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Chapter Text

“Alright everybody, settle down.”

The conference room erupted, flashing with cameras, stupid boom mics and fluttering papers with poorly written shorthand that you could barely tolerate. This case, it became the bane of your existence, yet it spurred you on to catch the guy responsible.

When the room fell silent, knowing full well you weren’t giving in to the reporters demanding questions, you finally exhaled. You hated this part.

“Detective Chief Inspector! Can you say for certain that the recent hike in organs selling on the black market has links to the Hollow Purple killer?! Our only active serial killer currently operating within Tokyo.”

You shook your head with all the disappointment as a strict school teacher. “It’s never been confirmed that the Hollow Purple killer is linked to the higher rates on the black market, we’re merely surmising. When we have more to go on, we’ll provide the evidence of our findings; whatever they may be. Next?”

“Detective, can you comment on the pattern of victims? Another has just been found, can you confirm that this man fits the over-thirties profile?!”

Men. Every single time. Men in their thirties, linked to violence and repeated offences. Like the killer was a vigilante or something.

“We cannot comment on the victim until they are identified, when official enquiries have been made and the family come forward, we’ll release that information.”

Ugh, so boring.

You had a briefing to go over after this, reviewing all of the evidence for the new start. Basically fresh meat for the officers to induct into the briefing room.

God help him.

“One more question… Yes?” You pointed to the quiet reporter in the corner, a brunette in a turtleneck and looking right out of place with a lollipop between her lips. Eyeglasses far too dark for the rooms inadequate lighting to see properly.

“Do you have any suspects yet?”

Should you lie and confirm that you did? In reality, you weren’t even close to getting a suspect. Either way, the press would eat out of the palm of your hand for that information. Even so, after learning that, they’d either deem the police as incompetent after looking for the Hollow Purple killer for three years with nothing to show for it, or demand a name of this imaginary suspect.

A double edged sword that would bite the hand that fed it.

“No. We currently do not have a suspect in custody-“

Cameras clicked furiously at your face like judgmental eyes carefully watching your next move, and the voices behind them questioned not only the police’s competence, but yours, too.

Detective Kamo, a member of the specialist task force set on catching the Hollow Purple killer, outstretched his arm in front of you and practically shooed the reporters away.

“That’s enough questions. When we know more, we’ll call another conference. Thank you.”

His tall presence silenced them despite the continuous shutter clicks and flashes. You turned away off of the podium and stormed through the double doors back into the designated hallway.

“Jesus! I fucking hate these conferences, they never do any good and there’s nothing new to offer. It’s pissing me off.”

Choso huffed in amusement that was wasted on your gritted teeth. “They’re vultures, what do you expect? I’m surprised they haven’t camped out at our houses just for something to do. The morale is low enough in the city as it is, they’re scraping the barrel for intel, and we’re just not giving it to them.”

“Whoever this killer is, he’s making us look like incompetent assholes.”

You followed him through the hallway, stepping through each door as he opened them. “That’s just a given. The police are always incompetent assholes in a journalist's eyes.”

“Those conferences go the same way every time, all they care about is the juicy details. Nothing of what the family is going through ever occurs to them unless it can get them views or notoriety. It sickens me.”

“Welcome to the world of policing, I guess.”

If that wasn’t bad enough, you saw how crowded the briefing room was. The scratched, worn door with the vertical slit window barely closed, erupting with chatter and bullshit on the other side. 

“And now I have to brief these animals.”

The second you pushed that door open, the room reacted like an excitable rash. Half were officers on home soil, the other half were detectives gifted from Osaka. You soon realised the latter were unruly, the majority arrogant and unfamiliar with your own leadership.

“The DCI is here!”

“Hey boss!”

“Fancy seein’ you here, almost thought you weren’t gonna show!”

If you weren’t so desperate, you would have sent them back to restore order. That being said, past the mild annoyance, they were damn good officers when they made the effort. Another double edged sword.

“Settle down, assholes. We have a briefing to get through and I’ll hand out assignments.”

Choso followed you in, abruptly pushing a detective's feet lazily thrown on the table, tutting at him before taking up a spot on that very table.

“So, first thing on the docket today- our new start, the National Police Agency’s golden boy. Satoru Gojo.” The room whistled and barked at the man up front, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and blackened sunglasses tucked out of his breast pocket. “Be sure to look after him, and don’t pull any of that lame bullshit like last time, the guy only made it two weeks.”

He grinned, waving to them like he was some sort of local celebrity. The NPA deemed him a high achiever, that was the only reason he was accepted into the task force. At a glance, he was a walking pretentious air head that left much to be explained.

You did not care. Not if he did his job properly.

“Alright, enough! This isn’t the first day of school. Grab your snacks, drink your coffee and sit down- Kamo, dim the lights.”

For once, the room sat in an uninterrupted silence, eyeing the overhead projection displaying on the pull-down screen. “I’ll go over what we know for the NPA’s baby boy, so we’re all on the same page.”

You allowed the room to whistle and chuckle as though it was some kind of rite of passage. Only it did not simmer down. The door opened, your eyes widened with the frustration of a disappointed mother.

“Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence, detective.”

An Osaka detective pulled up a chair. “Wow, Sukuna, y’get lost or somethin’?”

Sukuna said nothing. He waltzed in with the humongous dick sized chip on his shoulder for no reason at all and sat down at the only available empty table. 

You’d grill him about it afterwards.

“The Hollow Purple killer. Still unknown, coming up for the three year anniversary of darkness this city has endured.”

There were reams upon reams of information and exhaustive investigations sat on the desk collecting dust, only disturbing when another body fell on top of the collection.

“The Hollow Purple killer operates within the boundaries of the twenty-three special wards.” A view of multiple crime scenes popped up on the screen under the click of the miniature remote in your hand. “Killing men exclusively, married, in their thirties upwards. All with violence charges on their records.”

More brutalised bodies and autopsy photos cropped up from all corners, each body dumped in the same way, murdered the same way. Preserved just the same, like for like as though each different scene was the same. Identical to the last and the one after that.

“We assumed after the twenty-third body, that it was over and he was done putting one body on each ward… The bastard has started the pattern again. The latest victim was found in the same place, on the same date, in a photo perfect position. Twenty four bodies and if this is anything to go by, the next body will wind up in Shinjuku. More specifically, Kabukicho.”

After the projector switched to more specifics, the room remained silent. “The Hollow Purple killer, or H.P.K, kills men using a mixed substance of industrial strength bleach and an acid. Not only does the victim burn from the inside out,” you clicked again to a more fucked up autopsy photo. “They also choke on the gas it creates… and H.P.K watches whilst they die. But, that’s not the only thing he leaves for us.”

Again, another click. A beautiful precious gem the size of a ten yen coin. “A purple Sapphire is usually left in a small PVC box inside of the body. A precious gem of the highest quality, left for the family members of the deceased.”

“Talk about Sugar-Daddy-vigilante-justice.” Sukuna finally spoke, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place.

Each man murdered had some sort of dark background with abuse, or violence towards one person in particular. Their spouse. That was the unusual characteristic in common. Each of them walked away from the consequences before their deaths due to lack of evidence because their spouse decided not to press charges, and became unwilling to come forward in court under fear.

For a time, you suspected an officer in the beginning. After the fifth body and having the one thing that linked them, a police officer could only get evidence like that. Under your order, all officers with clearance were thoroughly examined.

A massive strain of resources, but you had to be sure. Now, everyone in this room was some you trusted to some degree enough to be there.

“We are looking for a man in his early thirties, highly intelligent who functions well in society. He likes to think he’s doing right, probably has an attitude for following people of authority, definitely has a skewed moral compass and most probably suffered some sort of abuse at the hands of someone important at some point.”

The room still watched, Satoru Gojo listened intently, his eyes flickering between the board and you every few seconds. He was neither distracted despite his aloofness, and never said a word under his breath.

He might actually last.

“Now,” You clicked the next slide, a large map of the wards. “The first three victims were killed and disposed of in quick succession. We have one week before he kills again if he’s going by his previous pattern. The evidence suggests he is.”

“Three victims and three weeks. Busy guy.” Sukuna put his leg up over the other knee, “We on the usual bullshit neighbourhood watch as before?”

Teams separate and go by their own individual quadrants, starting from the outside and work their way in.

“No. We don’t have time. We go through every missing persons case with a history of violence and we look through every abandoned building, buildings with basements, alleyways- anywhere you can hide someone. Our aim is to find them alive, but our worst case scenario is to catch H.P.K in the act… two weeks after the first victim, and the fourth body wasn’t found for six months during a latent phase. We can’t afford to let that happen again.”

The last time was a disaster. It can't happen again.

You clicked the projection off, Choso turned on the room's lights with a wad of papers in his arms.

“Alright, take an assignment from detective Kamo and start combing. Prioritise anywhere that fits the profiles and leave no stone in turned. Every person so far has come from the ward they were murdered in. Don’t fall a step behind this time.”

The room thanked you, pairing up with each other, grabbing their coats and loose cigarettes behind their ears. Each officer thanked you and bowed, taking a sheet of paper and disappearing out into the hallway.

“So why were you late this time, Hm? Traffic or...“

Sukuna climbed out of his chair and placed his own cigarette to his lips, from his crumpled packet nestled in his breast pocket. He lacked any respect for you and the only reason you kept him around was because he was the one of, if not the best detective you’d ever had the displeasure of working with.

“I fucked my date last night and slept in, that an excuse enough for you?”

And he knew that. Hence why he gave you shit.

“Well, it certainly clears things up. Try to keep your personal affairs outside of work. And do your job.”

He huffed in amusement which only pissed you off more. There must be something you could do to return the favour.

“What about me?”

“Holy shit.” You never flinched, just took a step back. “I forgot you were still here, didn’t you go with one of the officers?”

Satoru Gojo hadn’t moved from the wall, pulling out his glasses to clean. “I waited for you to assign me. Thought you’d show me the ropes or tell me what to do.”

There was something sparingly flirtatious about it, yet far too innocent for the room to read it that way.

“Fine, you’ll go with Detective Sukuna today. I’m sure he can show you the ropes well enough without my input.”

Sukuna shook his head yet said nothing. You’d won this round. “C’mon asshole. Grab a sheet, we’re hitting the coffee shop for breakfast.”

Satoru hesitated, walking past you for the last papers in Choso’s arms. “Alright then, see ya later.”

You waited until they left to speak with Choso. “Is it just me or-“

“He’s a flirtatious prick? Yeah, it’s not just you.”

“I can probably guess your thoughts on him already then?” Pulling a seat out, you set yourself on it, smugly grinning at a man you trusted with your life.

He shrugged, sitting back down on the desk. “He’s going to be a pain in the ass, that’s all I need to know.”

“You’re telling me… Maybe being partnered with Sukuna might make him reevaluate his approach on this task force.”

“Something tells me it won’t make a difference.”

His grumbling made you laugh. “You are a grumpy one today, aren’t you?”

“I just know an asshole when I see one.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He half smiled, getting to his feet to open the door for you. “So are you.”

“Then we’re both assholes. But, we won’t be when we catch this guy. And when we do, you better take me out to that steak place you always rave about.”

Choso left the room with you, following close behind. “If we get this guy soon, I’ll buy you a hundred steaks.”

Steak sounded so good right now. “Then let’s catch this bastard. It’s about time.”

