fic - Johnny's and Associates - Like Flowers Blooming
Title: Like Flowers Blooming
Author: virdant
Length: 1318 words; one-shot
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, gen
Pairing: None
Summary: Kame's favorite way to leave notes is through brightly-colored post-its.
Warning: Implied Character death.
Notes: Side Story in hitman!au, please read The Choices We Make first.
Like Flowers Blooming
The first time goes like this.
Akanishi won’t shut up. They’ve been arguing for hours already, and even though Koki’s no longer protesting and Ueda has nothing to say, Akanishi won’t shut up. He’s insisting that Kame’s not fit for duty anymore, not after his foray into the “real world” as an “upstanding citizen of the law.”
“I haven’t changed,” Kame snaps back, and Taguchi snaps his mouth shut to say that he has, he wouldn’t have done that months ago, but there’s something in Kame’s eyes that make him stop. He’s never been good at reading the situation, but he can see something’s wrong.
Ueda pushes Akanishi and Kame apart, hands firm. “That’s enough,” he says, but there’s something dark and ugly in his voice, and Taguchi knows that Ueda’s seen how Kame’s changed too.
It’s Koki that fixes things. He reaches forward, slings an arm around Kame and sings into his ear, “Kame’s back now, alright? That’s all that matters.”
Kame subsides, but Akanishi snorts and whirls, turning his back to the rest of them.
“Akanishi,” Ueda says quiet but firm.
Kamelifts his head. “No. Don’t bother.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a fistful after fistful of crumpled post-its in neon colors. “It’s fine.” He drops them on the table, and they fall like snow, scattering across the dull wooden surface.
The table blooms with information, lying scattered in crumbled fistfuls of color. Ueda nods, pulls a chair up to the table and starts smoothing them out, one by one. Taguchi follows him, taking in the assortment of information that Kame’s brought back.
Kame doesn’t look at anybody as he mutters, “I’d like to keep the pink ones private.”
Koki reaches for one. “What’s written in them?” he asks.
Akanishi drops a pink post-it in front of Ueda, and it flutters in the air for a second before Ueda snatches it. Akanishi’s face is dark when he hisses, “So you and Yamapi.”
Ueda hands Kame the post-it, not looking at the contents.
Kame’s hands shake when he takes it. “Yes,” he says quietly. He reads the note, and then places it in front of Ueda. “For you,” he says. He looks at Akanishi squarely. “For all of you.”
Ueda reads it and nods. “Thank you,” he says. “You’ve worked hard. Go rest.”
Kame nods and walks away. Akanishi follows him, not leaving with Kame, but rather following him. Watching him. Making sure that Kame’s here to stay and not about to run away and rat them out to the police.
“What does it say?” Koki asks, nodding towards the post-it.
Taguchi picks it up and reads:
Let’s do our best, together. ♥
*
There’s probably a second time, but it’s more likely that there is no distinct second time, but simply a overarching next time.
Ueda gets the password to Commissioner Yamashita’s personal email on a blue post-it one day. It’s blank except for the letters T47kj0MaN in blue ink. Ueda thinks it’s a prank Jin’s playing on the whole group before he remembers telling Kame about wanting to know Yamashita’s email password last night.
He types it into the mail service that everybody in the police uses. The system rejects his password, and Ueda’s about to crumple the post-it before he decides to simply stick it on the side of his monitor and wait to see what it might actually be.
There’s a yellow post-it on his desk the next day. In Kame’s neat handwriting, it says yamapi@excite.co.jp.
When Ueda asks Kame about it, Kame just shrugs. Behind Ueda, Koki wants to know why Kame just left him two guns with a green post-it note of: Taken from Tegomass, they’re all yours, attached and Akanishi’s avoiding Kame’s eyes while crumbling a orange post-it.
Taguchi slides a pink post-it from his pocket and hands it to Kame. The note on it is in Kame’s handwriting, and Kame faces Taguchi’s eyes squarely when Taguchi holds it out.
“What does this mean?” Taguchi asks, smiling because that’s the only way he knows how to make light of the situation.
Kame glances at the post-it. “Nishikiori Kazukiyo’s our first target.” He doesn’t smile back.
Taguchi nods. “Alright,” he says agreeably, tucking the post-it into his pocket. It only has a name written on it, but Kame’s made the meaning of that perfectly clear.
Ueda asks, “Why?”
Kame shrugs a little, hunching in on himself before walking out.
The next day, as Taguchi gathers his guns and tucks a knife into his boot (a birthday present from Kame years ago when they were just starting), Kame knocks on his door and offers him an orange post-it.
Be careful, please.
Nishikiori’s suggesting economic reforms that would set back our preparations three years.
Taguchi nods. “Alright,” he says agreeably. He doesn’t know why Kame won’t say anything important these days, leaving them on pieces of brightly-colored paper instead, but he won’t pry.
Prying would only lead to more post-its, stacked one atop of another perfectly. Blank.
