Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Atsumu has to laugh. He has to, because this has got to be some kind of punchline to the world’s most elaborate joke. His brother is the Death Club President? Osamu. Osamu? No, it doesn’t make any sense. It clearly has to be a shitty prank, and someone is gonna jump out and yell ‘surprise’.

…

Atsumu’s fake laughs fade, “C…come on. ‘Samu, quit playin’ around…it’s not funny.” He says. Osamu just stares silently at his brother, twirling the mask in his hands without a care in the world. The nonchalant attitude puts Atsumu further on edge, “I’m serious, dude! Untie us already!”

“I know you don’t always get to the conclusion first, but surely you realise that this is a lot just for a joke, right? I mean, only one mask like this exists and I’ve got it right here,” Osamu says in a bored manner, “Besides, you’re not really the one I’m focusing on right now so keep quiet,” He looks back over to Kuroo, “So? Anything to say? This is the answer to the big mystery you’ve been chasing.”

Kuroo clenches his teeth, “You killed Kenma.”

“Yes.” He states, then shrugs.

Kuroo blinks, “That’s it? ‘Yes’?! You’ve killed all those people and that’s all you have to say?! What the fuck did any of them do to deserve all the shit you’ve done, huh?!”

Osamu pushes himself off the teacher’s desk and walks around to the blackboard and picks up the chalk, “I was planning on telling you. Figured it was the right thing to do for my last attempt to end all of this.” He taps the chalk under what’s already been written on the board.

’Death Club is in session!

Osamu stares at the words and then cranes his head to take in the sight of all the boys staring at him. The feeling in his chest swells. Pride? He isn’t entirely sure at the moment, but he has the time to figure it out. “I guess I should decide on where to start…”

__________

“How can you say so confidently that Miya Osamu is the killer?!” Tsukishima shouts ahead to Akaashi. The two, along with Kiyoko, have been heading to the school at a full-sprint without any sign of slowing down.

“Osamu-san is a member of the cooking club, one of the clubs that Hinata-san was also in! However, Hinata-san would have naturally latched himself to Yamaguchi-san for the limited time he was a member due to them knowing each other prior! That’s why he didn’t remember Osamu-san’s name!”

“Didn’t you say that the killer is strong enough to overpower Bokuto-san though! Someone athletic!” Kiyoko points out.

“Before Osamu-san joined the cooking club, he and Atsumu-san were an unrivalled pair in the basketball club! When Atsumu-san got told he would be the basketball club president, Osamu-san switched over to the cooking club!” Akaashi has to thank the heavens for the gossip supercomputer known as Suna Rintaro for not being able to keep any secrets to himself.

“But they’re brothers, they live together! There’s no way Osamu-senpai could go around killing everybody without Atsumu-senpai noticing!” Tsukishima argues.

Akaashi stops at a crossroad and turns to the two, giving them all a chance to catch their breath, “That’s the thing. I was speaking to Atsumu-san this morning and he told me that Osamu-san has been living on his own since the start of the school year. That’s why nobody was suspicious of him, because nobody is around at home to see him in the aftermaths of the killings.”

Kiyoko hesitates, “What about Kozume-kun?”

Akaashi bites his lip, “This is just speculation on my part. However, the day all six of us met in the restaurant for the first time, Kozume-san was asked to hang out with Atsumu-san because Bokuto-san gave him Kozume-san’s phone number. Since those two were hanging out and Osamu-san is also in Kozume-san’s class, it’s possible Osamu-san could have also received Kozume-san’s phone number…but I can’t say that definitively. It was never brought up if something like that happened. Or, not to me in any case.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for the killer to be Atsumu-kun then?” Kiyoko asks.

Tsukishima shakes his head, “Atsumu-senpai was hanging out with Kozume-senpai when we were all running away from the Death Club President. Which means he has an alibi.”

Akaashi nods, “And nobody else in the school even comes close to fitting the description we have. It’s not a guarantee but we need to get to the school anyway. Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san aren’t answering their phones so-“ Akaashi stops himself before his emotions start to overwhelm him. He takes a deep breath, “-Something must have happened. The killer has to be there, so whether it’s Osamu-san or not, we have to be there.”

Kiyoko and Tsukishima nod, “Then let’s get this bastard.” Tsukishima says.

__________

Osamu sets the chalk down gently and sighs. The silence sits heavily among the students in the room. This might be a terrible time for Osamu to reveal he totally hates public speaking, that’s the kind of information that stops people from taking you seriously. Wait, will Atsumu catch onto that? Probably not. He’s worried about other things. “Are we just gonna sit here in silence? This is usually the part where the villain has his big monologue about his motives and…y’know.” Tendou says.

“Is that what you’re wanting to hear?” Osamu asks, only to receive no answer, aside from Tendou’s half-shrug. Osamu sucks his teeth and nods, “Fine. You know this school is a complete joke, right? I mean, it boasts so much about the success of the students that graduate, but you know they manipulate that information. Right, Kita-senpai?”

Kita’s eyes shift to the side, “From what I learned from the previous student council president, the school has a…tendency to only keep track of their well-performing students after they graduate. Ergo, those are the people that tend to end up in the statistics.”

“And how many of the ‘well-performing students’ are former club presidents or members of the student council?”

“The majority, I believe.” Kita answers, his voice marginally quieter.

“You don’t know the actual number? It’s seventy-three percent. The other twenty-seven percent are students that weren’t club presidents or student council members, and despite being called successful, I can promise none of them got as far as those who were club presidents or student council members did.” Osamu says.

“How do you know all of that?” Kita asks.

“It’s all on the internet, you just need to Google it. The only reason it’s not more widely known is because the school uses its influence to keep all those articles outta the main spotlight. Hence why there’s so many positive things said about this place to this day. Obviously, they keep track of a few that don’t succeed. If they didn’t have a success rate of less than one-hundred percent, people would clearly know something is up. Think about it though, almost all of the students that don’t get those limited positions are abandoned by the school’s system. Ain’t that insane?” Osamu asks.

“So, what? Nobody ever claimed this school was perfect. None of this explains why you did what you did!” Kuroo retorts.

Osamu looks away in thought. What he means didn’t really come across, he guesses. “Imagine what it’s like to be the common students here. Those students that are practically doomed to fail because this school doesn’t give a shit about them. A school that’s too focused on those elites. The top ten in the exams, the council members, the club presidents, and co-captains…you guys can’t. Because you all get to relish those benefits. The recommendations, the promise of a future, your life is set. The rest of us are pretty much left to burn.”