The Hollow Purple killer was in for it to face the full brunt of the specialist task force. You wouldn’t let him slip through your fingers, not again.

Even if it killed you.

Chapter Text

Watching you speak about Satoru the way you did, just intrigued him in a way that no one had.

Getting the nickname ‘The Hollow Purple Killer’ was something fascinating as well as hilarious. Yet the way you said it, well, did something to Satoru the way no one else had.

That’s why you were so special. 

And he wanted to get to know you personally as soon as possible.

Satoru slumped in the passenger seat, watching the city go by in a blur. The detective was driving, sitting in an awkward silence next to him like he was waiting for Satoru to say something. So, he broke the tension the old man was intentionally creating.

“She’s pretty, huh?”

“She’ll eat you alive. Don’t even bother.”

Yeah, he was just waiting for it.

Exactly the response he hoped for too. Seeing your no bullshit attitude was what drew him to you so quickly, the way you handled and commanded a room full of testosterone and egos. It was fucking hot.

Except, Satoru already knew you, knew as much about you as his line of work would allow. A detective chief inspector with your personality, who knew how to make an entrance. Satoru admired your ruthless approach, meticulously studied your past arrests and what you looked for in the cases you were assigned to, the finer details. 

He enjoyed seeing what made you tick, the way your bottom lip twitched when your patience was thinner than a piece of fine china, and how the tone in your words heightened when you were frustrated. And when he couldn’t learn anymore about you, he went for the next best thing.

Working alongside you personally.

The group of idiots you had working for you were never close to finding Satoru out and they wouldn’t ever get that chance. But you? You were fun, and on a whole other level than the rest of them. If anyone had a chance to find out Satoru’s identity, it was you.

“C’mon.” Satoru turned in the passenger seat as Sukuna drove with his hands firmly planted on the steering wheel. “She can’t be all that bad.”

Sukuna turned off down a back street. “That bitch is a Venus flytrap. Get too close and she’ll ingest you without a second thought. She eats guys like you for breakfast.”

Shit, that’s hot. 

He wished. Satoru Gojo was a glutton for punishment, to which he was yet to receive with substance from anyone. Humility was another one. It excited him, because no one had the balls to go full force and attempt to find him out.

Sukuna sounded like he was either jealous, or hated you. By the way that other officer hung around you, what was his name? Who cares. Satoru noted how he watched you on the sidelines of the briefing immediately, so it could have been jealousy. Maybe you and Sukuna had fucked before, or you let him down in a fashion Satoru expected? Laughed in his grumpy face maybe? Could be.

Now that was amusing.

“See, you’re making me want to get to know her more just by sayin’ that. I’m not intimidated by an assertive woman, it’s actually kind of a turn on.”

Sukuna stifled his laughter, it was automatic, intuitive to know you so well. “You say that now, just give it a week. That’s if you make it that long. She’s partnered you and me together as punishment, don’t enjoy this. I’m fucking not. She knows I don’t play well with others, and in doing that, makes her a bitch. She gets under your skin in a way no woman should. The last guy who tried it lasted two days.”

Oh yes, this was going to be interesting.

“We’re gettin’ on well enough, I think I’ll last just fine… Partner. ”

Sukuna made a sound grumble from his throat. “Don’t call me that, not if you want your balls intact. I’m being neutral right now so she doesn’t ride my ass, and she will. She always does. I’m hungover, I don’t need her yapping in my ear again.

Riding ass, sounded hot. Maybe in time, Satoru could get you to chastise him too? But he kept that to himself. “Sounds like you admire her.”

He cackled in response, turning down another street and pulling his second cigarette out of the box since being in the car. “I respect very little. She’s hot, that’s why I tolerate her, But, like I said, she’s a bitch. I say it to her face all the time. You’ll understand when you spend time with her, if she lets you.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Fucking new guys, you’re all the same.” Sukuna pulled up down a side street and proceeded to get out with or without Satoru.

Satoru climbed out and matched Sukuna’s pace down the illuminated side street. “How so?”

Sukuna fiddled over his pockets for his lighter, taking no notice of the neon signs during the day, or the gambling centres wide open before midday. They bustled as they always did inside the entertainment district, all professions, all times of the day. The city that never slept, tucked just out of reach though prominently in your face.

Or in his case, it was home to Satoru.

Sukuna clicked his lighter and took a drag of smoke into his lungs. “Make obvious gaga eyes at the woman you'll never get and cry to your mommy when she kicks you to the dirt.”

“I’m not like most new guys.” He was definitely unlike any man you’d ever met. Satoru couldn’t wait to give you the run around.

“I’ll have to see that to believe it…”

“So you never…”

Satoru wanted to dip his toes into the assumption rather quickly, once he figured out if anything went on, he could rule out people as potential competition. It was a risk after meeting someone so dickish to ask something so personal, but this was Satoru Gojo.

Nothing was personal to him if he could own it himself.

“Me? Ha! I wouldn’t touch the woman with a barge pole, I like my women lacking in the brain department, it makes it easier to dump and run when they try getting serious.”

Perfect. Satoru grinned, he tried to hide it. But how could he?

“I like intelligent women, it makes the conversations more interesting.”

And boy, the conversations Satoru imagined with you were interesting enough to fantasize about.

You, with glasses and a presentation pointer. Professor fantasy? Maybe. Speaking down to him with condescension and a crack across his ass until he submitted… Ha, he'd never.

He was yet to find someone he’d even dream of submitting to.

“I bet it does… She’ll still turn you down, so don’t bother trying.”

Sukuna led the way and turned right, pushing his way through the coffee shop door, letting it close on Satoru if he hadn’t walked fast enough. For a week day, it was pretty busy, most tables sat occupied. Satoru people watched as the detective babbled about boring stuff, he leant against the counter and zoned him out to see what sort of people the coffee shop brought in today.

A nerdy boy, looked like he’d just finished college, nose in a book that Satoru had read three times by his last year in high school. His glasses sat too low on the bridge of his nose, possibly due to the lack of a proper prescription, he even adjusted them when a girl came in to sit opposite him, they could have been too big for him. A girlfriend perhaps? Nah, he’s way too formal. A crush then.

Across the way, a woman nursed her child, cooing at it like a puppy. Babies were boring, older kids not so much. Satoru enjoyed teaching the kids when they visited the academy, and being the NPA’s wonder boy had its perks, shaping young minds and pushing them to more promising careers. If Satoru hadn’t decided that killing was his favourite, he probably would have become a teacher at some point in his life.

Then, in the furthest corner, Satoru shifted his attention to the lone man on his own. A recognisable man from somewhere, though nowhere, totally engrossed in his newspaper. He donned tattoos up the neck underneath the loose collar of his shirt, his frail body didn’t match as though he didn’t fit his skin.

“Fucking- what is that prick doing in here?”

Sukuna stormed over to the man and sat down with his coffee without warning, Satoru followed. When he finally looked up from his paper, he squeaked and made a move to run. Satoru grabbed his shoulder and sat him back down.

“Easy, guy. We just wanna chat.”

He didn’t know who the guy was now that he was up close, but there was something about him he wanted to know more of. Why was Sukuna so bothered by his presence?

“Tanaka, fancy seeing you here. You skipped out on me last time, I haven’t seen you for a while.”

”W-Well…” He shuffled around, watching Satoru closely as he perched on the edge of the booth seat beside him. “I uh- you know…”

“Playing on those Pachinko machines again, hm?” Sukuna pointed out the stuffed yen notes in his coat pocket the man still had on in the warm coffee shop.

“Just a lil bit… I got paid so-“

”With my money? Or money you hustled?”

He didn’t reply, he just watched Satoru hunch over in his seat almost bored. Why did he look so out of place? Did he recognise Satoru?

”Listen up, new guy. This is your first of many of my shitty lessons.” Sukuna nodded to the man. “This here, is Tanaka, my informant. A slimy little rat who decided not to play nice and bolt when he took my money. I don’t play well with people who take my money and don’t give me what I want in return. I'll just take it next time.”

Oh… So that’s why he looked so familiar. An informant. If he recognised Satoru at all, he’d need to disappear somehow. 

Satoru sighed, scratching his head at why Sukuna would even bother to use a bottom dweller to do his dirty work when there were plenty of other people who’d do the job far better and were much more reliable. He could reel off four people right now from the black market

”Why’d you use a gambler to give you information?” Gamblers were walking hazards, total flight risks.

Sukuna sipped on his coffee, playing with his cuffs in the other hand, clicking them like a metronome to set the guy off. “See in this city, Mr. small-minded, traipsing around looking for someone can be tiresome, so getting other people to do it for you helps a bunch. You think all the information I bring in is off my own back? Work smart, not hard, or you’ll get cock performance issues.”

”Right. Makes sense. But what do you want with him if he skipped out on you?”

”I-I didn’t. I promise you I didn’t!”

”Be quiet. Don’t make a scene.”

Tanaka nodded and had trouble clearing his throat. “L-Listen… My mom is ill, I needed to get her help, b-but I have information on what you asked-“

Sukuna sighed, clicking the cuffs harder this time to jitter the man. “That was news I wanted two weeks ago. Do you know anything on the Hollow Purple Killer, or know anyone who does? This is your last chance to redeem yourself, so don’t waste my time.”

Tanaka glanced at Satoru briefly, his eyes wide with the uncertainty about the consequences of his actions. “I uh… I’m not sure- I might know someone who does!”

Oh? Who could that be? There’s only thee people who know who I am, I guarantee he knows none of them.

“And who’s that?”

”Mei Mei, you remember Mei Mei, right?”

Sukuna had pretty much given up on life, Mei Mei wasn’t a name Satoru was familiar with. But Tanaka seemed adamant, nodding to him like he wanted to believe it himself.

”Mei Mei might know something. If anyone does, it’ll be her.- please don’t send me back to that place, I-I won’t run off again, I promise.”

Satoru was intrigued. Was she someone to challenge? Could she put Satoru on the edge of his seat like you did? As of this city, Satoru was sure he knew all of the informants, well, ones worth knowing. Clearly he was wrong.

Wonderful.

Chapter Text

By midday, you and Choso had cleared the abandoned buildings listed in your little notebook. Three to be exact, hidden down back alleys and side streets with lower foot traffic.

“What about this place?” You asked, nodding your head in the direction of a darkened alley, practically abandoned. “It’s not on the list, I don’t think I’ve seen this part of town before… huh, I thought I’d combed every corner of this district, maybe it’s part of the next ward?”

You watched the practically black blip on the map, untouched by neon and market smells, scraps of discarded newspapers and lost change fallen from people’s pockets. It was barely built, forgotten like an old relic.

“Huh…” Choso rubbed his chin, studying the building's tall side with the high smashed-in window. “I can’t say I’ve seen this either, like it was ripped up out of nowhere and placed here.”

“Well, let’s take a peek, it’s probably where the homeless are staying if it’s this closed off. Let’s check it out. We might be able to get some answers.”

You marched off down the thin alley, side stepping past some old, rusted trash cans, avoiding the weeks old garbage that harboured the smell of sweet rotting food. 

If the ominous appearance didn’t keep people away, the smell definitely did.

“Jesus-“ the police issue face guard did nothing. “Does this place never get cleaned?”

Choso followed close. “I’ll put in an enquiry with the local authority to see why their sanitation is lacking here.”

