onto him instead. They tucked themselves into him, small fists curled into his sweater as they pressed their faces against his sides.

Suguru bit his lip, staring up at the ceiling. Every time he thought he could handle how precious the girls were, they would do something new to make him overcome with affection.

Mimiko let out a content little sigh when Suguru gave in and wound his arms around them. There was a lot of uncertainty ahead of them, but Suguru onto the promise he’d made to the girls—his girls.

Suguru had failed Satoru, he wouldn’t fail Mimiko and Nanako.

“G’night, Getou-san…” Nanako mumbled sleepily.

“Sweet dreams, girls.” Suguru said quietly in return.

Idly, he wondered if he would have time to go to a cyber cafe to look up schools soon. It all depended on what kind of job Sukuna gave him tomorrow…

Chapter Text

Before Suguru knew it, two years had already gone by.

Two years of breaking bones, smuggling weapons, committing and witnessing various criminal acts, rising to the rank of lieutenant (with the tattoo that Sukuna had personally given him to prove it), and pretending to be friendly with people that he wanted to throw into the deepest level of maximum security prison.

Two years of walking his daughters to and from school every day without fail, preparing their lunches, helping them with homework, chasing away nightmares, and making sure to spend time with them so that they could have the best childhood he could provide.

Two years of gathering evidence on Sukuna and the rest of Ryoumen-kai, the corrupt officers and government officials involved in seedy back alley hits and contracts, and realizing that there was an anonymous big fish pulling the strings from the shadows.

Two years of getting periodic messages from Satoru and never being able to reply back, writing secret letters instead and handing them off to Shoko to give to Satoru in case anything ever happened to him, and being anxious after every meeting with Shoko that the information he was passing along to her would be discovered and get her and everyone else he loved killed.

Two years full of regret and heartbreak with his only saving graces being Mimiko and Nanako. He may have rescued them, but they were the ones who kept him from losing himself completely.

Once upon a time, that role used to belong to Satoru.

It was funny how not a day went by where Suguru didn’t think about his estranged husband. His longing was only outmatched by his guilt, wondering how Satoru was doing and if he was raising Toji’s children as his own. Suguru had to remind himself that he didn’t have the right to ask those questions let alone know the answers anymore.

And then, Satoru waltzed right into Sukuna’s compound as if visiting the worst crime boss in Tokyo was nothing more than a walk in the park.

Satoru invited himself into Suguru’s world without so much as a blink, and then he tried to walk right back out without even looking for Suguru.

Suguru knew he should’ve just let Satoru go, but his body moved anyway, lips parting as he called out to the man he used to hang the moon and stars for.

“Yo, Satoru.”

Satoru stilled for a moment before he slowly turned around to face Suguru. He was perfect; just as handsome and utterly stunning as Suguru remembered. Satoru had gotten an undercut—the little hairs at his nape that Suguru used to play with were nowhere to be seen, but the way his snowy strands wisped and fell over his eyes was still as beautiful as ever.

Those celestial blues haunted Suguru, the way they widened and trembled as they took in the sight of him, only to to turn as glacial as their hue when Satoru regained his bearings from Suguru’s surprise appearance.

“Suguru.”

Suguru didn’t realize how much he’d craved hearing the sound of Satoru saying his name until it fell from his lips, soft and sure.

“You know you shouldn’t be here, Satoru.” Suguru clicked his tongue, chest tight as the other’s gaze roved over him, taking stock of all the visible ways Suguru had changed. “I heard how much chaos you caused the last time. The boss will only take so much before he snaps.”

Suguru kept his tone light and casual, disguising how worried he was about Sukuna finally deciding he’d had enough and going after Satoru despite their unspoken agreement.

“Careful, Suguru. It almost sounds like you still care.” Satoru said coldly, gaze stony as he looked down his nose at him.

Suguru deserved this reaction, but that didn’t mean that it still didn’t strike him like a physical blow. He closed off whatever emotion he’d let slip through, responding in kind.

“Force of habit, I suppose.” He said quietly.

I never stopped, and I never will, he thought. He let himself fall victim to the fleeting hope that the wind would carry the words from his heart to Satoru’s.

“Better learn how to break it before it gets you in trouble, Suguru.” Satoru’s lips thinned, breaking their eye contact as he averted his gaze and began to walk off.

Out of all the bad habits Suguru had developed in his life, caring for Satoru past the point of recklessness would never be one he tried to break.

Suguru had heard how hard Satoru was trying to sound toneless and distant, but he hadn’t overlooked the flicker of warmth and hope on Satoru’s face in that one unguarded moment when he’d turned around.

It made Suguru experience the funniest feeling of his heart quickening and his stomach dropping at the thought that Satoru still cared.