Tendou hums with amusement, “Ohhoho~ I see what this is about. It’s all about jealousy in the end, isn’t it?”

“That’s part of it, yeah. I know myself well enough to be aware that jealousy’s a factor,” Osamu agrees, catching Tendou off-guard, “But beyond that, it’s also about endin’ the cycle of putting those students on a podium. This school has fed the idea that these exclusive titles are what’ll set you for life. That they’re gonna make or break you. And, in this school? That’s the truth…”

“But that’s not our fault! That’s the staff-“

“Hey, ‘Tsumu? Shut the hell up, will you?” Osamu cuts in, “Because of the school system you get people who are undeserving who will end up with a guaranteed success. You end up with people who have no passion for what they do, but end up in the positions anyway…” He locks eyes with Tendou, “Also known as your ‘Semi Eita’s.”

Tendou’s eyes narrow, “Don’t you dare say that about him.”

“You get people who are so favoured by the system that they can pick any club and become the club president. Your ‘Oikawa Toru’s.” Terushima’s eyes hit the floor when Osamu glances over at him. Kuroo reminds himself that Oikawa was expected to be the volleyball club president before his knee injury, then entered the drama club halfway through his 2nd year.

“And of course…your ‘Miya Atsumu’s.” Osamu says slowly.

Atsumu shrinks back in his seat, “Me?! Come on, I didn’t do anything-“

“You’re the worst of them all!” Osamu yells suddenly, making his audience jump. Osamu rights his expression and breathes, “You and I were always partners in basketball, even if you got cocky every now and then, we always relied on each other. Then, halfway through first-year, you got told you’d be club captain after tournament season. All of a sudden, nothing I ever did for you was good enough. I wasn’t quick enough, my shots and my passes weren’t precise enough, I was never where I was supposed to be…” Osamu’s fists clench tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, “You became a tyrant…

“That’s why, during our last term in 1st year, I switched to the cooking club. I always knew I was good at cooking, and everybody in the club praised me a lot for it. I felt like it was finally something I could do on my own without needing to be compared to you…then 2nd year came around. I go back to the club room one day; a month or so ago and I hear Hanamaki talking to Oikawa, and he says it so casually. ‘Yamaguchi is definitely my first choice for the next president’.”

Kuroo and Bokuto both look at each other then back to Osamu, “Hold on! Yamaguchi Tadashi?! He was gonna be the next cooking club president?!” Bokuto says.

Osamu’s eye twitches, “Yeah. I had actually gone over to that neighbourhood to stakeout his house and hoped a chance to kill him would present itself. Then I saw Tendou-senpai leave the house across the street which turned out to be Semi-senpai’s and…well, you know what happened from there. It sounds petty, but I just couldn’t stand that he got picked. Over me. Over any 2nd year. You know, it’s one thing to be a 3rd year getting passed up for a captain position, it’s a completely different thing to be a 3rd year getting passed up for a 2nd year. I worked so hard to build a chance for myself outside of ‘Tsumu’s shadow, only for Hanamaki to ruin it all. And then only a week or so later, Yamamoto gets told he’s gonna be the soccer club captain. And…I think I might have lost it that day when I got home.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. It wouldn’t matter if I graduated or not by that point. I wasn’t anywhere near the top ten students, and I had lost anything else I could have used to get something good out of this school…and I finally realised what it was like to be a normal person that attends a school with a reputation for producing excellence.

“So, I planned it carefully. If I could get the school deemed unsafe, then they would have to shut it down eventually. Even this school would never stay open while its students were getting killed off, I figured…but, no matter what I did, the school just stayed open. I did consider just killin’ the principle, but he would’ve just been replaced with someone potentially worse. So, takin’ away the star students was my best bet. I killed on-campus, and off-campus, I killed at the girl’s school, I did what I had to do…but nothin’. I’m in too deep now though, I have to finish what I started, otherwise what’s the point?”

Osamu makes his way behind the teacher’s desk and lifts a black backpack onto the desk. He quietly and methodically unzips the backpack and lays out onto the table: a kitchen knife, a butcher’s hook, a meat cleaver, a potato peeler, then leans back down and pulls out a baseball bat from underneath the desk and places it down. “I tried a lot of different weapons to see what fits, but…in the end…” He picks up the kitchen knife, “someone who wants to be a chef is always best suited for a knife.”

“It must be late by now! People will be out looking for us!” Terushima yells.

“Probably not. Phones nowadays are great because everything is all about face-IDs or fingerprint-IDs, so it was pretty easy to get into your phones and text your parents something standard. ‘We don’t know how long this meeting might go on for. I’ll text you when I get out, but it will probably be later on’. And it’s…” He checks his watch, “just passing six. So, I think I have another hour until people get seriously worried.”

“We never did anything to deserve this.” Kuroo growls.

“I do feel the most sorry for you and Bokuto-senpai. You guys were never part of the plan.” Osamu says casually.

“Wait, what does that mean?” Bokuto asks.

“I mean…you were part of the plan, but then I became friends with Kozume-kun. And, you know, I really liked Kozume-kun. He saw that this school had nothing for him, so he created his own space. He founded the gaming club because he knew nowhere else suited him and I admired him for it. I couldn’t put him on the same level as everybody else. So, the plan was that you two along with Kozume-kun would get to play the ‘survivors of the tragedy’ part. And then the other day happened, and I found out you had been sticking your noses in this case…and the situation changed.”

“You didn’t have to kill Kenma! If it was us you were after, you should have just left Kenma alive! He should be alive right now!” Kuroo barks.

“He should, yes,” Osamu agrees, “But I couldn’t kill you and leave Kozume-kun with that kind of awful grief. Death was the better option for him, I think. Don’t you think he would’ve had a harder time dealing with the grief than you?”

“Don’t,” Kuroo warns, “Don’t even try and pass off what you did as kind or merciful. You did it to hurt me and it’s nothing more than that.”

Osamu shrugs, “Believe what you want. It won’t matter soon enough. Once this last plan is finished, it’ll be over,” He takes in the expression of each boy individually, “Even I’m surprised I got this far. Then again, it gets pretty easy once you figure out what you’re good at. And then sometimes you find that luck is just on your side.”

“What do you mean that luck is on your side?” Kita questions.

Osamu softly carves the wood of the desk with the kitchen knife as he speaks, “I needed a way to gather you all in the same space for the ending of it all. I was willing to wait it out and plan something myself, but then I heard about the meeting from ‘Tsumu. It was perfect. You’d all be there together, all I had to do was knock you out and tie you up,” His unarmed hand goes into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a prescription bottle, “So I just took ‘Tsumu’s sleepin’ medication and laced the meat buns I made.”