“Maybe it’s just difficult to get down here, but it doesn’t negate the fact that we’ve never seen this place.” 

The entire building was wrong, broken. Each window had been blown out with fire damage, and eerie shapes cast over the poorly laid concrete bricks from old, peeling posters and expired stickers of parades that had passed three years prior. It was more than just wrong, it was rampantly present like a rash, an oozing sore in Kabukicho’s ward, poorly covered in tape.

It was festering, the woodwork broken and rotting away at the doorframe, practically coming apart in your hand in large shreds and sections.

“I’ll go first.” 

Choso adjusted his mask and pulled out his flashlight and gun, moving past you for the first step directly down into the cellar.

“Pretty macho of you today.” You said, following close behind and checking your six.

He scoffed and turned down the narrow staircase. “Maybe I’m just up for dick measuring today.”

“Sounds about right. That new kid really has you riled up, huh?”

What was his name again?

“That Gojo kid has nothing I’m interested in. I just didn’t like the way he looked at you, that’s all.”

How sentimental.

“N’arww, you really do have a soft spot for me, don’t you? I knew it-“

“Don’t flatter yourself, boss. I just know how guys think. It pisses me off when they look at you like a piece of meat.”

Well, that much was true. Ever since you joined, your colleagues tried it, any detective with balls bigger than yours tried it with you and any other female member of staff to see just how far they could go. Tiresome really, proving yourself to the point that diminished the return even now when men liked to try their luck.

Your skin was much thicker now than it was.

“Because you know the real me?”

Choso nodded, pointing his gun down the stairs with each careful step. “And you’re insufferable.”

He had you there. “I am, aren’t I?”

“God, you are. I can’t believe you put up with Sukuna’s back and forth shit you two go through. I would have kicked his ass by now.”

There were the usual men who most people encountered, egotistical, arrogant or cocky. Sukuna was all three but entirely different, downright disgraceful and pretty sure he was crooked to some degree. Yet he always followed through on what he set out to do and delivered.

How could you not respect that?

“He’s a great detective. That’s about as far as my respect for him goes. He is personality isn’t even my type so he’s boring to look at in my opinion. Shame. Could do with a bit of eye candy around here without all those old men leering all the time.”

Choso reached the bottom step and ducked under a low bearing beam. “Don’t think you can crawl to me when you get bored.”

That was laughable in itself. 

You ducked too, barely, stepping off to the right whilst he went left around the perimeter of the basement. The thick air stifled your face shield, making the fibres stick to your lips and grow damp with your breath. 

“C’mon, Choso, you know you’re beautiful. I don’t need to tell you that. And whoever you end up with will be very lucky…” 

That earned a laugh from him across the room for some reason. “I could say the same about you, but then you’d hit me.”

You totally would.

“That’s right.” Tiptoeing over more rotted wood brought you along the wall facing back in Choso’s direction. “No trying to inflate your boss’s ego or tell her that she’s pretty and we get along just fine. Worked out so far with us, right?”

“I remember your first day on the job. You were a mess-“

“Okay! It was a mistake-“

“And that’s why Sukuna doesn’t respect you.”

“Hey! I could kick his ass any day of the week and you know it!”

Maybe. No, who were you kidding? Your sheer will alone would kick his ass.

Your tone amused him enough. “Sure-“ A clunk in the wall made you both pause. “What was that?”

A rat perhaps? You hopped over a scattered chair and table cloth, edging around a large sunken part of the floor with collected, polluted water. A red marker on the wall, no… it was darker than pen ink. 

“Looks like blood…” You fiddled with your radio and backed away so Choso could take point. “Requesting a forensics back up with the nearest available unit.” You effortlessly reeled off the general location.

“Boss, it’s fresh.” He shined his light on it, you saw the reflection from across the room. 

There came the clunk again, as though by instinct, your flashlight levelled with Choso’s to the right to a large padlock dangling on the wall, linked with two metal rings.

“On it- hello? Tokyo police! Is anyone in there?!”

You froze, holding your breaths to listen for a sound, something that wasn’t a squeak of a rat or trill of a pigeon this low under ground.

Yeah right. 

A grunt, a groan, a noise completely and utterly human. 

“Shoot it off.”

Covering your ears, Choso shot it off and pulled part of the wall away, letting your flashlight fall on what was underneath.

“Holy shit.” You pulled your face shield off, letting it drop in the puddle with a soft splash. “Hello?”

A man. Barely clothed. Barely living.

“Help… p-please…”

Choso assisted him, checking him over and asking him a series of questions. You fumbled for your radio, starting to pace at the first possible live evidence of the Hollow Purple Killer’s trail.

The man shivered, shaking like a leaf by Choso’s gloves hands, tugging on the space blanket over his shoulders. He mumbled something, random words and nodded every so often to what Choso asked him.

“Request for an ambulance, we have a man, mid thirties, possibly fitting the H.P.K characteristics. Requesting immediate support from the nearest unit.”

Again, you reeled off the closest address.

“Yeah, message received. We’re five minutes away.”

Of course it was Sukuna that answered.

“What is this?” Choso asked, taking what looked like a token from the man, an acrylic square. 

“H-he said to give it to the police… t-to the woman.”

The woman? 

“What is it?” 

You took it, studying it under the flashlight beam tearing through the musty air. You set in the corner for more light while Choso’s flashlight flickered over the man's face and bloodied arms. Just an average clear acrylic square with a load of scribbled lines on it.

“Well… if he said to give it to a woman, I’m assuming it’s me?”

“Yeah, there’s no one else on the task force it could be, unless it’s for someone at the precinct, but I doubt it.”

“Then it’s evidence.” It went straight into the clear baggie from your belt, labelled ‘number one’.

“Can you move? Where did this blood come from?” Choso called you over. “His wounds, they’re already healing, do you have your first aid kit with you?”

“No, we came here to check out buildings, not find evidence. I have the bare essentials you have, I’m not prepared at all.” 

You aided him, helping the man to walk with a quick glance at the open wall. A thin break between two walls, just wide enough to stand until the man’s legs gave out. His fingernails scratched the sleeve of your jacket, bloody, uneven.

“He scratched at the wall… look.” Three red lines messily scribbled in the dark. “What… three days?”

“Can you tell us about this man? Did he put you there, or were there other people who did?”

You were overwhelmed with questions, tasting a brief glance into the step closer to the Hollow Purple killer. Evidence, potential evidence he was actually here, that he’d stepped foot right where you did that wasn’t a crime scene resulting in a dead body.

Someone was alive and he was in reach.

“I don’t… ugh- I can’t. I don’t know why- I just…” He rocked with his head in his hands, too disoriented for questions. Shit. You were getting ahead of yourself.

“It’s alright, sir. We’ll get you taken care of and we’ll talk later. We need to get your wounds seen too, alright?”

“Jesus. One hell of a party down here.”

“Detective Sukuna.” And the wonder boy. “Where’s the ambulance?”

“On its way, three minutes out.” He trotted down the stairs with his own flashlight. “He kept him in there, did he? Place looks like a DNA farm. This should be fun- new kid, get your ass down here and tell me something I already know.”

“Now isn’t the time to train the newbie, Sukuna. Set a perimeter so forensics can get in here.”

Sukuna leant his arms against the lintel of the doorway, tilting his head with his usual condescension. “Any time is teaching time, that’s what our boss taught us, right, Boss?”

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled as sweetly as you could in the darkness. “So take this guy with you and do a triage on him while you wait for the ambulance. You’ll see to it personally that he’s taken to the hospital and sit with him until he’s cleared for questioning. I’ll take…” 

Shit, what’s his name again?

“Gojo. It’s, Gojo.” He said, waving a few fingers to you.

“That’s right, I’ll keep Gojo for the rest of the day and arrange someone to come with you.” 

Choso stifled his laughter and walked with you to Sukuna who remained silent, hopefully stewing in his own stupid brain that you were in charge and not to be fucked with.

He murmured something under his breath, probably calling you a bitch blah blah blah, and helped the man up the stairs.

“That’ll teach him to piss me off.”

“Nicely handled.”

Whether it was a compliment or general praise, it didn’t matter. 

“So, Gojo. Tell me what you see.”

“I’ll... liaise with forensics.” Choso cleared off up the stairs, peeling his gloves off and the sounds of his boots soon disappearing amongst disembodied voices and foot traffic.

“Well,” Gojo waited for silence. “There’s blood on the inside of the wall- that guy was in here? Three lines, three hours, three days? But it’s pitch black in here. His sleep cycle wouldn’t line up unless he counted every second.”

A basic deduction. “He was babbling, he didn’t count each second. His legs gave out, he’s sleep deprived.”

“Hm…”

You knew all this, his body language suggested he had something on his mind that he wasn’t letting on. “Okay, NPA wonder boy. Give me something worthy that your title suggests.”

He grinned, staring into the wall space, picking up the padlock in his gloved hand, flashlight temporarily in his mouth to bag it up.

“When our circadian rhythm is dipped into prolonged darkness, we can think we’ve spent less time than we actually have. Twenty-four hour day sleep cycles can often double. That means if those lines in the wall was his attempt to try and keep track, it could easily be a week he actually spent here.” 

Sleeping every two days instead of one. Standing initially until it got too much. At least the poor guy had an idea to try and keep track.

“Then there’s this lock too.” Gojo shined the beam over the evidence bag. “The padlock is pretty fresh, no signs of dirt or scratches. Whoever put that guy in there probably left him. He’s probably malnourished, it can affect memory.”

Potential memory loss due to trauma and cognitive function, a fact you’d considered and dreaded.

So he might actually be worth his salt. Better than I expected. It’s worth asking I suppose.

“There’s this too. What do you think of this?”

“Oh… you found a music marker.”

“A what?”

“Uh, well it’s better if I just show you, do you mind?” He yanked off his glove and pulled up his phone's camera.

“Go on.”

“So… you take a picture- you can get these things at any convenient store and they print them for you, if in this case, it looks hand written.” The room flooded with the flash. “Click the link. And… there, it brings the music app up and plays the song. It’s this song.”

It played through the speaker, a familiar tune though in its original form in English. 

“I know this song. Why would he want me to have this?”

“For you?” He asked.

You took the evidence bag from Goo and hummed to yourself. “That’s what the guy said… 'for the woman'. I can say I’ve been called worse.”

“Hey Boss, forensics are here!”

“I guess that’s all we can do for now until we can talk to that guy… er, thanks for showing me that music thing. It really helped.”

You weren’t strict on giving praise where it was due, but seeing how his eyes seemingly lit up in such drab conditions forced you to be cautious.

Not another one.

Chapter Text

The hallway leading to forensics stood empty and void of life, all they did was look at evidence of dead people and baron crime scenes, why would anyone need to be sat on the floor waiting for some news?

Any news. 

Good news.

Hopefully not bad news regarding the investigation.

Though how did the saying go? No news was good news.

Well, not to you.

You sat against the wall, waiting for some masked analyst to pop their head round the corner and give it to you straight. It was taking longer than you hoped and your patience was thinning.

“We can always find out tomorrow. I doubt the evidence will run away.”

“I want to be here to get it as soon as possible, Choso. Go home if you’re uncomfortable.” You read over the translated lyrics of the song, highlighting potential links and rhymes. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

Choso slid down with a slump, his long legs taking up most of the lonely corridor. “And let that guy think he has a chance? Nope, it’s not like I have anything to do when I’m home anyway.”

