Chapter Text
The atmosphere in the information room was particularly stifling—not because of the heat, but because of the intense tension that had built up to the point where anyone who entered would instantly feel their lungs constricting. Each screen flickered with live streams, data, encrypted messages from communications across the city, the sudden onslaught of blue light causing him to instinctively rub his temples. The light from dozens of screens, large and small, which served as the only light source in the room of just under 10 square meters, dyed the dark walls with mottled patches of blue and white, casting shadows on stacks of files, scattered coffee cans, and tangled charging cables he tried to avoid tripping over.
This scene was not unfamiliar, yet he unconsciously wondered how anyone could survive in these conditions.
At the center of it all was Hiori Yo, his eyes glued to three screens simultaneously—a seemingly impossible feat, but one he truly possessed, Bachira had already verified. His fingers flew across the keyboard—tracking IP addresses, cross-referencing databases, filtering metadata from intelligence. He didn't even blink. The dark circles under his eyes and the tiny blood vessels said it all: he'd been here since last night. Probably even longer. The record was two weeks straight.
Reo Mikage entered the room. Dressed impeccably despite the clock striking 3 a.m., he glanced quickly at the printed report with an expression that couldn't be more grumpy. His jaw tightened as his eyes scanned the paper, which was straining under the surprisingly strong grip of someone who usually just did office work.
"This is the third delay this week," Reo muttered, flipping through the pages more forcefully than necessary. Hiori swore he heard the paper *creak*, he must be hallucinating. "If this old man keeps delaying the contract, we'll be encroaching on the Shibuya project. And that damn thing is already a nightmare for logistics."
Hiori nodded slightly, a gesture more of self-defense against impending wrath than agreement, his eyes glued to the screen. "I've already reported it. I sent the updated schedule to Y/n and Isagi twenty minutes ago. Still no response."
"Of course not," Reo sighed, decisively tossing the report out of reach before changing his mind about eating it for breakfast. "Isagi is probably locked in his office doing… God only knows what. And Y/n—" He stopped, glancing at the door. "—She's probably torturing herself with paperwork again. She never reads text messages unless you call the emergency number two and a half times."
A sharp ding sound came from somewhere in the pile of constantly flashing screens.
Hiori's expression changed. "1 minute." His fingers skillfully glided across the keyboard. A new window appeared; Reo could only tell which window it was when he followed Hiori's gaze—an encrypted message, from one of Chigiri's disposable phone numbers.
[CHIGIRI - 03:42 AM]
"Target confirmed. Behavior matches intelligence. Uploading photos. Requesting approval for long-term surveillance."
Hiori's expression remained unchanged.
"Chigiri?" Reo asked.
"Yes. He's investigating the Nakamura case. Wants to continue monitoring."
Reo thought for a moment, then nodded. "Approve it. But remember to remind him to change positions every two hours. There are a lot of cameras in that area."
Hiori typed quickly, sent the reply, then leaned back in his chair and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"You should go to sleep," Reo said, but the words were more of an end to the conversation than a reminder.
"Almost there. After the roll call."
"It's at 6 o'clock."
"I know."
Reo shook his head but said nothing. He knew better than anyone that there was no need for further advice. That's just how things were here. Everyone was always in a state of 'one misstep and you'd be hospitalized for two months,' surviving only on caffeine, adrenaline, and the tense acceptance that one mistake could cost you your life.
A knock broke the silence.
Both of them turned around.
"Come in." Reo's voice rang out.
The door creaked open, and a young staff member, one of Hiori's assistants, poked his head in, his face showing undeniable anxiety.
"Um, Captain Reo, Hiori... I'm so sorry to interrupt, but—"
"Speak quickly," Reo said, trying to sound unfrustrated.
"There are some problems in the training room... Captain Bachira and Kunigami—"
A loud *CRASH* echoed from somewhere down the hallway, startling the young man, followed by a scream that echoed through the silent corridor.
Reo closed his eyes.
"...I want to die."
Hiori didn't even react. He just continued typing.
Reo pushed himself up from his desk, adjusted his collar, and walked toward the door. "Let me handle this. You—" he pointed at the young man, "—stay here and support Hiori."
"Y-yes, sir!"
As Reo's figure disappeared behind the door, Hiori gave a small smile.
"This place is never short of interesting," he muttered to himself.
---
TRAINING ROOM - 3:50 AM
The scene that greeted Reo was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, nothing out of the ordinary for anyone.