Atsumu stares at the bottle in Osamu’s grasp, “That’s why I couldn’t find those? Because you stole them for this?”

Osamu nods and nonchalantly puts the bottle back in his pocket, “The plan wasn’t perfect. These are prescription level drugs so any of you could have taken enough to kill you if you were hungry enough, or you might have not eaten them at all. Though I think everyone was willing to at least have one since it was right after club activities. Another way luck seemed to favour me.”

“You won’t get away with this, you know. There are people that will catch you-“

“You mean the rest of your friends that were at the school the other day? I’m not really worried. Akaashi will probably be the biggest problem, I doubt he’d give up even after you’re all dead. However, the police will conclude the case after I’m done, and I’ll never be suspected.” Osamu says.

Tendou laughs. It makes the row of boys in front of him jump, but he doesn’t care. His laughter is loud and obnoxious, filled with snorts and gleeful giggles that makes Osamu’s skin crawl, he calms down and just grins at Osamu, “Sorry, sorry. I can’t help it. You…you just sound like such a cliché, y’know? You’re a little hard to take seriously.”

“Satori-“ Ushijima warns.

Osamu stabs the knife into the teacher’s desk hard enough for it to stick in the wood and stand, the sound making the whole room flinch. He slowly strolls up to Tendou until he’s standing right in front of him, right behind Kuroo, and glowers down at him. “You, out of everybody, should probably be the most concerned about what happens next, Tendou-senpai.”

Tendou’s lips curl upwards, “Do tell~ because you know that you need me alive in order to pin the blame on someone. I’m the only person you could pin this all on. And yet you’ve got me here, saying you’ll kill me? You don’t have a way out if you do.”

Osamu steps to the side of the desk and pulls Tendou’s head back by his hair, earning a painful whine from the boy. Finally, a sound that doesn’t grate on Osamu’s ears. Osamu stares blankly into Tendou’s eyes, his mouth displaying only a fraction of a smile, “You think so? I saw your paintings; they were really good. I’m sure the police reports will mention them when they rule today as a murder-suicide.”

Tendou’s body tenses, “And how exactly would that happen?”

Osamu lets go of Tendou’s hair and walks back over to the front desk. He reaches underneath and pulls out a jerrycan. Kuroo’s heart almost stops when Osamu brings it into view, “Simply put? I’m gonna make it look like you killed yourself via self-immolation. Or rather, I’ll slit your throat and then set you on fire. When the police find your charcoaled body, they’ll assume you used yourself as the fire’s source to kill everyone then slit your own throat to take the easy way out.”

“The autopsy would reveal the truth.” Kita argues.

“The autopsy would say that the cause of death was a throat slit, which it will be. It’ll probably be a little more difficult to tell if he was set on fire before or after said throat slit, if possible, at all. Even if this trick doesn’t work, they haven’t had evidence to use on me thus far, that definitely won’t change.” Osamu counters.

“Then you’re just gonna kill us all by setting us on fire?!” Terushima cries.

“Not all of you, no. After all, every club has to have their club activities,” Osamu picks up the kitchen knife again and points it to each of the boys in front of him, “obviously, the Death Club is the same. After all, it wouldn’t be much fun if I killed everyone the same way.”

____________

Tsukishima, before today, would instinctively have described Akaashi as ‘subdued’, ‘polite’, or even ‘quiet’ (at least in comparison to who he chose to associate with). Most days, Tsukishima likely still would use those words.

However, today Akaashi has decided to be the exact opposite of any of those words as he angrily shakes the bars of the locked-up school gate. “The last staff member must have locked them thinking that all of the students would have left by now.” Kiyoko reasons, which only gets an aggravated huff out of Akaashi.

“Can we really be sure that they’re still here?” Tsukishima asks.

“There’s only one way to find out, but we need to get over the wall first,” Akaashi says, staring up at the stone wall, “If we stood on each other’s shoulders, we should be able to get over. However, we don’t know how much time we have.”

Tsukishima thinks for a few seconds. There isn’t another way, even if it’s a bad idea, “Then one person will just have to go on ahead whilst the other two stay behind to look for another way in. We don’t have time to waste pulling people up and over with the first person we get over.”

“We can’t afford to be reckless right now.” Kiyoko says.

“No. This is the time where we don’t have the luxury of caution. If the killer is in there, who knows how long we might have?” Tsukishima retorts, “We need to decide who’ll go on ahead. Honestly, I think I’m probably the one that-“

“You’re the tallest one here, Tsukishima-san. If you go on ahead then it may be hard for myself and Kiyoko-san to find another way over without you,” Akaashi says, his face turning stony again, “Allow me to go on ahead. I managed to get a hit in on the killer the other day and I know the school better than Kiyoko-san.”

“Akaashi-kun, are you sure?” Kiyoko asks.

“Please. Let me go on ahead,” Akaashi’s expression tightens, and he folds at the waist to bow at the two. Kiyoko and Tsukishima almost step back in surprise, “It’s selfish but I need to confirm if anything has happened immediately. Please understand.”

The pair look at each other with the same understanding expression, “Akaashi-senpai, it doesn’t look good for an upperclassman to be bowing to their underclassman,” Tsukishima teases. Akaashi straightens up, his eyes being enough to communicate his gratitude, “Alright. I’ll be the base. Shimizu-san if you could give him a boost onto my shoulders?”

“I should be able to manage that, yes.” Kiyoko nods. The three get into position, Tsukishima facing the wall with his hands pressed against it for support, Kiyoko slightly bent at the knees with her hands clasped in a basket shape and Akaashi preparing himself to make the trip over.

Akaashi takes a breath and as quick as he can, he steps his foot onto Kiyoko’s hand, and she pushes upwards to get Akaashi onto Tsukishima’s shoulders. Tsukishima wobbles a little with Akaashi’s weight now pressing down on him, but he manages to stay upright long enough for Akaashi to get a grip on the top of the wall.

Akaashi manages to haul himself up and straddle the wall, with some support from below and slowly lowers himself as gently as possible to the ground on the other side. He rushes to the gate, as do Kiyoko and Tsukishima, “Akaashi-kun, be careful. We’ll find another way in and meet with you as soon as possible.” Kiyoko says.

“I’ll find everyone quickly. I’ll see you soon.” Akaashi turns to run away but he gets yanked back by Tsukishima grabbing his arm.