He was talking about Gojo, who by the way was incredibly talented at getting coffee and had an interesting supply of sweets to hand.

You snorted, keeping your eyes peeled to the paper. “When do we ever have anything outside of this job? It consumes our life, how the hell will we get life partners?”

“Yeah, if only you didn’t bite everyone’s heads off, you might find someone who can handle you.”

“Even you can’t handle me, what makes you think anyone else can?”

“True,” Choso stretched himself out, yawning into the crook of his elbow. “I guess maybe Sukuna is right then-“

“Ha. How is he doing on that scene guard anyway? Bored out of his mind?” 

He checked his phone, smirking at the group texts on his phone screen. “For sure. No one’s available to swap with him.”

“That’s what he gets for calling me a bitch all the time- look at this…” One line in particular. “If this just isn’t some mocking thing, and it’s some sort of a signal or message, what do you think of that?”

Choso read over it, mumbling to himself. “Are you somewhere feeling- I mean… you are on your own.”

“I’m not some lonely hag, they’re mocking me, aren’t they? Ugh… I thought I’d be over the moon with this, but it’s just a slap in the face. In English too? No one on the team knows English, even me.”

“We’re looking for someone more intelligent than we first thought… you really think this could be H.P.K? This isn’t like him.”

You shrugged, rubbing your temples behind the rows of text you’d reread a hundred times. “I don’t know, serial killers in the past have changed their routine, but it’s not very common, and why after the first body if he’s doing a replay? Why not throw us off with the first body? We still have half a week left, something just isn’t right with this.”

“I thought that, you too, huh?” Choso took the paper from your hands, setting it down beside him so you could slouch in peace.

Maybe it was exhaustion, the pushing force to get this stain of the city before he killed again. Perhaps it was pareidolia, so that your brain tried finding patterns in this peculiar case.

You wouldn’t know until forensics came back.

“All this new information and I don’t know what to do with it.” Choso’s shoulder was more comfortable than ever.

“If it does turn out to be him, you have an admirer.”

“A bastard who’s been giving us the run around for years. No admirer I want if that’s the case.” 

As far as banter went, you believed it was mind games, not true integration, and you weren’t quite sure how to take it.

Bullshit. Utter bullshit.

“Here we go- oh, am I interrupting something?”

You scrambled up, pulling away from Choso until your back was against the wall and taking coffee from Gojo. Choso got up, though not as enthusiastically, brushing his pants off and leaning causally with his own coffee.

“Uh, no, just tired- actually you should go home now, as the officers first on scene, we’ll stay to get the results.”

“Oh, I don’t mind staying it’s pretty exciting on my first day to find something so interesting… were you able to find anything in those lyrics?”

Apart from the song calling you a lonely person? No.

“Nothing yet, I’ll look at it later… so, if you want to make yourself useful and stay, you can head on over to the hospital and change shifts with detective Sukuna, detective Kamo can take you.”

Gojo didn’t move, he didn’t make eye contact with Choso either. “I was hoping I could be of use to you here, I kinda need the experience.”

Ugh… he’s going to be one of those guys? 

“No, we have it covered here, you can go to the hospital, maybe see if you can find any criminal records the man might have when you can ID him. We’ll be heading over to interview him once we get what we need from forensics.” You called the name of another officer from the task force who happened to be passing in the hall towards the lobby. “Take Gojo to the hospital to join Sukuna, then you’re free to go home.”

“Thanks boss! C’mon newbie, time to go. I wanna get home to call my wife before she puts my kids to bed. I gotta take a shit too.”

How delightful.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Gojo bowed despite the flicker of disappointment on his face. “It’s been a pleasure to work alongside you today.”

“I think that might have humbled him, fetching your coffee and putting him on babysitting duty.”

You shrugged, not making it a big deal. “We all had to do that sort of stuff when we joined up, he’s no exception. He’ll need humbling fast if he wants to make it on this task force. Despite the others being assholes, they know when to quit it most of the time when I’m not in the mood. He’ll suck it up, or he won’t last.”

“One ‘thank you’ and he’s already asking to work with you?”

Choso was never one to hide what he thought. A reason you admired him.

“He really gets your back up, doesn’t he?”

“Detectives?” The door opened. “We have some information you might be looking for. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure.”

The room was set up just about as any other forensic room, evidence lined up, dusted sheets of acetate stuck together and a large microscope in the middle. A woman and man sat by that large microscope surrounded with caffeinated beverages and bags of chips, a half eaten sandwich between them.

“So, it’s as we expected. Your hypothesis.” She said. 

The Hollow Purple Killer.

“So that means-“

“No evidence, the entire scene is clean. Even the victim, my team were able to check him over and send the sample kit over. There’s nothing on him. Despite being as dirty and bloody as he was, There were no other prints or DNA on him, only his own.”

No DNA, like the same vivid nightmare you’d been living the last few years.

“We can question the victim, maybe we could get something there.”

“That’s if the malnourishment hasn’t made his brain go to shit after being in that basement for as long as he was…”

Your gut teetered on hidden excitement and fear of a dead end again. “Kamo, if this really is H.P.K, then he’s reaching out. It has to be that.”

He picked up the song marker in the evidence bag, wiggling it between his fingers. 

“Why now? After killing his first victim on the cycle a second time round, why is he reaching out when we’ve stopped the second body and disrupted the rhythm? Why change his pace now?”

Why change things? If the Hollow Purple Killer was introducing something new, no matter how little, it made no sense to do something so suddenly. Twenty three bodies, and it might have made sense to you why the pattern might have changed, but after one body into the rotation, it just didn’t sit right.

“The date… the date on the second murder… It’s still significant.”

“How so?” Choso stood there analysing your face and his face twisted into disbelief. “Oh come on. We saved the guy, cut your ass some slack.”

“Why did we find that guy, just by random? And so easily. You and I both said we’d never seen that little corner of Kabukicho, so of course we would investigate it.” 

Choso rubbed his face. “So you’re saying that guy in there was a plant, that we just happened to find by chance though it was planned?”

You started pacing, fiddling with your bottom lip to concentrate. “We still have- what, four days to find the next victim. There’s nothing to suggest in the past autopsies that the victims were kept longer than a few days, and definitely not a week before they were killed, especially not in the condition that guy is in. We might have saved this guy, but H.P.K still has time to get someone else… something isn’t right.”

“Then we go ask the guy himself. We don’t have time to wait for him to get better before we question him.”

Choso headed for the door, you followed. “Get Sukuna on the phone and tell him to start warming him up. I want answers tonight.”

“On it.”

The entire way over, you ran the facts over in your head, trying to think of questions to save time. Your mind ran fuzzy, knowing full well you’d go off on a tangent at the new information, covering it like bees to honey. You couldn’t over indulge despite wanting to desperately.

By the time you reached the hospital, Gojo was standing outside, arms folded and staring off into space until he saw you.

“He’s awake, Sukuna’s talking to him now.”

The lack of addressing his superior by his title, you ignored for now, walking right past him into the room where the weak man was eating.

You formally introduced yourself, ignoring Sukuna’s bored response. “This is Detective Kamo, I don’t know if you remember us from earlier, it’s good to see you eating.”

“Y-yes…” he said, sipping his juice, looking more frail than before. “I remember you, the nice lady that saved me.”

Choso cleared his throat, adjusting his belt to the side before he addressed the room. “We know it’s not convenient, but there’s some questions we need to ask you. It’s important.”

“Uh…” He eyed Sukuna who was still sitting there, practically giving up on the entire day. “The detective already asked me some questions… do you need more?”

You raised an eyebrow to Sukuna and moved to the other side of the room away from Choso. Sukuna shrugged, leaning on his fist. Chances were, all Sukuna asked was his name and anything to identify him by.

“Gojo.” Backing away, you spoke under your breath while Choso led. “You get an ID on this guy?”

“Yeah. Also got a hold of his record too.”

“Lay it on me.”

You watched Choso interview him, observing and sitting on your excitement of an actual lead. Gojo spoke in your ear, almost a little too close, could have been worse you supposed, his fresh cologne seeped through his clothes with a hint of musk.

“Kaito Itsuku. Thirty four. Late wife with a history of parking tickets.”

“No charges of violence? Common assault, domestic violence-“

“Nothing. As far as this guy goes, he’s a little sheep, a kitten. His wife died three months ago, and has no family. It could be why no one even reported him missing. I checked his records, there’s no next of kin.”

Meaning that if you and Choso never found him, it wouldn’t have made a difference to the Hollow Purple Killers plans.

“Mr Itsuku, can you tell me anything about the man that put you in that basement?” Sitting down beside him in the chair by the bed brought you to his level. “The man who did this is very dangerous and anything you give me can aid me in finding him so that he doesn’t do it to anyone else. Do you think you can help me?”

Referring to yourself instead of the room helped him be more open. Simple interviewing 101, less of an audience.

“Okay. W-well, I was getting the train home late that night, then it all went dark.”

“Which train station?”

“Shibuya.”

Shibuya station and taken to Shinjuku? This has no indicators of the Hollow Purple Killer.

“There was a sting in my neck when I got off the train to change platforms. I thought a bee stung me or something had bitten me.”

“It was a needle, right?” One quick exchange with Choso and your curiosity thickened. “So you never saw the man who took you, did you?”

He shook his head slowly and fiddled with his pudding pot. “No, but I heard his voice a little though.”

“You did?” Leaning forward like an eager child never tasted so good. “He spoke to you, or someone else?”

Mr Itsuku sniffled, rubbing his left eye. “I don’t think he realised I was awake, but I’m pretty sure he was talking to someone on the phone… His voice was soft, like he was friends with whoever he was talking to, I can’t remember what he said, but his voice was smooth like syrup.”

“Did he mention any names?” Choso joined in, sitting on the other side of Mr Itsuku’s bed.

“None that I heard, I passed out again after, and when I woke up again, I was in that dark place… s-so dark.”

Seeing a grown man cry was never easy, there was something about it that always made you uncomfortable. Like it was just plain awful, and seeing them grieve or sit there unable to accept news was difficult to digest.

“Thank you, Mr Itsuku. I know it’s very distressing right now. We’ll leave you to rest, and there will be a police officer outside at all times should you need anything. Someone will come by tomorrow to check on you while you heal, I’ll be back tomorrow too. If there’s anything you remember, inform the officer and it’ll be relayed to me and we can discuss it later.”

“Thank you officers, thank you for finding me.”

You bowed, as did Choso. Sukuna and Gojo followed you out and ventured down the hallway towards the exit.

“So this has nothing to do with that asshole. What next?” Sukuna pulled out his cigarettes.

“It has everything to do with H.P.K-“

Gojo strolled alongside you, legs longer than yours with bigger strides. “It does?”

With a quick smirk at Choso, you’d figured everything out. “Think about it, the random encounter, the sudden changed variables and pulling that guy out of the area and placing him in the ward we’re looking into… and especially that song. ‘Hello’, it’s a diversion, or maybe it’s a test of sorts. He asked Mr Itsuku to give that song marker to ‘the woman’, it’s an invitation.”

“It’s the phone call for me, there’s something off with it.” Choso pushed the door open with an air of cockiness about him, it appeared he was on the same page too.

“I don’t think that it was the Hollow Purple Killer that took him, but he was on the other end of that phone call.”