Suguru watched Satoru’s back until he was finally out of sight, only able to breathe again once he knew that Satoru wasn’t inside the main quarters of a gang that would love nothing more than to see him dead.

“Getou!” Jougo called for him, hobbling out as quickly as he could with the support of his cane. “Sukuna-sama has ordered you to report to him immediately!”

Suguru checked his watch, grimacing when he realized he only had a couple hours left before he had to pick his girls up from school. Hopefully, whatever Sukuna was about to have him do wouldn’t take too long.

Then again, when Satoru was involved… Suguru had years’ of experience when it came to picking up after his messes to know better.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

“You called, boss?” Suguru greeted as he walked into Sukuna’s receiving room.

Sukuna’s normally bored expression was dark, brow furrowed as his gaze honed in on Suguru.

“Care to tell me why your ex-partner walked in asking about a murder I don’t remember committing?”

Suguru blinked, because out of all the things he’d expected Satoru to have come sniffing around for, this wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

“I would if I knew anything about it,” Suguru answered carefully. “I haven’t seen him in two years, you know that.”

“His last message to you was two months ago,” Sukuna raised a brow.

“And since you still keep track of my communications, you already know it was an email full of drunken rambling. I didn’t reply to it; I never reply to him.” Suguru reminded evenly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sukuna grunted, waving a dismissive hand. “I hope your detective skills haven’t gotten rusty, because I’m making it your job to find out who had the nerve to try to frame me.”

Suguru nodded. “I’ll reach out to my friend then, she may know something.”

Sukuna smirked, the sudden quirk of his lips catching Suguru off-guard. “It’s amusing… you and your ex-partner are going to compete to figure out who the true perpetrator is.” He rumbled. “For once, I’m not sure who’ll come out on top.”

Suguru bowed his head to hide the way his jaw clenched, letting out a measured breath.

“Have I let you down yet?” he said smoothly. “I’ll figure it out, boss.”

“For your sake, I hope you work faster than Gojo.” Sukuna clicked his tongue. “You’re dismissed.”

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Suguru met Shoko in Shinjuku, the same smoking area that he’d called her out to the first time. Thankfully, he hadn’t been followed on his way there. Not that he had been for months now, but he’d been half expecting it considering the nature of the intel he was supposed to get.

“Let me guess,” Shoko said as Suguru lit her cigarette for her, “you’re here about the case Satoru’s working.”

“There’s a reason you were the brains between the three of us,” Suguru smiled.

Shoko blew her first puff of smoke in his face and watched as he coughed. “Don’t try to be cute. You and I both know I didn’t graduate because I actually studied.”

“Yeah, okay, okay…” Suguru muttered as he waved the smoke away. “Did you bring the report?” he asked.

“One prelim autopsy report,” Shoko pulled a file out from under her coat, “that’ll be ¥500,000.”

Suguru clicked his tongue. “That’s pretty steep. No discounts for your closest friend?”

“Sorry, I may have cheated my way through med school but that didn’t do anything about my student loans.” Shoko shrugged.

“How about I trade you, hm?” Suguru smiled, pulling out the latest letter he hoped Satoru would never have to read. Shoko took it and handed him her file with a sigh. “Any details you noticed that you didn’t put in here?” He prompted as he tucked it into his jacket.

“Not really,” Shoko shrugged again. “Seems consistent with Sukuna’s prior vics.”

Suguru shook his head. “I wasn’t with him last night, but he implied that he didn’t do it. Sukuna’s never been shy about alluding to his kills before, and he seemed pretty pissed that it happened under his nose. Honestly, I think he’s telling the truth and didn’t have anything to do with this.” He admitted.

“You trust him?” Shoko questioned, exhaling a little cloud of smoke.

“About as far as I can throw him,” Suguru snorted.

Shoko was quiet for a long moment, shifting slightly as she twirled a long lock of brown hair around her finger.

Suguru knew that was never a good sign, especially for him.

“Suguru…it’s been two years.” Shoko began, slow and careful like she was trying not to spook him—as if he was nothing more than a nervous prey animal that would bolt at the slightest hint of danger. “I think it’s time to let Satoru in,” she finally dropped the bomb.

Suguru immediately tensed, mouth flattening. “Shoko,” he said lowly.

“Listen,” she tried again, “you said it yourself last time, they haven’t been watching him. I can tell him, and maybe—”

“Shoko.” Suguru repeated, firmer than before.

She stopped, brow drooping as she dropped her gaze. “…fine. I won’t tell him,” she huffed. “If you tell me why you’re so insistent on this. And don’t give me a line about being worried for his safety. I know it’s because of something else.” She demanded, eyes flinty as she looked back at Suguru.

It was his turn to look off to the side, anywhere but at her searching gaze. It took him a few moments to answer her.