“We mean it. Don’t rush in.” He reiterates.

Akaashi looks back and forth between the two and nods, “I won’t. I have a plan.”

___________

Terushima doubles over in his chair and lets out a shrill plea, “I can’t die like this, there’s still so much shit I wanna do!” He looks up at Osamu with begging eyes, “Come on, we won’t tell anyone! You just wanna destroy the school, right?! Then you don’t need to kill all of us!”

Osamu glances over towards Kuroo and Bokuto, “No, I definitely do. Like I said, I’m too far in to stop now, and not all of you would be able to keep quiet over this. Don’t worry though, you’re not the first one that’s up for club activities.”

“Us then?” Kuroo guesses.

“No. You two are gonna be left to the fire. I figure the slow death is the best punishment I can give you two after how much you interfered until this point.” Osamu walks past the two, his eyes landing on Tendou. Tendou’s breath hitches under Osamu’s lifeless gaze. His eyes are void of any hesitation or remorse for the actions he’s confessed to, eyes that have come to terms with what he’s going to do. Tendou screws his eyes shut when the grip around the knife’s handle tightens.

Then Osamu turns to Tendou’s right and points the knife to the boy in the desk, “Ushijima-senpai.”

Tendou’s eyes snap back open and he looks at his friend in horror. Ushijima has always been a man of few words, so he didn’t think much of it, even in a dire situation like this. However, looking at Ushijima’s expression, Tendou realises this isn’t a regular kind of silence for him. The dilated pupils, the unsteady breaths, the broken expression.

Ushijima’s been scared silent.

Tendou tries to pull himself towards Osamu in a protest, “Don’t you dare! It’s me you want to kill, isn’t it?! So, why don’t you just do it already?!” Osamu regards him with a glance and slight smirk.

“I figured you’d lose your cool. Glad to see I’m right.” Osamu taunts. He twirls the knife in his hand then plunges it into Ushijima’s thigh. Ushijima gasps, a crackling noise bubbles from his throat before he lets out a howl when the pain sets in. Tendou skips straight to screaming profanities at Osamu, trying to get him to stop with words ranging from pleads to threats.

Osamu leaves the knife in place and walks back towards the teacher’s desk. His hand hovers over the selection of weapons before settling on the smallest of the line-up. The potato peeler. Osamu looks over his shoulder at the confused but apprehensive expressions that are pointing towards him. “I just always wanted to see if this would work. You’re curious, aren’t you?” He asks, garnering no verbal response.

He walks over to Bokuto first and twists the chair around to make him face Ushijima, then casually proceeds to do the same with everybody else. Atsumu looks ready to protest but a brandish of the potato peeler and the morbid ideas of what Osamu is planning to do with it keeps him quiet. Eventually, everybody sits staring at the panting Ushijima as Osamu strolls back over to him.

Ushijima’s eyes flicker up to him, some small fire in them as if to defy Osamu’s attempts to scare him.

Osamu can deal with that.

He crouches down and begins to roll up the legs of Ushijima’s school trousers until they sit above his kneecaps. A few members of Osamu’s audience try to get him to reveal what he’s planning, but he keeps silent, his fingers buzzing with anticipation. He grips the potato peeler and presses it up against the skin of Ushijima’s leg. Tendou’s eyes fly open in horrific realisation and as he cries out to stop Osamu, the potato peeler drags down Ushijima’s leg, catching the skin and bringing a chunk with it.

The boys all cry out with disgust and distress, none louder than Ushijima whose bellows drown the room. Tears instantly stain the normally stoic boy’s face as Osamu removes the potato peeler away, leaving the strip of flesh to hang limply, the exposed wound now bleeding heavy trails down into his shoes and onto the floor.

Osamu sets the peeler into another section of Ushijima’s leg and begins the process over again, the skin slowly slicing off as Ushijima cries fill the room. Bokuto, Kita, and Terushima screw their eyes shut and refuse to watch just as Osamu flicks the peeler when it gets halfway down Ushijima’s leg, cutting off the peeled section. It flops onto the floor and Kuroo has to stop himself from vomiting then and there.

“Please, ‘Samu just stop!” Atsumu pleads. Osamu looks back at his brother with aggravation. Eyes telling him to shut up as he holds out the bloody peeler as an unspoken threat. Atsumu whimpers and puts his head down.

Tendou sobs and sobs, tears and snot decorate his face as he watches Ushijima’s spirit break before him. “Leave him alone…! Just fucking kill me already!” He demands.

“I’m all, all right, Satori…” Ushijima pants weakly, though his features betray his words. His eyes are red, plus his whole body is trembling from the waves of pain overtaking it. Tendou hates it. He can’t watch him like this anymore.

And when Tendou keeps his eyes closed to stop himself from having to watch, Osamu figures it out. “Okay. I’ll give you a choice, Tendou-senpai. I’ll keep up what I’m doin’ to Ushijima-senpai until you open your eyes. Of course, if you open them, I’m just gonna kill him.”

“What?!” Tendou exclaims, almost opening his eyes in the process, but he isn’t ready to test when exactly this sudden new rule gets put in place.

“You could hold out and hope somebody comes along, but it’ll probably just mean Ushijima-senpai dies in a much slower and a way more painful way. But the choice is yours.” Osamu says, and before Ushijima can try to argue back, Osamu cuts him off by digging the peeler into his other leg. Ushijima hisses, his voice disappears, being replaced by air being pushed out in a sort of wheezing noise.

Tendou squirms and jerks, trying to find a way to cover his ears as to avoid hearing the tormented Ushijima, the noise of the peeler slicing into Ushijima’s flesh and the drop of it as Osamu presumably cuts it off like he did with the second section. Then it starts all over again. And again. And again. And Tendou stops trying to keep track of how many times the pattern repeats itself.

“For fuck’s sake, Tendou just open your eyes!” Terushima yells desperately.

“Hey! Don’t you dare tell him to do that!” Kuroo barks.

“What are you expecting?! Nobody’s coming, do you want Ushijima to die slowly like this?!” He bites back.

“Terushima-kun, that’s enough!” Kita says.

“Satori…!” Ushijima calls out, his voice ringing out over everyone else’s. Even Osamu stops what he’s doing and looks at Ushijima in surprise. Osamu straightens his posture and watches with intrigue as Ushijima forces his voice to work, “Satori. I need you to know…whatever happens…I cannot hold it against-“

“I don’t want to hear you say that. It’s not fair to put that decision on me.” Tendou shakes his head, his bottom lip trembling.