Sukuna snorted and padded his jacket for his lighter. “Sneaky bastard.”

“We finally have his attention after having ours for all this time. I’ll consider it a challenge. But for the time being, keep all our units looking for the victim he’ll kill next. This guy was just collateral. There’s still two more people at risk.”

“You think he’s really going to kill two more people? I thought you said the killer went off on a latent phase after the third victim?”

“This guy was never the next victim. And to be honest, I’m a little offended that the Hollow Purple Killer thought this was enough to thwart our task force.”

With the most hope you had to date while investigating these murders, you grinned triumphantly into the night of the hospital parking lot.

“He has a big game in front of him if he wants to invite me to play… because I’ll take this all the way to win.”

Chapter Text

To say you aced Satoru’s test with flying colours was an understent.

In truth, he almost forgot about Kaito Itsuku in that basement. Showing you how that song marker worked practically lit his whole body on excitable fire, standing right there at the scene of the crime and you had no clue.

“Everyone go home, we’re done here for today, see you all at the briefing tomorrow.”

You left the parking lot, yet Choso Kamo followed you, or rather he walked alongside you. Like a couple. 

If it weren’t for how wired Satoru was for observing you work his clues out, he would have gone crazy at figuring out your own clues. As far as his sources went, you weren’t in any type of relationship, or even seeing anyone casually. Yet the way you rested on Choso’s shoulder, well that told him a different story.

It was funny how elevated his obsession with you could grow in the space of less than twelve hours, morphing from his veins and into his brain like a bacterial infection. With each word that left your mouth, it charmed him to push you further, even when you fought him on it. In fact, it made him more inclined to impress you in a way he never thought anyone could.

The amazing Satoru Gojo wanting to impress someone else? Now that was unheard of.

“Alright then… see ya-“

“Just because you helped her once, doesn’t mean she’ll get down and lick your balls, new guy. Maybe jump in front of a bullet for her and perhaps she’ll flash you a smile.”

The thought of getting his balls licked sounded awfully tempting. Satoru shrugged it off to spite him, and tucked his hands in his pockets as a sign of dick measuring.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find H.P.K and she’ll give me a pat on the head?”

Sukuna snorted with his back to Satoru because he clearly didn’t have the respect for him, yet laughed at his joke anyway. “In your dreams, asshole. I bet you ten thousand yen you don’t even get a smile from the stone witch.”

“I’ll take it. But double it and I’ll get her to kiss me.”

“Pfft! Haha! Now you’re really delusional. Deal. Now get lost. Don’t be late tomorrow and make me look bad.” 

He disappeared across the parking lot, Satoru went the other way, strolling his way past the hospital and back into the heart of Kabukicho. 

Satoru’s home for the longest time. He knew its pitfalls, temptations and lingering shop fronts to entice poor drunks and men foolish with money. Satoru’s vices were nothing to do with material gain, no money could give him the rush he craved or the company of a beautiful woman.

Well, he loved women, that was entirely true. Just, none of them made him crazy enough to give up his personal hobby.

Cleaning up the streets one prick at a time.

He thought on it the entire way through the restless streets, heading up north to the hotel district for one slot on a fence no one ever noticed. Satoru trudged and whistled down an old access tunnel by the disused Metro, climbing down the rusty ladder to the sub-levels below the tracks.

Only it wasn’t entirely disused.

“There he is!”

In the furthest corner of the tracks, sat a home, a series of four little structures built entirely from scratch for anonymity.

Satoru had an apartment in Kabukicho, he just never used it.

Takuma Ino waved him over, hunched over his comedically large magnifying glass, studying his latest haul of stolen passports and a light bright enough to land a plane.

“How’d your first day go? You’re smiling so I can only hope it went well.”

Satoru sat himself down on the stool opposite, grinning like an idiot. “It went perfectly, Ino. She’s exactly what I expected in person.”

“She sounds pretty amazing, I looked at all her arrests on record. Impressive stuff.”

“And she’s pretty.” Shoko Ieiri popped her head out of her own little nook. “Glad I managed to see her in person before you did.”

“I can’t believe you walked around with the press and slipped in unnoticed, Shoko.” 

With one of the most at stake, Shoko didn’t often leave the underground tunnels, only for sun when her vitamins ran out.

“I asked her a question too, she probably thought I was some reporter for an indie outlet. Those sunglasses you love so much came in handy. Pretty dark though, I don’t know how you see through them.”

Satoru fiddled with a paintbrush on Ino’s desk and snorted. “You asked her a question? You’re living dangerously, corpse girl.”

“Satoru, don't call her that. You know she doesn’t like it. It doesn’t accurately describe her occupation.”

“Suguru, I wondered where you disappeared off to. You and I need to talk.”

He smiled sweetly, leaning against the wall with the aura of someone so charismatic, so well versed is.

“Getting down to business as soon as you step through the door? That’s unlike you. You usually enjoy fun before getting to the boring stuff.

“This is important unfortunately. I wanna get it over with while I’m still riding this high of meeting my idol.”

Shoko laughed, scooching Satoru off of the stool and sat in his place. “Look at you all lovestruck, I’m kinda dissapointed, Gojo.”

“Don’t get it twisted, I’m not in love.”

“Not yet…” 

Ino squirmed under Satoru’s glare. He wasn’t in love with you. How could he even fall in love with someone he’d never met in person? No, his obsession stemmed from his own selfish needs and what you could offer to satisfy him.

The thrill of the chase.

Yes, you were his type and very pretty. Of course, if you ever offered him a night with you, he’d snap that opportunity up in a heartbeat. Still, he’d never say he was in love or even experienced love. Satoru was extremely selfish, and it would take someone pretty incredible to change that, you included, despite being the closest in that race. Suggesting this was anything but a raw obsession for your overweening personality put Satoru in a bad mood.

“Suguru. Let’s go.”

“If we have to, but come to mine instead, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Alright.”

Suguru led him towards to his own abode, padding along the lined floor in no certain pattern of effort. “So the first day went as well as we expected? You were pretty excited this morning.”

"More than just expected, it was pretty fascinating. Y'know, they actually tried psychologically profiling me? A poor little me, a vigilante taking my anger out on certain men who must mirror my horrid childhood."

"Your childhood was far from horrid." Suguru opened the door and let Satoru close it behind him, taking his friend past the little living area and towards the bathroom.

Satoru came from a silver spoon, nepo conglomerate. The money and company never too far from him and handed over whenever he asked. He wouldn't class that as horrid.

“I know right? My childhood was awesome. Hearing it made it difficult not to laugh if I'm honest.”

As soon as Shoko and Ino were out of sight, Suguru’s shoulders dropped and his expression fell neutral. 

“God, acting in front of people is so exhausting.”

Oh, Suguru Geto, was a psychopath.

“I don’t know why you act in front of those two, it would be much easier if you were just yourself.”

He hummed to himself robotically, possibly contemplating it, though his brain probably came up with ten reasons why he shouldn’t.

“If I did, then how could I use those two later?”

“They’re our friends, Suguru.”

“Your friends.” Suguru emphasised, unlocking the door for Satoru. “I have no concept of friends, I don’t see the point. You’re the closest thing to a friend I have.”

“I guess so.” No point in arguing.

As he strolled in, most people would have jumped at the sight of the woman restrained and gagged in the bath tub full of ice water, but not Satoru. Having a woman tied up and eyeing him with those huge puppy eyes like that was more often than not, at Suguru’s place. She couldn’t say anything, clearly, still very much Suguru’s type and incredibly big chested this time. Suguru yanked her up by her hair, getting directly behind her like Satoru had watched countless times.

“I mean we are in the same job. Makes sense for us to network with each other.” Suguru always liked to try and remind Satoru.

But he was wrong, so wrong. “No, you make people disappear and give their organs to Shoko to sell. I make them vanish and then deliver them back to the shitty streets in better condition than before. We are not the same.”

“Maybe, but you still enjoy it though.”

He did, but his reasoning was entirely different to Suguru’s.

Boredom.

“So how did she end up here?”

“Shoko needed a set of lungs for a donor. Picked her up on the street corner because her phone died, walked back with me like I paid her.”

For someone so calculated, he’s awfully predictable.

“You fucked her first, didn’t you?”

Suguru shrugged and pulled his knife out, running the steel edge over her jaw until she realised and squirmed. “Of course I did, I’m not entirely cold blooded Satoru. She was surprisingly easy, though just as idiotic as I assumed when she tried to leave… they always try to leave.”

Of course they did. If anyone found out about this place, they couldn’t leave exactly, not without some sort of insurance policy in place. It was why Satoru got an apartment originally, so that if he wanted to fuck some random girl to pass the time, he could.

Though Suguru brought them back here just as an excuse.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Suguru ran the knife over the girls throat quickly, bleeding her like a stuck pig into the bath without as much of a twitch at his lips.

"Things got a lot more interesting tonight."

Satoru perched himself on the toilet seat and watched the red leave her body in quick pumps over the ice, the light faded from her eyes quicker than most. And just like that, she was dead.

Shoko had a few hours to extract the organs before they became useless, a long drawn out process Satoru couldn't bare to be involved with again, not after last time.

Way too much alcohol for my nose to bear.

“They know we were talkin’ on the phone when you took that guy last week. He woke up halfway through. They found him quicker than I thought.”

“Which guy?” Suguru wiped up his hand with an old cloth and threw it on the woman like garbage.

“The one I told you to grab for that test.”

“Oh…” Satoru could tell that Suguru was just as forgetful as he was about the man he didn’t care about. “But he wasn’t a man you needed to die for certain though, right?”

“No, but whatever drug you’re using to put them to sleep isn’t as effective as it claims.”

Suguru scratched his chin, stepping out of the tub to strip out of his wet clothes down to his underwear. “Ino ensured me it was a good chemical. Maybe I’ll have a word with him”

“Ino is a forger, not a dealer. Speak to Shoko, she might know someone… and leave Ino alone, we need him.”

“Unfortunately.”

Satoru slumped and impassively pouted, giving up on combatting Suguru’s stoicism. “He’s essential to recycling those passports, it’s a better source of income than your… whatever it is you do half the time- I know Shoko doesn’t go on it fifty-fifty with you.”

He shrugged. “I have other methods of income. More interesting than your… worker bee job you’ve decided to give yourself.”

I’m not getting into that tonight. I’m exhausted.

“Look, next time, use a better drug and watch what you say on the phone before you move anyone else on my behalf, okay?”

“Oh, I doubt it’ll matter, Satoru. We never use names, nothing noteworthy. I can get rid of the man if you need, it makes no difference to me.”

“Nah… he doesn’t remember enough to make him worth it. All it’ll do is make my job harder, and I wanna focus on-“

“Your new girlfriend?” He said it so matter-of-factly.

Were you his girlfriend? Definitely not.

“So we're being immature tonight?”

For once, Suguru smiled, though it was entirely artificial. “If there were posters of her face, you’d have them fixed to your bedroom wall.”

While that may have been true, it came from a place of infatuation, not emotional attachment.

“I’m interested in seeing how far she’ll go.” And maybe seeing if she’ll sleep with me.

He had a bet to win after all, he was winning that kiss some way or another. Winning you over became a challenge more treacherous than taking his next victim who he’d planned on taking in two days time.

“I’m sure she’ll go very far with you, Satoru. Just batter your eye lids like you usually do and I’m sure she’ll get on her knees in no time.”