He’s seen them on Akanishi’s desk.
*
It never ends, but it does fade away.
After a few months, Kame starts talking again. About important stuff. About the fact that he thinks they need to start recruiting more, about how Taguchi and Akanishi need somebody to keep an eye on them when they’re out, because they’re going to get caught soon, he saw Kato Shigeaki at the scene of Nakatani Ryo’s murder.
Ueda assigns him to backup, and Kame starts hacking into the traffic cameras all along the streets. Before long, can see almost every intersection of Japan from his computer.
Kame leaves a trail of post-its around everybody’s workspace. Blue ones. Pink ones. Orange ones. Green ones. Purple ones. Sometimes, he even leaves yellow ones where Akanishi usually sits, or between the pages of Akanishi’s favorite magazine.
Koki read a few once, but all it said was: clean up your own messes and I can’t keep fixing your problems.
One day, a blue post-it of: he’s heading to the alleyway now finds its way onto Junno’s desk, and Junno passes it to Ueda on his way to the shooting range. It’s not his business, Kame writes the names of the people he’s to kill in pink and other messages-stay healthy, shoot straight, I never betrayed you I swear-in orange.
*
This is how it started.
Kiritani Shuji looked uncomfortable as he sat next to Yamashita, fiddling with the edge of his uniform shirt. He was new, and Yamashita didn’t know how to make his new partner feel more comfortable; he was used to working with Toma who had been transferred to another district along with a promotion.
“Hey,” Yamashita said. “Relax, alright?”
Kiritani shrugged, face pale and drawn. Yamashita couldn’t really blame him; transferring to a new district had to suck, and apparently he had lost most of his squad in a recent bombing too.
“So you have a girlfriend?” Yamashita asked, trying to cheer him up. He racked his brains for Kiritani Shuji’s file, which was patchy in ways only a new recruit could cause. “I bet she’s pretty.”
Kiritani shook himself a little. “Had,” he said carefully. He blinked rapidly, looking small and uncomfortable despite the fact that an hour ago, in front of Commissioner Nakai, he had been comfortable and confident. “We broke up when I transferred here.” He twisted a thread around his fingers.
“Oh.” Yamashita blinked. “Well, uh.”
There wasn’t much to say, and the two of them sat in uncomfortable silence.
The next day, Kiritani Shuji found two post-its on his locker.
You shouldn’t fiddle with your shirt, you’ll get in trouble.
and
Let’s do our best, together ♥
End.
Masterlist of fandoms here
Masterlist of Jpop fanfiction here
Author: virdant
Length: 1318 words; one-shot
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, gen
Pairing: None
Summary: Kame's favorite way to leave notes is through brightly-colored post-its.
Warning: Implied Character death.
Notes: Side Story in hitman!au, please read The Choices We Make first.
Like Flowers Blooming
The first time goes like this.
Akanishi won’t shut up. They’ve been arguing for hours already, and even though Koki’s no longer protesting and Ueda has nothing to say, Akanishi won’t shut up. He’s insisting that Kame’s not fit for duty anymore, not after his foray into the “real world” as an “upstanding citizen of the law.”
“I haven’t changed,” Kame snaps back, and Taguchi snaps his mouth shut to say that he has, he wouldn’t have done that months ago, but there’s something in Kame’s eyes that make him stop. He’s never been good at reading the situation, but he can see something’s wrong.
Ueda pushes Akanishi and Kame apart, hands firm. “That’s enough,” he says, but there’s something dark and ugly in his voice, and Taguchi knows that Ueda’s seen how Kame’s changed too.
It’s Koki that fixes things. He reaches forward, slings an arm around Kame and sings into his ear, “Kame’s back now, alright? That’s all that matters.”
Kame subsides, but Akanishi snorts and whirls, turning his back to the rest of them.
“Akanishi,” Ueda says quiet but firm.
Kamelifts his head. “No. Don’t bother.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a fistful after fistful of crumpled post-its in neon colors. “It’s fine.” He drops them on the table, and they fall like snow, scattering across the dull wooden surface.
The table blooms with information, lying scattered in crumbled fistfuls of color. Ueda nods, pulls a chair up to the table and starts smoothing them out, one by one. Taguchi follows him, taking in the assortment of information that Kame’s brought back.
Kame doesn’t look at anybody as he mutters, “I’d like to keep the pink ones private.”
Koki reaches for one. “What’s written in them?” he asks.
Akanishi drops a pink post-it in front of Ueda, and it flutters in the air for a second before Ueda snatches it. Akanishi’s face is dark when he hisses, “So you and Yamapi.”
Ueda hands Kame the post-it, not looking at the contents.
Kame’s hands shake when he takes it. “Yes,” he says quietly. He reads the note, and then places it in front of Ueda. “For you,” he says. He looks at Akanishi squarely. “For all of you.”
Ueda reads it and nods. “Thank you,” he says. “You’ve worked hard. Go rest.”