“Miya Osamu is a man of his word. He has left the decision to you…” He exhales shakily and steels himself before continue, “However, you are not the one at fault. You never will be.” He says as steadily as he can. Kuroo watches the beads of sweat rolling down Ushijima’s face as a consequence of how hard he’s pushing himself. His eyes reveal his exhaustion, fully ready to drop off and pass out from the pain.

The blood has pooled around his chair. His legs are wrecked by the sections of exposed flesh. The ruined legs of a track star, Kuroo notes. Likely Osamu’s idea of a joke. The amount of blood that he’s losing, he can’t hold out much longer. But even Ushijima, direct as he is, can’t outright ask Tendou to let him die sooner.

A cross between a whimper and a whine sounds from Tendou and he chokes back the lump that sits heavily in his throat. His eyelids twitch, but they don’t open yet. Osamu even waits patiently for Tendou to finally respond, “I can’t do this without you. Losing Eita-kun-“ He struggles for a few seconds, “-That was so hard already.”

Ushijima’s face breaks into an unstable smile, “You’re strong no matter who you’re with.”

Tendou sniffles and shakes his head, “You’re the worst. You know that I care about you so much…” Tendou sobs.

“I love you too, Satori.”

Tendou forces himself to not react by crying further when Ushijima speaks those words with such unrelenting sincerity. Instead, he does his best to keep himself composed while he straightens his back. His features still tremble, but there’s no amount of deep breaths that would be able to cure that. Tendou, heart sitting heavy in his chest, slowly lets his eyes open and take in the sight of Ushijima’s weary expression, only brightened by the smile on his lips.

In one swift movement, Osamu stands up while, at the same time, grabbing the knife before sliding it briskly across Ushijima’s throat. Tendou cries while blood spays outward from the wound, all the boys yelling with him. The blood hits Osamu’s face and neck while he rises from the ground and he makes a disgruntled expression, spitting out a small bit of blood that makes its way into his mouth.

“Gross. That’s why I needed the mask,” He remarks. He looks at Tendou who’s now hunched over in his chair, blubbering, and pulling at the restraints on his arms and legs to desperately reach the now dead boy in front of him. Anything to escape this nightmare. Osamu tilts his head before grabbing Tendou’s hair once again and yanking it back, “See, that’s why you shouldn’t have tried to act so high-and-mighty.”

Tendou’s voice comes out broken and quiet, “Just kill me already…please.”

“Sorry, it’s not time for you yet,” Osamu replies, letting go of Tendou, leaving him to his tears and grief. He shakes the dripping blood from the two weapons in his hands and sets them back on the teacher’s desk. He picks up the cleaver and the butcher’s hook and hums with discontent, “I went pretty big already with Ushijima-senpai and now I feel like I need to go bigger.”

He pivots and uses the blunt curve of the hook to guide Atsumu’s head to look him in the eye, “Hey, ‘Tsumu. What should I do next? I’m really struggling here, so you’ll help me out, right?”

A large bead of sweat rolls down next to Atsumu’s petrified eyes, he tries to compel himself to look away, but the haunting intensity that radiates from Osamu’s unblinking gaze keeps him locked in. This isn’t the same Osamu he knows. “Like hell I’ll decide that for you!” Atsumu says defiantly, shaking his head away.

In a moment of instinct, Osamu stabs the hook into Atsumu’s shoulder, making the blond scream with a mix of shock and terror. “Who are you talking to like that? Don’t you know what kind of situation you’re in? I’m really trying to keep you alive for as long as possible, even though I wanna kill you the most. Do you realise how hard that is to do?”

Atsumu can’t find his composure, only able to cry and scream. Kuroo jerks himself forward, “Quit your shitty games you sick bastard!”

Osamu slams the cleaver into the desk Kuroo is sitting at and glares at him, “Don’t interrupt this,” He warms slowly. Kuroo bites back his tongue as Osamu returns his attention to his brother, “I could definitely use one of the methods I thought up to kill you on someone. You know what my favourite is?”

Atsumu shakes his head, “I don’t wanna know-“

“I take the knife and use it to carve out a line all the way down your back. Then, I use my hands and see how many times it would take me to rip out your spine. You see that sort of method in movies all the time, do you think it’s possible in real life?”

Atsumu’s face twists with horror as Osamu calmly speaks about the various murder methods he’s thought of, then Osamu snaps his fingers, “Ah. There’s a way to find out, I guess.” He stands up and suddenly lunges for Terushima, he grabs a fistful of his hair and starts dragging him to the front of the room.

Terushima almost immediately starts screaming and swearing; shrill, horrific wails come from the boy as his wrists are untied from the chair and retied to the teacher’s desk up front. Despite his attempt to fight off Osamu, he’s overpowered easily from his panic taking over and ends up in the undignified position of laying on his stomach across the teacher’s desk. Terushima pleads and twist and struggles, screaming for anyone to save him.

Kuroo’s hair stands on its ends listening to Terushima. Ushijima pained screams were bad enough, but Terushima hasn’t even been hurt yet. This is genuine unbridled terror, and it makes Kuroo want to cry with him.

“Stop squirming, it’ll just hurt more.” Osamu says, picking up the bloody kitchen knife and using his free hand to hold Terushima down. He goes against Osamu’s words and only struggles more, wailing more intensely when he feels the metal tip on his back as Osamu starts to cut away at Terushima’s school blazer.

“Please- please god I don’t wanna die- I don’t wanna- not like this- please, oh my god-“ He gasps and blubbers and the other boys feel themselves freeze up as they watch Osamu start to cut up Terushima’s school shirt as well.

Then, halfway down Terushima’s back, he stops. Osamu’s eyes shift towards the classroom door, and he puts the knife down. Terushima tries to ask everyone what’s happening, but nobody dares speak until Osamu makes a move. He rushes over to the door and sticks his head out of the classroom, and faintly Kuroo hears a voice.

”Bokuto-san…!” Echoes just audibly.

Bokuto’s eyes widen, “Akaashi?” He whispers. Osamu’s brow furrows before he marches over towards Kuroo. Kuroo flinches, ready to feel the impact of some kind of weapon or simply just Osamu’s fists, but Osamu simply takes the imbedded cleaver from Kuroo’s desk and grabs the Death Club President mask.

His eyes go to Bokuto, who only seems to challenge his gaze, “I have to go kill your boyfriend right now. I’ll be back soon.”