“She’s a lot tougher than her reputation promotes.” Standing up, Satoru slipped his hands in his pockets to leave to his own place and sleep. “It’ll be a challenge, and I’m excited for it.”

“You really think she’ll be the closest to finding out who you are?”

He shrugged and began his little stroll out of Suguru’s bathroom-slash-crime scene. “Who knows? If she does, I’ll kill her, but if she doesn’t, I’ll be dissapointed. Either way, the chase is what I’m craving.”

Satoru recalled your announcement with a grin. “She accepted my invitation to play the game, so let’s see if she plays fair, or takes the next step… because I love a girl who plays dirty.”

Chapter Text

“Thanks for the lift.” You eyed your apartment building, dark, eerily unused this time of night.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. “In four hours.”

“Why don’t you just stay here tonight?” You said, collecting your things and readying yourself for the door handle.

He weighed on it, looking out of the windshield and clicking his tongue. You waited a second and slouched, the man always took ages making the most mundane decisions.

“I have leftovers and cable. Beats the half hour drive back to your place. Make up your mind or I’m leaving you out here in the cold.”

Choso slouched too and turned off the engine. “Okay, but I’m not sleeping on the sofa this time. And I get the bigger portion of leftovers.”

Like you were going to eat this late, not after the buzz you’d gotten from the day's events and there was plenty more to go for tomorrow. You had to send the Hollow Purple Killer a message somehow, and challenge him yourself to find his next victim before you were inevitably looking for a corpse instead.

You could do it, you knew you could. With Choso at your side and the specialist task force, you were confident that this time would be the last time H.P.K would ever take you and the team for a ride, and stop plaguing the city with death when he sat behind bars.

Choso followed behind you up to your apartment, closing the door behind him and headed straight for the refrigerator. You however, aimed for the shower to strip away the hospital and dank basement yuckiness before slipping into bed.

Consistently throughout the entire shower, your mind raced over the details, contemplating what H.P.K looked like. He was walking amongst the general public, somewhere close by watching you and the team, stalking your every move.

How could he not? It must have been how he was always three steps ahead this whole time. It was one particular trademark that serial killers kept something to remind themselves of their artwork. Some took teeth, or a specific body part, some took photos and made a grotesque album of their victims' last moments. Some serial killers stood and watched the police run about like headless chickens preserving evidence before a thunderstorm rolled by and washed it away before they could put the tents up.

Every serial killer collected something, no matter how insignificant it might appear to be.

It all had meaning.

You were so out of it, partially due to exhaustion, mostly due to your overstimulated brain, you didn’t even hear Choso’s knocks at the door until he pounded on it.

“Yeah?!”

“I need to brush my teeth, you still have that spare?”

Shit, how long had you been in there? You clocked onto the beet redness of your bare chest under the waters steamy pressure, stinging in that good way you could see your fingerprints on it like sunburn.

“Uh, yeah, come in!”

The bathroom door clicked open and closed on the other side of the shower curtain. You listened to Choso rummaging through your little cupboard while the water sprayed against the wall.

“You’ve been in there ages, though you might have gotten lost.”

If you stepped out now, your ideas might be lost on you, into the void if you deviated from the current task. So you stayed in there, not even bothering with Choso in the room while your brain throbbed with questions.

“I think he’ll hit Kabukicho. I don’t think he’ll skip this one, do you?”

For the longest time, Choso didn’t answer, brushing his teeth no doubt in deep thought while you stood under the same water spray on the other side of the curtain. When he did, it intrigued you.

“Do you think that for sure? I’m not so sure. What if he expects you to think that?”

You did give it a thought, but H.P.K was hyper intelligent. If he was challenging you, he wasn’t going to purposefully lead you astray in the completely wrong direction, but divert you in a way that you’d have to find the scent on your own. Something was telling you that he was going to stay, not leave. Despite Kaito Itsuku’s kidnapping, he wasn’t a victim as such in H.P.K’s style.

It was merely a test.

“We stay in Kabukicho. That’s where he’ll hit, I just know it.”

“All right then… You know I’ll hopelessly follow you, boss.” Choso’s voice came clear after the water shut off, his sarcasm oozing through the shower curtain.

You held out your hand for the towel and took it from him, wrapping yourself up before revealing your dripping body. “I do, we stick to the plan for now. But I want to speak to Mr. Itsuku again tomorrow, he might give us something else to work with.”

“You mean today, right? It’s already two thirty.”

“Damn, I’m beat.” You lead the way through to your bedroom, padding away with drips of water Choso scoffed at as he attempted to tiptoe around it so that his socks didn't get wet. “Don’t even think about stealing the left side, Cho.”

He paused mid sit, his back facing you so that you could get dried and dressed. “Well, how are you supposed to get dressed if I’m gawking at you? It’s better I stay on this side.”

“Don’t be an asshole. It’s my apartment, therefore I get the left side.” You dropped your towel and rummaged through your drawer for underwear and an oversized tee to sleep in.

Choso threw himself on the bed and studied the ceiling, ignoring your movement completely. “How are you supposed to get yourself a partner if you’re such a miserable sour puss?”

You could one up him on that. “How are you supposed to get yourself a partner when you don’t know the meaning of personal space?”

“Says the one that falls asleep on my shoulder.”

He had you there. “Says the one who slouches and moans at the weather report in the morning because it’s always inaccurate.”

“Fair enough.” He sat up and waited patiently.

“Okay, get off my side of the bed.” You trotted round scrunching your hair with the towel and glared at him until he scooted over.

“This bed is so comfy."

You recognised that wistful sigh anywhere. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What?” He lifted his head up, watching you closely.

“You are not moving in.”

He lazily smiled, almost partly chuckling. “I’d be so much closer to work.”

As much as you trusted the man with your life, you did not, however, trust him with your apartment key permanently. Your apartment was your safe haven from the chaos outside, somewhere you hardly spent time due to your job, so when you did, you treasured it. It was more productive being professional and platonic with Choso primarily during work hours, not to mention easier on your personal life.

A lone wolf.

“And you’d drive me crazy outside of work. Go and shower, you stink.”

Choso gave you the most genuine laugh and slipped out of bed, trudging out of sight. You laid back and wracked your tired brain over the Hollow Purple Killer while the shower ran, there were so many variables to consider.

The caller, it was one of the most prominent facts of this particular incident.

Was it H.P.K’s call outgoing, or incoming? Did he really have affiliates who were either linked to this or offering a small favour in his otherwise erratic schedule? In all the time he’d been active, H.P.K had never done anything  like this. So, was this new person someone he just picked up, or someone familiar?

Of course, H.P.K wasn’t that stupidly vague if he picked a random person to do a job of this high value. Whoever it was, H.P.K knew them personally, or through some means of honor amongst thieves. You were aware of the extent of Japan’s black market and how prominent the underground world was in affiliation to organ trading and falsified government documents.

You finally had more to go on, and with a second person involved, it gave you more reasonable grounds to look more closely into those channels than you had previously.

Until now, it was only the sapphires H.P.K got a hold of that would have had a solid link to the black market. Not the bodies, or their locations, not even the method of the killings, just those little rare sapphires no one seemed to know where they came from.

Choso came back shortly after with a towel wrapped around his waist. You paid no attention. 

“In my closet.”

“Hm?”

“You aren’t wearing the same clothes you waltzed in here with to sleep in my bed, crime scene stink clings. You left some stuff here the last time you stayed over, they’re in my closet.”

Staring up at the ceiling, you figured the best way to tackle the black market was to get official paperwork to search the underground tunnels first. You’d need to speak with Superintendent Yaga to get that passed before you ever stepped foot in there. At least three men, proof tactical vests and appropriate defences to clear what sounded like the boss level of a game.

“Do you think Yaga will give us the go ahead to put a team together to go down in the underground tunnels?”

“Nope.”

You rolled over and watched him rummage through your closet for a shirt, only in his boxers and shirtless. “Why not? We have probable cause now, H.P.K has affiliates, my bet is that we’ll find something down there… Kidnapper for hire? Black market jewel dealer, someone to concoct whatever drug they stuck Mr. Itsuku with. Everything is pointing in that direction.

Choso moved coat hangers and stray jackets and wooly jumpers it wasn’t cold enough to wear yet, he cursed and shoved the closet door closed before stuff fell out of it.

“You have too much stuff in there, I can barely move anything. I’ll stay in my boxers, just don’t hog the covers.”

The audacity. “Like I can with your lanky ass. Answer my question.”

He climbed into bed and tugged at the covers. “It’s not that I don’t think we have probable cause now, it’s just Yaga’s kind of like your father, he’s grumpy enough you lead the task force.”

Superintendent Masamichi Yaga was not your father, but the relationship you’d bonded with him over might as well have been that. In fact, Choso aside, he was the only man in high places who never treated you the way the other men did. He treated you with a mutual respect despite his place of authority and earned your unwavering respect in return.

“Well, I have a job to do, like we all do. I’ll convince him.”

“Good luck with that.” Choso rolled over to face you and closed his eyes as you turned the light off into complete darkness. “This bed really is comfortable.”

“Goodnight, Choso.” You said, ignoring the little cheeky smile growing at your lips.

You fell asleep fast, almost faster than Choso before his snoring staeted. Another reason you wouldn’t dare have him as a room mate. If you didn’t fall asleep fast enough, he was a freight train zooming past.

Still, you fell asleep all the same and managed to lull into a dreamless state to ease your brain from new facts and hard truths. 

H.P.K was coming to play dirty and low blow his way towards another victim. You had to play just as dirty and do whatever it took to get him in cuffs and learn the identity of the man plaguing Tokyo like a bad dream.

If he wanted to call you out and test you, you’d ace every single test he threw at you, because you were adamant that you and your task force would bring the Hollow Purple Killer to justice. 

For the victims, and for their families left behind to pick up the pieces.

Chapter Text

“You don’t need all that.”

Make up, only to prove you weren’t a walking corpse. You scoffed at Choso’s statement while he drove. “I wouldn’t if you didn’t snore so loud. This is why I insist you sleep on the sofa when we have late nights like that.”

Your apartment was a ten minute drive away from the station, Choso’s was half an hour from you, the entire way across the city with traffic all hours of the night. 

While it didn’t hurt to share a ride, you had to invest in ear plugs on the rare occasion it did happen. It was as though the tall giant sucked your life force from you while you slept. The closer he was, the more he drew from you.

Choso grunted and yawned, pulling off to a drive-in for coffee. “I don’t snore.”

“Bullshit.”

Before you could ask for your order, he was already reeling it off to the little speaker. When he pulled to the next window, he refused your offer to pay, pushing your credit card away.

“Are you really going to ask Yaga for this? I don’t think he’ll go for it. He’ll probably ask-”

“Don’t even say his name.”

Naoya Zenin. The police commissioner's son.

“He probably will though, you have to be prepared for it.” He received the coffees and pulled away, handing the beverages to you.

“Thanks Cho- look, this is our investigation, Zenin has nothing to do with this. He causes far too much drama. You remember what happened last time he and Sukuna were put in the same room?”

Choso struggled to hide his amusement. “He might be an arrogant prick, but his right swing is pretty impressive.”

How Sukuna managed to keep his job once Naoya’s father found out was a miracle. Despite the man’s temperament, he actually listened to you. It was possibly the longest disciplinary hearing you’d ever sat through.