Bachira Meguru was sitting on one of the training dummies, grinning hysterically as he twirled a razor-sharp knife in his hand like a plastic toy. His hair was still the same, a tangled mess, his smile never fading, and his mischievous glint in his eyes made Reo's blood pressure spike.
"Let's continue, Kunigami! One more time! I almost beat you last time!"
Kunigami Rensuke, on the other hand, looked as if he'd just been dragged out of bed, which was probably true. His orange hair hung down, obscuring his eyes, but his body was clearly more alert than ever. He stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his temples. His expression was the perfect blend of 'I'm about to faint' and 'if I don't faint, you'll be, and I'll even give you 20 meters of dirt as a bonus.'
He wiped his face with the back of his hand and glared at Bachira. "You didn't almost. You slipped and knocked over the tool rack."
"Forget the details!"
Reo entered the room, and they both froze.
"Reo-san!" Bachira chirped, jumping down from the dummy with incredible agility.
"Do you want to join? We're practicing our reflexes!"
"At four in the morning."
"Why not!" Bachira grinned.
Too tired of explaining that bees and humans clearly live on two different biological clocks.
"I tried to stop him. He wouldn't listen."
"Surprisingly," Reo said sarcastically. He turned to Bachira, who was still grinning as if waking a colleague up at 4 a.m. was a daily routine for any Japanese person.
"Bachira. You have three hours to complete. If you can't finish it just because you didn't get enough sleep, I'll put that in my report."
Bachira's smile faded. "Oh? That's terrible, Reo."
"Then get out. Go. To sleep."
For a moment, Bachira was about to argue—but Kunigami's tired gaze stopped him just in time.
"Alright," Bachira groaned, adding a few other purely for showy sounds, before tossing the knife across the room onto a nearby bench. "But only because Kunigami looks like he's about to faint."
"Not at all," Kunigami mumbled.
"You both are about to faint," Reo said decisively, ending the budding argument. "Go to sleep. Right now."
Bachira pouted but obediently followed, skipping toward the door. Kunigami followed, slower, his breathing still unsteady.
As he passed Reo, Bachira leaned in and whispered, "You should smile more, Reo-san. You'll get wrinkles."
Reo's lips twitched.
Bachira giggled and dashed out the door before Reo could react.
Kunigami stopped at the doorway, glancing back. "...Sorry."
"It's alright," Reo said, waving goodbye. "Just keep him alive until his shift."
Kunigami nodded and left.
Reo stood alone in the training room, surrounded by wrecked equipment and weapons scattered everywhere.
He closed his eyes.
"I need to have a day off right now."
---
ISAGI'S OFFICE - 4:15 AM
The soft light from the desk lamp illuminated the stacks of files, maps, and scribbled notes that only he could read, scattered across the wooden desk—Isagi had long forgotten what color it was—it had never been empty since Bachira accidentally gave the old desk two bullet holes because 'I swear I pulled the latch.' Isagi Yoichi stared intently at a stack of documents, his black hair falling over his eyes as he reread the same passage for the third time.
His coffee had gone cold an hour ago.
He hadn't noticed.
A knock on the door interrupted him.
"Come in," he called, straightening slightly.
The door opened gently, and Kurona Ranze entered, his usual calm expression. He held a small stack of papers in his hand.
"Isagi-san. Report from the night shift."
Isagi gestured for him to continue.
Kurona stepped forward, placing the file on the table. "The target surveillance in the eastern area is complete. No complications. The photos and operational details are all finished. Chigiri-san requested adjustments to the surveillance plan for the Nakamura case – which Reo-san approved."
Isagi nodded, opened the file, and glanced through its contents. "Good. Anything else?"
Kurona hesitated for a split second.
Isagi looked up. He was always very perceptive in these small details. "What is it?"
"...Bachira and Kunigami have vandalized the training room again."
Isagi sighed. "Well."
"Reo-san has handled it."
"Good."
Kurona lingered for a moment, whispering, "You should rest, Boss. You've been here since yesterday afternoon."
Isagi looked up at him, a weary smile on his face.
"I will rest. Soon."
Kurona, of course, didn't believe him, but he nodded anyway. "Understood. I'll always be available if you need anything."
"Thank you, Kurona."
As Kurona left and closed the door, Isagi leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
The burden of leadership responsibility weighed heavily on him like a rock, growing heavier with each passing second, and perhaps no one, and never will be able to lift it.
But he didn't show it.
He never made that mistake.