“Akaashi’s the one that got the one-up on you before.” Bokuto reminds him.

Osamu’s eyes narrow and he puts the Death Club President mask over his face and twirls the cleaver in his hands. “We’ll see if he gets lucky again.” Then storms out of the classroom.

____________

“Tsukishima-kun!” Kiyoko calls out. The pair has investigated most of the school wall’s perimeter by this point and were near giving up on getting inside with just the two of them, then Kiyoko’s luck manages to shine through in the end. Tsukishima joins her and she points at a spot in the wall, “Look at this. There’s an unfinished part of the wall here.” She pulls at the shrubbery and like she says, there are gaps in the bricks of the wall, just barely wide enough to be able to gain some footing.

“Good work, Shimizu-san,” Tsukishima stares at the gaps thoughtfully, “This must be how Miya Osamu got in and out of the school as the Death Club President. He couldn’t just exit into the street dressed like that so he must have come here since it’s isolated enough to change without the worry of being caught.”

“You may be right. We should hurry, Akaashi-kun might already be in danger.” Kiyoko says. Tsukishima climbs over first and Kiyoko follows him over right away. They land on the other side of the wall safely and try to get their bearings.

Tsukishima looks around, “This is around where the old storage shed used to be. The one that was used for gym equipment before the current one.” The one Yamamoto was murdered inside just over a week ago, he means.

Kiyoko takes in the building, her eyes widening when she spots the top floor, “There’s a light on up there,” She points upwards to said window where the faint glow is shining from, “That has to be where we need to go.” She says. Tsukishima nods and they make their way around the small shed and towards the front of the school. As they approach the entrance, Kiyoko pulls out her phone.

“We should call the police now. That way we’ll have enough time to trap Miya-kun before they get here. We can’t let him get away again.” Kiyoko says.

“We still haven’t confirmed if the killer is here yet. There’s the off-chance that the light is just something that they forgot to turn off before locking up the school. If you call the police and there’s no danger, it’ll raise a lot of questions and it’ll definitely get us in trouble.” Tsukishima argues.

Kiyoko’s brows knit together, “I know. However, this isn’t the time to hesitate. The killer must be here, I believe in Akaashi-kun’s deductions,” She brings the phone to her ear, “We’ll end this tonight.”

___________

Footsteps echo in the hallway. Osamu’s footsteps taking him to the source of the voice he heard from the classroom. The source being the biggest obstacle for his final plan. Akaashi fucking Keiji. And there he is, standing down the opposite end of the hallway wielding another broom as if that’s part of a ploy to piss Osamu off. It certainly stands a chance at working, much to Osamu’s chagrin.

Akaashi turns his nose up when the masked Osamu stands opposite him, “Is there any point in wearing that if you’re just going to try and kill me here and now, Miya-san?” He says venomously. Osamu slowly tilts his head to the side in amusement. If anyone was going to figure it out, he’s not surprised that it’s Akaashi. Nicely done.

Osamu removes the mask, not missing the increase in tension in the air. The narrower eyes that are now pointing at him, the tighter grip on the broom handle. “You shouldn’t have come here. There’s no reason for you to die.” He says casually.

“Whose blood is that then?” Akaashi asks warily. Ah, right. Osamu forgot about Ushijima’s blood. Those fiery eyes glaring at him aren’t strong enough to hide the apprehension towards the potential answer Osamu may say. So, Osamu just shrugs.

“It’s hard to remember. Not like you’ll get the chance to see for yourself anyway.” Osamu says, then he sprints towards Akaashi, swinging the cleaver horizontally aiming for his target’s neck. Akaashi blocks the cleaver with the broom, embedding the blade in the handle, before pushing back at Osamu, making him stumble backwards.

Akaashi retaliates with a swing of the broom, though Osamu reacts in time to jump backwards out of the broom’s reach. He goes in again to attack Akaashi, this time taking his swing downwards but the same happens and he only succeeds in striking the broom again. A little more frustrated, Osamu pushes forward before Akaashi can try to counterattack and shoves the boy with enough force to send him tumbling down onto his back, the broom clatters at his side.

Akaashi grunts when he hits the floor, when he refocuses himself, he acts quickly to avoid the next attempt to jam the cleaver into his face by rolling to the side. He kicks Osamu in the leg which causes the boy to fall onto his side. While Osamu groans a complaint out, Akaashi gets to his feet and begins to run away.

Osamu doesn’t waste any time with chasing after Akaashi down the length of the hallway and following him around the corner, only to be met with a cloud of white smoke. He coughs and stumbles, shielding his face as the smoke fills his nostrils and mouth. He’s able to open his eyes in time to watch something round and red fly towards him and smash into his face.

Akaashi holds the fire extinguisher threateningly and whacks Osamu again in the face, this time the boy goes down as the foam in the air clears. Akaashi keeps the extinguisher ready for another attack at any sign of more movement from Osamu, but the boy stays down on the floor, unmoving. After a few moments, Akaashi lets out a sigh of relief and cautiously lowers the extinguisher and drops it beside him.

Behind him, Akaashi has left the net used by the volleyball club. The only thing he could think of to use to tie Osamu up. Though now that he’s left alone with the unconscious killer, his mind thinks about everything Osamu has done up until now. All the victims of his spree, not just those who he killed, but those he hurt directly and indirectly. His eyes hover over the fire extinguisher, and the dark thoughts start to jog around in his mind.

As much as it wants to convince him that he’s allowed to take things into his own hands, he tears himself away from the idea and picks up the volleyball net. He turns back around and sees silver coming towards him. On instinct, he puts his arms up to defend himself and feels the metal of the cleaver insert into his upper arm.

Akaashi howls and drops the net, fully revealing Osamu and his fully pissed off expression, a fresh cut on his forehead trickling with blood. The specks of blood that decorated him before made Osamu look much more threatening, but the trail of blood makes him seem much more deranged.

He draws the cleaver back and swipes at Akaashi again, Akaashi pushes himself backwards, but it manages to graze his chest and makes Akaashi whine and trip over his feet. Osamu leers down at the boy on the floor and speaks slowly, “Always make sure they’re really down.”

“Fuck you.” Akaashi spits.

Osamu rolls his eyes, “You’re more original than that, but fine. If you want that to be the last thing you say, then I won’t protest. Can’t wait to see Bokuto’s face when I take your head for him to look at when I kill him.” He says.

Bokuto’s alive, Akaashi realises.