“Okay, yes he threw a pretty good punch. But bringing him back, Sukuna won’t take that well. I could really do without that slimy bastard stinking up the place when we already have one NPA golden boy on our hands.”

I wonder if he’s quit already? Yesterday was a long day.

Sipping on your coffee, you rummaged around your pockets and huffed seeing how close the car was to the station. “Shit, where are my-”

Choso dangled your car keys in his hand, pulling into the station parking lot. You took them with acknowledgement, and sat waiting for the car to pull up next to your own you had left here before leaving for the hospital.

“Thanks.” You said, climbing out and popping your own car door open.

It was to ensure your car had everything in it as you left it last night, down to the discarded coffee cup and various hair clips piling up in the footwell of the passenger seat. Nothing was taken, to be honest, on your salary, your car was a piece of shit. Perfect really, nothing conspicuous.

“Here’s the puppy.”

Choso leant against his own car, arms folded with the biggest scowl you’d ever seen. Gojo had caught sight of you and Choso, his smile dropping a fraction before returning with a casual wave and disappearing into the station.

“N’arw, you are very territorial today, aren’t you?”

He shrugged and drank down the rest of his coffee. “Must be something they put in the water.”

“To be honest,” the car door closed and locked. “I thought he might have left after yesterday. I kinda put him through the wringer on his first day.”

“I’ve seen you work people harder than that.” Choso matched your pace towards the front double doors.

He had a point, but you wouldn’t give up on the hardened exterior you had built up around the workplace. “Only when they piss me off. He’s been… tolerable.”

“Tolerable, huh? That’s a new one.”

“I’m extending my vocabulary- hold the elevator!” You managed as soon as you entered, holding your arm up to catch Gojo about to close the doors at the end of the hall.

He did as he was told, Choso sighed and trudged inside after you. By geography’s standards, you were in between the two of them.

“Good morning.” Gojo looked right at you in your periphery.

You however, did not give him the same courtesy, watching the floor numbers increase. “Morning.”

Choso said nothing.

“So, yesterday was crazy, hm? I hardly got any sleep last night, I’m totally buzzed.”

Sleep… just the thought made your shoulders slouch that a cup of coffee couldn’t fix. It was down to the last half hour that you were getting comfortable, hugging your pillow and drooling down your cheek once Choso slipped out of bed to get ready.

“Whoever heard of sleep in this job.”

Trying to fight that pesky yawn failed every time you had to cover your mouth, though on the other hand, Gojo really did look like he’d just slept two whole days.

So full of energy…

“I’m learning so much on the stuff they don’t teach at the NPA.”

And eager too… “That’s good. I’m sure you’ll learn more today, too- Kamo, I need you to give the briefing this morning.”

Choso nodded and pulled out his phone for a quick scroll. You stood there in silence between the two men and tried to ignore the way Gojo kept looking at you like he was going to say something. But he never did.

It grated on you. Indecisiveness. Lack of following through.

“Is there something you want to say?” You finally looked at him.

“Uh, yeah, actually.” He fiddled with the strap of his bag, tapping his finger over the adjuster. “The briefing, I was wondering if I could possibly assist? I could really use the experience. Seeing as I was there, I thought that maybe…”

Far too early in the morning… The elevator doors opened and you stepped out first, catching a pointed glance from Choso behind his phone.

“Yeah sure- well, sit in on it first.” You nodded to Choso and gave him the reins to utilise the man or torture him. “Detective Kamo leads the briefing, listen to him, he’s got years of experience.”

You turned and left them to it, taking the rest of your coffee to your cramped office big enough for two people only. Answering emails was as mundane as it sounded, filtering through the crap people handed to you for no reason and diverted it to their proper channels.

It killed some time before Yaga came in.

Emails from departments you weren’t even involved with, most to do with performance issues from some of the team. Rowdiness, arrogance and lack of bed side manner- still not your problem but to those where the Kansai detectives came from. 

CC and forward. Not my problem right now.

“What the hell?” You noted one email in particular from an email you didn’t recognise. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

A chain mail with a cute little panda animation with a speech bubble. ‘Hello! U R Cute!’ It read, dancing on the page gleefully and pointing up to a link. You wouldn’t have thought twice about ignoring it, but due to your computer's viral protection and restriction, you were thinking to pass the time and find out which one of the animals from the pen sent this to you as some joke.

This is totally the weird type of shit Sukuna would send me just to piss me off.

It was nothing of notable importance, the link took you to the music streaming service. Before it played anything, you exited the window and cursed some unspeakable things under your breath and glared at the window into the briefing room. The blind was up, but Sukuna was nowhere to be found.

Superintendent Yaga was.

“Sir?” You shot out of your seat and trailed behind him. “Do you have a minute?”

Yaga’s office was at least three times the size of yours, adorned with certificates and headshots throughout his entire police career, photographs of his family and rare Oshie dolls lined along the shelf he had placed in specifically.

“Come in, I was hoping to see you today.” He sat down behind his desk and balanced his tinted reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Good work yesterday.”

You stood in the doorway waiting, hands placed properly behind your back. “I couldn’t have done it without the team, we’re really starting to mesh well.”

Mesh well was an overstatement, but you clearly saw that the integration between Kanto and Kansai were merging in its own way. Officers on both sides were working together in an odd way, but a way all the same.

Yaga nodded contently, shuffling some loose papers into a pile from the night before. “How’s Gojo doing?”

“He’s uh, he’s doing just fine….” 

He’d done well on his first day, though he was an odd one. You wanted to see if he’d even stick his first week. Maybe then you’d give him some time of day to better his career. Being part of the team who caught the Hollow Purple Killer would certainly elevate the career of everyone involved.

For someone fresh off of the National Police academy’s wings, you weren’t convinced he could handle joining this late in. But, you didn’t dare voice that thought to Yaga’s ears.

“...He’s showing initiative, which is promising.”

“Good- sit down. What did you want to talk about?”

Sitting down never seemed so stomach-twisting before. “Before I get into it, because I know what you’re going to say, but let me finish before you give me your answer.”

This enquiry rode on making leaps into H.P.K’s mind before he took another victim.

“Alright.” Yaga placed down the papers and rested on his loosely balled fist.

“We found out that whoever took our victim is suspected to be linked to the Hollow Purple Killer, now it could have been him or the other way around- it’ll be in more detail in the report I’m writing up today- and we now know there’s someone else involved. So, I’d like to look into the metro, the underground tunnels in Kabukicho are perfect for-”

“No.” He shook his head enthusiastically.

“You said you’d let me finish.” Naturally you were defensive.

“And there’s no point in letting you… Sukuna sent me his report last night.”

Why did that sound so ominous?

“He did?”

Yaga sighed, shaking his head to no one but himself. “And Zenin somehow caught wind of it.”

“And?” 

Gritting your teeth did not help the situation, it didn’t even help you. As if your lowered fists by the sides of your chair weren’t already shaking.

“And… Naoya is-”

You rose up out of your chair abruptly, hands flat on the desk with as much authority as you physically managed. “Don’t do this to me, Masamichi.”

“My hands are tied on this one.” Yaga appeared just as frustrated as you were. “But if it’s any consolation, you’ll pick a team of four to go in with you, like Naoya Zenin will. Eight people. I’m allowing eight people inside there with confirmation from the judge’s signature on the warrant.”

Any consolation? Choso may as well have written this, he predicted this would happen. What a start to a fucking shitty day. 

“When does he get here then?”

You couldn’t argue with it no matter how bad you wanted to. Once Naobito Zenin had an idea in his head and said jump, Yaga usually had no choice but to ask how high.

That fucking, thick skulled asshole. Naobito was a disaster.

Yaga checked his watch. “About an hour.”

Could my day get any worse?

“How long will I have to entertain his lordship?”

Naoya was no lord. No gentleman either.

“Just for the warrant. Don’t worry, he won’t impede on your investigation.”

“He better not, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions should he step out of line again. I’m not afraid to sit through another disciplinary hearing when I set Sukuna on his ass.”

You could definitely pay to watch Sukuna kick that man’s ass. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Keep them apart.” Yaga said, clicking his computer to life. “Naoya needs to work alongside you for now. Pair Gojo with Kamo for the time being, he can learn a lot from him.”

Wow, perfect solutions for shitty circumstances,

“Sure… Will that be all?”

He nodded sympathetically. “I know this will be difficult, but as soon as you get the warrant, make the search and get it over with, Zenin goes back to the rock he slithered out from.”

“Thanks for your time, sir.”

Formal use of his title was used from you for two reasons. Respect you naturally kept for him when conversing professionally. It was there merely to play the difference in authority, especially around those of similar ranks and ideals, The second was for when you were pissed off. It let him know to leave you alone and let it be the end of it before you blew the lid off this place.

You left straight for the briefing room, Choso wouldn’t like this news one bit. You wouldn’t survive without him, at least he managed to quell Naoya’s urges to make your existence minuscule around his big set of brass balls. He never threw them at anyone else in particular.

Only you.

“Hey boss!” One of the officers said as soon as you stepped foot into the room.

“Morning- carry on with the briefing.” You sat off to the side and caught Choso’s attention.

“Gojo, take over.” He stepped over to you without so much as a word to tell something was wrong. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk. Now.” 

You stood up to leave the room with Choso in tow and the room erupted into whistles and cat calls at the two partners whispering and leaving the room promptly.

“Someone’s in trouble!”

“Don’t go sneaking off together, what will the Superintendent think?!”

“Will you shout at me after, boss?”

They were all really testing your patience today. “Quit it, assholes. If you keep your traps shut for five minutes, I’ll have some pretty interesting news to share with you if you’re good.” You hesitated to leave and faced them again with another chip on your shoulder to round the morning off. “Also, whoever decided it was funny to send me a chain mail in my inbox, please don’t. My email is restricted to work only. Refrain from that crap, or I’ll hand out disciplinary’s like Dagashi, but I guarantee they won’t be as sweet, or cheap.”

They muttered amongst themselves with excitement right up until you closed the door rather aggressively. “Jesus Christ, I’ll hit someone today-”

“I hope it ain't me, then again, maybe it’ll set the mood.”

You and Choso froze, staring at each other at the voice none of you spoke with.

“Naoya.” It slipped past your lips with bitterness. “You’re early.”

His smug grin, stupid fucking face you wanted to step on so bad. “It pays to be early just to see the hopeless look on that pretty face of yours… oh sorry, was I interrupting something?”

“Kamo… Zenin will be joining us to search the metro tunnel premises once we secure a warrant. And only the warrant, correct?”

Naoya sat down on a desk that wasn’t remotely his. “Don’t go wishin’ me away just yet, I have plenty of time to actually push this investigation forward, seems you need a real man to get things goin’.”

“We’re doing just fine without you.” Choso glared at him like he was about to wrestle him over that desk and choke him out.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Naoya’s folded arms added pressure to the volatility. “That’s what happens when they put a woman in charge.”

That bastard just made it way more personal. Maybe allowing Choso to punch his lights out wouldn't be so bad.

Where’s Sukuna?

Chapter Text

“Alright boys, settle down.” It didn’t come out with as much oomph as usual.

They all noticed.

“Boss, everythin’ okay?”

You nodded, but it was only to convince yourself. “Yeah. Everything is fine- Gojo, could you sit down with the others, please? I have some things to go over before we continue.”