“I…I miss the days when Satoru was my everything. I took so much for granted—it’s no one’s fault but my own that I ended up here.” Suguru said quietly, chewing on his lip before he decided to continue. “Even if I complete this assignment, there’s no reasonable expectation that Satoru will love me anymore, let alone take me back.”

“Suguru…” Shoko sighed.

“And as much as it pains me to think this… part of me hopes he does hate me.” Suguru barreled on, clutching at his own shirt. “If Satoru hates me, then he isn’t bearing the burden of loving me after everything I put him through.”

Things became still between Shoko and Suguru, a bubble of silence that blocked out the ambient noises of the world around them.

“He still loves you, you know.” Shoko finally said, gaze casted at the ground.

“Did he tell you that himself?” Suguru asked bluntly.

“We don’t talk,” Shoko admitted with a grimace. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Even someone who’s blind could see his feelings haven’t changed.”

“There’s no way of knowing for sure since he hasn’t told you,” Suguru stated with finality. “If he does hate me, it’s justified—finding out about me would just hurt him and make him feel guilty. On the slim chance you’re right, it’s even worse.”

“How do you suppose that?” Shoko demanded. “What possible line of thinking made you come to this conclusion?”

“Because,” Suguru began hoarsely, “Satoru would have to carry on knowing there’s nothing he can do about us because my original assignment still stands. I’ve got more than enough to put Ryoumen-kai and most of the corrupt officials away, but I still don’t know who the real kingpin behind all this is.”

Shoko fell quiet once more, and it took two drags of her cigarette before she found her voice again.

“This kingpin,” Shoko thankfully changed the subject, “what do you know about them?”

Suguru rubbed his temple wearily. “I didn’t even know they existed until a little while ago. They’re meticulous about keeping their identity a secret, and they’ve left no trace whatsoever… Though, I have noticed that there’s a noticeable difference when things involve Ryoumen-kai. I can’t describe it just yet, but my gut says to dig into the gang’s history.”

Shoko let out a snort, lips twitching up in amusement. Suguru stared at her, in disbelief that she was laughing at a time like this.

“Sorry, sorry… it’s just you and Satoru both,” she chuckled. “‘My gut says do this,’ or ‘my gut says look into that,’” she quoted. “Your bad habits have rubbed off on each other, you know.”

This was the second time Suguru had gotten called out on his habits, and of course both instances had to involve Satoru in some way.

“Well, we were partners after all.” Suguru hummed, lighthearted tone belying the ache in his chest as he said it. “Enough about me. How’re you doing? How’s Utahime?” he prompted.

Shoko let out a casual puff of her cigarette. “I think she’s going to leave me.”

Suguru winced, knowing he’d just stepped in it. “Shoko…” he said lamely, not knowing how to continue.

“She used to come visit from Kyoto every other week, now I’m lucky if I see her once a month.” Shoko shrugged, eyes faraway. “I went to see her a couple times, but…”

“Shoko, I’m sorry.” Suguru sighed, reaching over to lay a hand on her shoulder.

“She said I don’t talk to her anymore, and that she can only handle being shut out so many times.” Shoko let out a bitter laugh. “I watched you do this shit to Satoru and now I’m doing it to Utahime. How am I supposed to be honest with her, Suguru? You’re the only one who I can talk to. I’d feel bad about venting to you, but if I don’t, I think I’ll actually just stop caring all together.”

Suguru froze, heart plummeting to the ground. His mouth was dry, stunned into silence. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this better.

“So, that about sums up how I’m doing.” Shoko put out her cigarette, flicking it into the trash. “Thanks for asking, Suguru. I’m gonna go back to work now. See you next time.”

Suguru’s hand fell from her shoulder, watching morosely as she turned on her heel and clicked off into the crowd.

✧•✧•✬•✧•✧

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

His heart was pounding, thundering against his ribcage as he hurried down the stairs and into the dimly lit passageway. He kept trying his radio, but it wasn’t working, his frustration making him nearly toss the damn thing.

Every step further was getting harder and harder to take knowing what he was leaving behind—who he’d just abandoned. It took everything he had not to turn around and go back upstairs.

“Getou-san, are you sure Gojo-san’s going to be alright?”

Suguru looked down, nearly struck in place by the deep cobalt blues of Riko’s eyes as she stared up at him with worry. Misato was tugging on her hand, trying to get her to keep going.

This was wrong. They shouldn’t be here.

“I trust him,” Suguru said calmly. “Come on, we need to keep going. The sooner we get to the inner chamber, the better.”

Riko bit her lip, gaze shadowing as she turned around and began to move forward again. Her shoulders were shaking, but her steps didn’t falter. Misato was looking ahead, but her eyes would inevitably fall back on Riko, tracing over her form as if she knew it was going to be the last time she had the chance.