Osamu raises the blade but before he makes the decisive swing, an impact hits him in the side and knocks him away, the cleaver clanking to the floor. Akaashi’s eyes widen, “Shimizu-san!” He exclaims, getting to his knees.

Kiyoko, now wielding the broom that Akaashi discarded, keeps her eyes on Osamu as she speaks, “They’re being kept on the top floor, go on ahead!” Her hands tighten around the handle, “I can deal with this, so, please.”

Akaashi gets to his feet just as Osamu starts to get back up, “Shimizu-san, don’t do anything reckless.” Is all he says before disappearing around the corner. Kiyoko has to shake her head, laughing mentally at the hypocrisy of the statement she’s being left with.

Osamu glares at her, “You’re the girl that’s friends with Sugawara.”

Kiyoko’s heart starts to race. The cleaver is at her feet, so he’s unarmed. She has the upper-hand but if she doesn’t focus, she could lose it all. She takes a calming breath, “You killed my friends. You terrorised my school, and you’ve hurt so many others in the community. I won’t run away this time.”

Osamu readies himself, “I really hate your little group.”

“Good.” And she charges.

_________

Bokuto huffs and grunts as he struggles against his bindings. He’s been trying to break free since Osamu left to hunt down who everyone is presuming to be Akaashi, but he’s had no luck in either breaking or loosening the ropes around his wrists.

“Dude, you’re just gonna fuck up your arm even more if you keep going.” Kuroo says.

“Like I care about my arm right now!” Bokuto exclaims, “We need to get out of here while we have the chance, or he really is gonna kill us! Fuck, why are these knots so good?!”

“Samu and I were in boy-scouts when we were younger. He was always great at learning knots, so I always made him fix up our tents,” Atsumu says emptily, “How didn’t I realise? He was always right next to me, and I didn’t even think for a second…”

“What Osamu did has nothing to do with you, Atsumu-kun-“

“Don’t feed me bullshit, you all heard him. It’s because of me that he did all of this. Because I just left him behind,” Atsumu blinks away his tears, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Kuroo’s eyes turns sympathetic, if he could reach out to comfort him right now, he would. “Atsumu-“

The door slides open suddenly, and everybody jumps or yelps, “Jesus Christ…” Tsukishima whispers, eyes instantly settling on Ushijima’s corpse and Tendou who is staring hollowly at him, tears still quietly streaming down his face. He takes in the rest of the room, eyes landing on Kuroo, “It’s Osamu, isn’t it?”

“You figured it out?” Kuroo asks.

Tsukishima enters the room and closes the door behind him, “Akaashi-senpai did. He and Shimizu-san are distracting him right now, we all need to leave.” His eyes scan around before landing on the bloody knife. He can’t help grimacing, but he can see he has a severe lack of options at the moment. He picks up the blade and wipes away most of the blood on one discarded half of Terushima’s blazer before cutting away Terushima’s bindings.

The boy rolls off the table and ends up on the floor on all-fours, breathing heavy thankful breaths. “Fuck, thank you.”

Tsukishima doesn’t acknowledge Terushima and proceeds to cut the ropes restraining everybody else. When he finishes freeing everyone, Kuroo immediately pulls him into a hug, much to Tsukishima’s annoyance, “Thank you for coming.”

He pushes Kuroo away though not with any of the force Kuroo would have expected from him, “Save the thanks for when we get out of here. We need to leave immediately.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Terushima says, grabbing the butcher’s hook, “And there’s no way I’m going out there unarmed.”

Kuroo follows suit and takes the baseball bat, “You got that right. We’ll stick together and get out of the building.”

“Shimizu-san called the police, they should be here in twenty minutes at most. Until then, there’s a way over the wall by the old storage shed. We should make our way there.” Tsukishima informs them. The boys collectively nod, bar Tendou who has yet to move since being freed from the ropes. Tsukishima stares at the catatonic boy and nods for Kuroo to go on ahead, brandishing the kitchen knife in his hand as a means to reassure him.

Though hesitant, Kuroo nods back and stands at the door, tentatively then signals everyone to stop when he hears trudging footsteps approach. He opens the door further by just a fraction and Akaashi walks into view, holding onto his arm, his shirt covered with bloodstains. Alarmed, Kuroo throws the door open and rushes to him, the others following him.

Bokuto gasps and is by his side in seconds, “Akaashi, what happened?!” He tenderly holds Akaashi’s wounded arm. Akaashi hisses when Bokuto’s fingers graze over the gash on his chest.

“I faced off with Osamu-san, but he managed to get the upper-hand until Shimizu-san saved me.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, “Kiyoko-san’s fighting Osamu all alone?!” He looks over Akaashi’s injuries, “I know you couldn’t do much with those, but we gotta help her out,” Kuroo bites his lip and looks at all the concerned expressions surrounding him, “Bokuto, you get everybody out of here.”

“No way, if you’re going then I’m going as well.” Bokuto says.

“Tsukishima said the police will be here in twenty minutes at the most, you and Akaashi are already injured and everybody else shouldn’t have to get involved. Please, man, you gotta lead then out of here.”

Bokuto searches for any argument against Kuroo’s proposal, but nothing comes to him. He gives in and squeezes Kuroo’s arm, “Please be careful.”

“Always.” He promises before rushing ahead of the boys.

Akaashi looks at all those left and cocks an eyebrow, “Where is Tsukishima-san, I had assumed he was the one that freed you?”

Bokuto grimaces and glances back at the classroom, “Tsukishima’s got something he has to take care of first. He’s not unarmed, so I think he’ll be okay. Let’s all move out and wait for the police to arrive.”

Kita and Terushima don’t make any protests and follow Akaashi and Bokuto’s lead. Atsumu trudges behind the rest of the group, silent and with his head low.

__________

Tsukishima sits in the chair in front of the desk Tendou sits at, facing the boy who hasn’t broken his fixated gaze on the corpse in the room. Tsukishima’s not dumb, even if he needs the protection, he knows that the knife he’s holding is likely what was used to kill Ushijima, given the blood that coated the blade when he first picked it up.

“It’s dangerous here, Tendou-senpai. We can’t stay much longer.” He says quietly, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Tendou stiffens at the touch and inhales sharply, like Tsukishima’s touch burns him.

“I don’t have anything left worth living for,” Tendou says in an almost whisper, “I’m just gonna go back to being the creepy guy with no friends. So, what’s the point in trying to escape to somewhere that doesn’t want me?”