Scratching that spot on your neck when you were nervous or pushed into a corner never actually helped, it just distracted you. Not very well, but enough to make it to the podium. Gojo left and sat down right at the front with the most attentive look you’d seen thus far.

I was hoping Sukuna was going to be here… shit-fucking-asshole who’s aways late-

“There’s been some changes in how we’re moving forward with the investigation over the next few days. It won’t just be me leading going forward.” You gave Choso a look who had been standing in the doorway.

Plenty, if not all of the officers groaned and muttered amongst themselves. The feeling was mutual.

“We have someone else joining the task force for a few days-”

“The better half is here, gentlemen.” Naoya pushed past Choso and held his hand up as though he was collecting an award. He came to give his speech.

Then the Kansai officers cheered and hit the table the way drunks did at a brewery watching weekend sport.

“Zenin’s here!”

“What a fuckin’ coincidence!”

“How’s life treatin’ ya, boss?”

Of course they knew him, only the worst luck could give you a room full of rowdy officers you’d only just properly tamed that reverted back to their boisterous selves in less than a second.

“I’m here to put an end to the Hollow Purple Killer. Something your boss, hasn’t done yet.” He was eating it up, vomiting it back over the floor and allowing the men to eat at his feet.

You were helpless to it. Like fucking always.

Clearing your throat, you tried to grasp the confidence back. “Settle down, settle down- there’s more to go over.”

Nothing. Absolutely no change.

“Oi!” Choso settled the room in an instant, he deep voice booming around the room to disrupt the Osaka detectives childish behaviour. “You‘ve been asked to settle down, so do it.”

“Shit… what crawled up your ass, Kamo?”

“Your Detective Chief inspector is trying to brief the room. So listen.” He stood there like a bouncer, hands folded over the other, shoulders naturally straight and chest puffed out for dominance.

“Thank you, Kamo. Now-”

“Wait a minute.” Naoya turned, looking directly through him. “You might outrank these fine men, but you don’t outrank me. Pipe down.”

The fact was, Naoya looked down on you because you were a woman. It was a known fact that women never seemed to last long in his professional company. They all quit shortly after working with him.

You were the only one who stayed after his first barrage.

“And I outrank both of you, though you still seem to make it your life mission to prove that blunt fact wrong. Naoya, sit down.”  

“Only in title. No in… experience. To think that I’m helpin’ you and I get this treatment?”

He took it upon himself to make your life a living hell whenever you and he were in proximity.

Promptly ignoring him was a common tactic you implemented. “Now, there’s been some updates surrounding the Hollow Purple Killer, I’m outlining it all in the report later today, so read up when it sits in your inbox.”

Naoya whispered something under his breath to another officer. You didn’t know what it was, but it drew stifled snickers from the officers, so nothing constructive.

“Just this morning, Superintendent Yaga has confirmed that he will be chasing for a warrant to search the disused Metro tunnels in relation to the black market we’ve surmised over. It’ll be outlined in the report, but we believe there is a second person helping H.P.K and their ties to the black market are promising.”

After the brief pause to collect yourself, Gojo held up his had before you could continue.

“Yes?”

“What is the goal? Y’think we’ll find a secret hideout or something?”

Good point. “If there’s help for hire, it might be linked to the missing persons. Though by the time we find the body the organs are destroyed, this could also knock out two birds with one stone in discovering the hike in organ selling over the last few years that has come up at dead end, after dead end… In other words, there’s a lot riding on this.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Sukuna stepped through the doorway, hand in his pocket carrying a cup of coffee and bags under his eyes darker than the nail polish you were constantly asking him to remove. 

He ignored Naoya when he eyed him the entire way over to the empty seat next to Gojo and slumped down with a yawn and slurp of his coffee.

“Wow, up before noon eh?” Naoya had his next target.

Sukuna stuck his middle finger up mid drink and settled himself down without so much as a word. You saw Naoya’s jaw subtly tense up, about to say something nuclear.

“So.” You cut in. “It’s good to see you here, Sukuna. I trust you heard all that then?”

The one time you’d be accommodating to his lateness? When Naoya was here. Enemies-to friends-to-enemies later on.

“Yeah, I heard it.”

“Good. The plan is to form two groups of four. Detective Zenin and myself will lead, suited and booted, full tactical gear.”

An Osaka officer put his hand up. “How are ya choosin’?”

“You’ll have the opportunity to put yourselves forward, as soon as we know the decision of the warrant, we’ll choose our teams.”

They chattered amongst themselves while you waited for them to settle down, though naoya had different ideas. He stepped up to the podium and invaded your personal space, grinning and watching the reactions of the rest of the room.

“C’mon, we both know my team could do this single handedly. You look tired, why don’t y’let me lead for a while, hm? Gives you time to do your hair, or whatever the fuck it is that you women do.”

“I’ll be back to solely leading this investigation when you leave. You don’t interfere."

“Woah.” He threw up his hands and spoke loud enough for the team to hear. “Calm down, I only wanted to say thank you for workin’ with me. I ain’t tryin’ to steal your position.”

Out of everything, undermining your position was the lowest of the low. Your body trembled, quivered with an anger you only held in reserve for Naoya’s misogynistic views.

Everyone was staring, no one said anything.

You were going to kill Noaya Zenin in front of everyone. Right here, right now.

“Listen-”

“I volunteer.”

Gojo held up his hand, sat there next to Sukuna up straight as though the spirit of a school kid had possessed him. Even though it distracted you from the growing cancer that was in the form of Noaya’s pathetic attributes, now wasn’t exactly the time.

“Uh, Gojo, I haven’t written the report up yet to be taking on voluntary requests yet.”

“Sorry, I was goin’ to volunteer to join Detective Zein’s team.”

Total and utter smack in the face. 

“Right… Well that’s up to Zenin to decide, but I think for now we can uh- Kamo, can you finish the debriefing please? I need to speak to Detective Zenin outside.”

Did working all last night really force Gojo away to work with Naoya instead? Was this a punishment set to embarrass you in front of everyone?

“My office, Zenin. Now.”

You’d never walked so quick, damn near tearing the door off its hinges to try and calm yourself before you blew up in his face.

“If you wanted me all on your own, you should have just said. I’m game for a pity fuck now and then.”

As soon as the door closed, you went subtly nuclear, aware that Yaga’s office was next door. “Do not undermine me in front of my officers. Are we clear?”

Naoya sat on your desk, ignoring the chair right by his side to sit on, only to put his feet on the seat. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that you commanding those guys back there? You could’a fooled me. I thought we were at a fuckin’ tea party.”

Your desk was supposed to be a barrier to hold back your defensiveness, but it only put him at a distance for breathing room.

“This is my team. My investigation. Don’t swan in here and think you can stir it up. We’re making progress for the first time in months, and you are seeking to destroy that? It’s taken me ages trying to unite everyone from very different backgrounds. You treat them like your buddies, you’ll create a divide again. I was promised you wouldn’t impede this investigation and I will take Yaga’s word.”

He tutted, he fucking tutted at you with that toxic bullshit he carried around with him. “You need to take something for your blood pressure. Yer way too hysterical.”

“I’ll show you fucking hysterical.”

“Please do, it turns me on. Just like seeing a pathetic bitch like you fail. Your choice.”

In an instant, you were tiny, minuscule, and now your office didn’t seem so cramped. Naoya always had the knack to minimise your authority and look flawless doing it. If it continued, you’d have no choice but to follow it up with Yaga, especially is he was poaching your own officers.

“You’re here for the warrant, that is it. Then you can fuck off back to Kansai and leave this investigation alone.”

Noaya surpassed the desk, skulking about like he owned the place. His eyes were fixated on you, nothing else could have taken his interest. The space between you and he diminished to no more than a metre.

“We both know I would have solved this way before you. You’re traipsing around in the dark and have no clue. It’s the fact of leaving someone like you in charge. That serial killer is walkin’ circles around you because he knows you’re weak. We all know you’re weak.”

The thing was despite his barrage of insults, once it stopped stinging and you managed to get one deep breath in, it turned into more determination than you knew what to do with.

“Say what you want, I’m the one really making the decisions here, not you.”

He ignored it and relaxed his tense shoulders, turning back towards the door because he decided the conversation wasn’t worth carrying on with. “Oh, and I’m takin’ that white haired guy on my team. Doesn’t matter if he’s good or not, he belongs to you so I’m keepin’ him for now. Just because I can.”

Your office door closed just as you sat down, fizzled out already and he’d not even been here ten minutes. Naoya did this every time and managed to create a narrative you always fell victim to. Superintendent Yaga knew the score, he was aware of Naoya’s personality just like his father’s. Choso copped it too, you just happened to get the brunt of it because of the body parts you had.

No penis equalled harassment.

The door opened again with no one knocking. “Naoya, get out of my office-”

“Oh… Gojo.” Well that was certainly something you didn’t expect. “What did you need?”

You tried not to be standoffish with him, even though he’d publicly betrayed you. He closed the door behind him, but you weren’t planning on having him there long enough to warrant it as a possibility.

“I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“You snuck out of Detective Kamo’s debriefing to ‘see if I was okay’. Is that correct?”

“Well, he thinks I went to use the restroom.” He sat down in the chair uninvited. “I figured I’d check in on you.”

“So you lied to a superior officer just to come and check on me?” This was ridiculous.

He nodded slowly and carried through with more enthusiasm. “I know it’s not my place,  but I’ve worked out the type of guy Zenin is. It was uncomfortable, and the majority of the guys agree.”

He was entirely correct. It was not his business.

“So you’ve all been talking about it- this is just great- Gojo, leave it. I’m fine, go back to the briefing room.”

Enough said.

“I’m sorry to-”

“Now, please.”

As if your temper wasn’t thin enough already.

“Okay.”

Satoru opened the door. Choso was standing there with a vein popping out by his forehead.

“What are you doing in there?” He said, neither stepping aside nor greeted him with indifference.

“Nothin’, just asking the DCI something.”

You waved Choso in, collecting Sukuna’s notes you’d only just noticed scattered over your desk. “He’s leaving now, Kamo. Come in.”

Choso closed the door behind Gojo and threw a lazy thumb in his direction. “What was that about?”

Throwing yourself back into the chair, you sighed. “I’m not really sure to be honest. He came in to check on me- who does that?”

“Me. I do. People who care about you.”

“But you’re, you. And him… he’s, him. We don’t know each other.”

Choso sat down where Gojo had just been, resting his elbows on his knees. “He wants in your pants.”

“Ew, he does not.”

“He does. I knew it right from the minute he walked into this place…” You did not dignify him with a response, Choso took a pen from the desk to fiddle with. “What went on with Zenin?”

“The usual.” Nothing else to say.

“What did he say?”

“The usual.”

“What an asshole.”

“You’re telling me-”

The door knocked and you didn’t even answer, far too early in the morning for more shit on your already stacked plate you were trying to balance. It opened anyway, Superintendent Yaga came in looking rather positive.

“Am I interrupting?”

“No.” You said, nodding him in. Choso shot up from his seat and stepped off to the side. “Come in sir, is everything okay?”

“Spare the formalities, Kamo. I come bearing good news. I’ve just gotten off the phone with the judge, and she’s rushing through the warrant. You’ll have it by the end of the day.”

Perfect.

“When can we-”

“You have until tomorrow night to prepare. Then you can execute the warrant come morning.”

During a shit day, there was always space for good news.