Kame nods and walks away. Akanishi follows him, not leaving with Kame, but rather following him. Watching him. Making sure that Kame’s here to stay and not about to run away and rat them out to the police.
“What does it say?” Koki asks, nodding towards the post-it.
Taguchi picks it up and reads:
Let’s do our best, together. ♥
*
There’s probably a second time, but it’s more likely that there is no distinct second time, but simply a overarching next time.
Ueda gets the password to Commissioner Yamashita’s personal email on a blue post-it one day. It’s blank except for the letters T47kj0MaN in blue ink. Ueda thinks it’s a prank Jin’s playing on the whole group before he remembers telling Kame about wanting to know Yamashita’s email password last night.
He types it into the mail service that everybody in the police uses. The system rejects his password, and Ueda’s about to crumple the post-it before he decides to simply stick it on the side of his monitor and wait to see what it might actually be.
There’s a yellow post-it on his desk the next day. In Kame’s neat handwriting, it says yamapi@excite.co.jp.
When Ueda asks Kame about it, Kame just shrugs. Behind Ueda, Koki wants to know why Kame just left him two guns with a green post-it note of: Taken from Tegomass, they’re all yours, attached and Akanishi’s avoiding Kame’s eyes while crumbling a orange post-it.
Taguchi slides a pink post-it from his pocket and hands it to Kame. The note on it is in Kame’s handwriting, and Kame faces Taguchi’s eyes squarely when Taguchi holds it out.
“What does this mean?” Taguchi asks, smiling because that’s the only way he knows how to make light of the situation.
Kame glances at the post-it. “Nishikiori Kazukiyo’s our first target.” He doesn’t smile back.
Taguchi nods. “Alright,” he says agreeably, tucking the post-it into his pocket. It only has a name written on it, but Kame’s made the meaning of that perfectly clear.
Ueda asks, “Why?”
Kame shrugs a little, hunching in on himself before walking out.
The next day, as Taguchi gathers his guns and tucks a knife into his boot (a birthday present from Kame years ago when they were just starting), Kame knocks on his door and offers him an orange post-it.
Be careful, please.
Nishikiori’s suggesting economic reforms that would set back our preparations three years.
Taguchi nods. “Alright,” he says agreeably. He doesn’t know why Kame won’t say anything important these days, leaving them on pieces of brightly-colored paper instead, but he won’t pry.
Prying would only lead to more post-its, stacked one atop of another perfectly. Blank.
He’s seen them on Akanishi’s desk.
*
It never ends, but it does fade away.
After a few months, Kame starts talking again. About important stuff. About the fact that he thinks they need to start recruiting more, about how Taguchi and Akanishi need somebody to keep an eye on them when they’re out, because they’re going to get caught soon, he saw Kato Shigeaki at the scene of Nakatani Ryo’s murder.
Ueda assigns him to backup, and Kame starts hacking into the traffic cameras all along the streets. Before long, can see almost every intersection of Japan from his computer.
Kame leaves a trail of post-its around everybody’s workspace. Blue ones. Pink ones. Orange ones. Green ones. Purple ones. Sometimes, he even leaves yellow ones where Akanishi usually sits, or between the pages of Akanishi’s favorite magazine.
Koki read a few once, but all it said was: clean up your own messes and I can’t keep fixing your problems.
One day, a blue post-it of: he’s heading to the alleyway now finds its way onto Junno’s desk, and Junno passes it to Ueda on his way to the shooting range. It’s not his business, Kame writes the names of the people he’s to kill in pink and other messages-stay healthy, shoot straight, I never betrayed you I swear-in orange.
*
This is how it started.
Kiritani Shuji looked uncomfortable as he sat next to Yamashita, fiddling with the edge of his uniform shirt. He was new, and Yamashita didn’t know how to make his new partner feel more comfortable; he was used to working with Toma who had been transferred to another district along with a promotion.
“Hey,” Yamashita said. “Relax, alright?”
Kiritani shrugged, face pale and drawn. Yamashita couldn’t really blame him; transferring to a new district had to suck, and apparently he had lost most of his squad in a recent bombing too.
“So you have a girlfriend?” Yamashita asked, trying to cheer him up. He racked his brains for Kiritani Shuji’s file, which was patchy in ways only a new recruit could cause. “I bet she’s pretty.”
Kiritani shook himself a little. “Had,” he said carefully. He blinked rapidly, looking small and uncomfortable despite the fact that an hour ago, in front of Commissioner Nakai, he had been comfortable and confident. “We broke up when I transferred here.” He twisted a thread around his fingers.
“Oh.” Yamashita blinked. “Well, uh.”
There wasn’t much to say, and the two of them sat in uncomfortable silence.
The next day, Kiritani Shuji found two post-its on his locker.
You shouldn’t fiddle with your shirt, you’ll get in trouble.
and
Let’s do our best, together ♥
End.
Masterlist of fandoms here
Masterlist of Jpop fanfiction here