Suguru kept them both ahead of him, hoping he would be enough of a shield in the unlikely event that someone did come up behind them. However, what he was counting on was the probability that Satoru would soon join them.

They reached a small room that split off into more pathways, but they were forced to pause when Misato came to stop.

“Riko-sama, this is as far as I go.” Misato said haltingly, hands clasped in front of her as she looked down at her feet. Even in the low lighting, Suguru could see glints of wetness in the corners of her eyes. “Riko-sama, please… please…” she choked up.

Riko closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, arms wrapping around Misato’s neck as she let out a trembling breath.

“Kuroi, I love you!” Riko blurted through her own tears, eyes squeezed shut as she held her only family as close as she could. “I always have and I always will!”

Misato’s tears finally fell as she cradled the back of Riko’s head, hugging the younger girl back. “Me, too!” She sobbed. “I love you, too!”

Suguru watched them, unable to keep the pity off his face as he let them have this final moment. He thought about the last time he told Satoru he loved him. It had been just before they’d started their assignment, the words breathed into Satoru’s hair as he slept because the two of them were still shy about saying it aloud.

He should’ve told him when he was awake.

Suguru clenched his fist, resolving to tell Satoru again the first chance he got.

Misato cupped Riko’s cheeks, laying a kiss on her forehead as she brushed away the younger’s tears. “Go now, Riko-sama. We’ll meet again one day,” she whispered.

Riko bit her lip, nodding fiercely as she held back a hiccup. She turned to Suguru, expression determined.

“Don’t worry, Getou-san. I’ll point Gojo-san in the right direction once he makes it here.” Misato sent him a watery smile.

Satoru wouldn’t need directions—he’d memorized the layout of the underground tunnels the first day they’d received this assignment, but Suguru knew it was Misato’s way of trying to reassure him, so he just smiled back.

“Since I’m sure he’ll forget his manners: thank you. I’ll see you when I return,” he said softly.

He proceeded to lead Riko down the next tunnel, the space surrounding them filled with unspoken words and the sound of their shoes clicking against stone.

Something wasn’t right. They needed to turn back.

Suguru and Riko reached the main underground chamber, in awe of how spacious and otherworldly it was. There was a set of stairs not too far from them and a pathway that led to the final room where Tengen stayed.

“So, this is…” Riko took it in, eyes shadowing.

“Yes, down there is where you’ll find Tengen-sama. Once you go in, you can start the ceremony right away.” Suguru answered, observing the grim look on Riko’s face. “That… or we can turn around and go home with Kuroi-san.”

Riko froze before she slowly turned and peered up at Suguru in shock. “…huh?”

“When we were first given this assignment, our sergeant emphasized how important it was to protect you.” Suguru began. “He was talking about the star plasma vessel who was going to be the next High Priestess, but Satoru and I knew who he really meant was you: Amanai Riko… a girl who should be allowed to decide her own fate.” He continued, a smile growing on his lips as Riko’s eyes got wider and wider. “Satoru and I already talked it over before we met you,” he revealed. “We’re the best. So, no matter what you choose, we’ll protect your future.”

The line of Riko’s mouth wobbled before her expression evened out. “I’ve… I’ve always been special from the moment Tengen-sama picked me out. Growing up, everyone kept telling me I was different, so being special was normal to me. I lived my life trying to avoid danger as much as possible just for the sake of making it to this day, to making it here.”

A pang of sympathy rang through Suguru, hating that his and Satoru’s initial theory of Riko not having any autonomy ended up being true after all.

“I don’t really remember when my mother and father died.” Riko continued, trying her best to look unaffected. “I don’t even feel lonely or sad about it anymore. I figured everything would be fine, even if I was taken away from everyone to become something bigger than myself. That no matter how hard it was, it would stop feeling sad and lonely one day.”

Once again, Suguru’s heart went out to Riko, watching as her placid expression finally began to crumple, lips trembling as tears pooled in her ocean eyes.

“But I… I just want to be with everyone!” Riko sobbed, her hands coming up to start wiping at her cheeks as the tears began to stream down her face. “I want to go all sorts of places with the people I love! I want to see all kinds of things and be allowed to do more!”

Suguru’s smile was gentle and warm, proud to bear witness to Riko finally making her first decision for herself. He reached out, ready to take her away from it all so he could reunite her with Misato.

“Let’s go home, Riko-chan.” Suguru urged softly. He could already picture Satoru and Misato’s reactions, the relief that would flood their faces when they laid eyes on Riko and Suguru and just know.

Riko sniffled, wiping at her face one last time. Her eyes crinkled, a bright smile making its way onto her lips as she stretched her hand out to take Suguru’s.

No, no, no, no, no! It was already too late!

“Yeah!” She breathed gratefully, and Suguru treasured the sight of her as she was in that moment: precious and ephemeral.

BANG!