“That’s not true-“

“The reason I became a good artist is because I never spent any of my free time with other people. Because nobody wanted to be around me, and even when I made art, I just got told that my art reflected my personality, but not in a good way,” Tendou slowly turns his head to Tsukishima, his eyes are red, his face is a total mess and his eyes hold no emotions behind them other than despair, “When I got here, I finally made some friends. Eita-kun and Wakatoshi-kun. They were the only two that didn’t get deterred by me or my art…”

And now they’re both dead, Tsukishima empathises. “My only friend was killed as well, as you know. Then the only other person I really had a relationship with, albeit not an entirely positive one, was also killed. I think people are frustrating, and I don’t tend to get along with people because of it,” He thinks of all the times Hinata inserted himself into whatever he and Yamaguchi were doing. Even if he hates admitting it, Hinata was someone he could count on to be nearby.

“I felt alone after Yamaguchi died because he really was the only person I could call my friend, but for better or for worse, those people have found a way to keep me from being lonely.” Tsukishima admits.

“We’re not the same.” Tendou remarks.

“We’re not,” he agrees, “even so, if people are willing to put up with me, there are going to be plenty of people who’ll gravitate towards you. You’re the type of person to taunt a serial killer, after all. Whether it’s because of courage or stupidity, people can admire that kind of tenacity.”

Tendou shakes his head, “That ‘tenacity’ got Wakatoshi-kun killed.”

Tsukishima’s brow furrows, “No, Miya Osamu being insane got him killed. You have nothing to do with that. I wanted to blame myself after Hinata died because whilst everybody else was running around the All-Girls Academy trying to save each other, I stayed outside where it was safe because I was scared, but I wasn’t the one that killed Hinata. Miya Osamu did.”

Tendou looks at Tsukishima, uncertain. Tsukishima sighs, “I won’t act like I’m good at comforting people, nor am I gonna say I know that Ushijima-senpai would want you to be strong, because I never spoke to him even once. However, with a personality like yours, you’re not going to be alone. I can promise that much.”

Tendou’s eyes widen, for the first time since Tsukishima arrived, the slight glint appears in them if only for a split-second. Tendou’s eyes go back to staring at Ushijima for a few more precious moments. With his head tilted downwards, obscuring the sight of his neck, he could pass off for simply sleeping. It’s not a comfort, but it’s a better thought than the truth, Tendou thinks. He finally stands on shaky legs that threaten him with failed support, but he manages to stay up.

Tendou runs his hands through Ushijima’s hair and plants a kiss on the crown of his head, he whispers soft promises that are too low for Tsukishima to make out, but he guesses that it’s likely an oath that Tendou won’t give up without Ushijima around. Tendou steps back and forces himself to turn away, then he speaks to Tsukishima without looking at him, “You feel confident about using that knife?”

“Probably about as confident as you would.” Tsukishima says, standing up.

“You know that if you stick by me, it’s unlikely that you’ll ever get revenge for your friends. Are you sure you’ll be okay with not meeting him face-to-face?”

Tsukishima considers the question. He was too scared to chance going back into the All-Girls school the last time, but today he isn’t at all scared. Even so, “I would just get killed if I went to him directly. There’s no merit in that kind of fate. Plus, I trust the people I’ve met to be able to handle this. We should just try and stay alive for now.”

Tendou shrugs, and gestures towards the door, “Lead the way, Kei-kun.”

“Stay close, Tendou-senpai.”

___________

Miya Osamu hates brooms, it’s official. He managed to get his cleaver back, but no matter how many times he went in to strike, Kiyoko always manages to block him with the broom, and despite the amount of dents in the handle, the damn thing refuses to break. The girl wielding it was another problem in itself because no matter how long they fight, she never seems to slow down.

When the broom smashes into his side again, it tips him over the edge. He takes the risk of dropping the cleaver and takes hold of the broom. Kiyoko clicks her tongue and tries to wrestle the broom back with an unexpected amount of strength, Osamu notes. But that seriousness in her eyes just makes Osamu more pissed off.

He yanks the broom with all his might when he feels Kiyoko’s grip waver and manages to send her flying towards him. She falls onto the floor at his feet, and he holds the broom loftily above her. He takes the broom and snaps it in two over his knee, small splinters rain down into Kiyoko’s hair and Osamu throws one part of the broom to the side.

Kiyoko looks upwards in time to see the other half of the broom being readied for a downwards stab with the broken jagged end threatening to plunge into her. Hastily, her hands scramble for something to use and she grabs the cleaver Osamu abandoned a few moments ago. She throws her arm out and slices across the front of Osamu’s right leg.

Osamu screams and falls onto one knee, tenderly holding his wounded leg. Kiyoko uses the chance to create some distance between them. Osamu lets out a growl and rips off one of the sleeves of his hoodie and ties it around his wound. He stands up and Kiyoko stares at him defiantly, specs of Osamu’s blood sitting on her cheek.

“That’s for Suga-san and Daichi-san!” She yells.

When Osamu charges at her, Kiyoko attempts to swing the cleaver in a counterattack, but her movements with the new weapon are sloppy and hesitant. Osamu easily manages to stop the attempt by grabbing her by the wrist. At first, Kiyoko attempts to free herself from the vice-like grip he has on her, but no amount of struggling would be able to remove her wrist from him. Osamu squeezes hard and Kiyoko’s hand reacts by letting go of the cleaver.

Kiyoko tries to aim a kick between Osamu’s legs, but it misses its intended target and reaches his lower thigh, only staggering him momentarily. Osamu responds with an elbow to the face. A crack sounds and Kiyoko cries out, clutching her nose as blood begins to stream from it. Osamu then grabs her by the hair and throws her to the floor.

She groans, stomach filling with dread as she watches Osamu re-arm himself with the cleaver. He stalks towards her as she tries to scramble up again, only to get kicked to the floor before she can get to her feet. She stares up in horror, a devil’s smile that’s wide enough to send a chill down her spine is staring back.

Kiyoko raises her arms in defence when a voice echoes in the hallway, “Miya Osamu!”

Osamu halts, his eyes as wide as they can go. He can feel his muscles and eyebrow twitch in tandem with aggravation. His arm falls to his side, and he pivots to look at the owner of the voice, “How the fuck did you get out of those ropes?” He spits.

Kuroo grins haughtily and rests the baseball bat across his shoulders, “What’s wrong? You look a little tense all of a sudden. I feel like the big bad killer needs to look at his victims with more indifference, don’t you?” He taunts. Osamu’s face scrunches up into a sneer as he turns his full attention to Kuroo. Kiyoko looks at Kuroo and he signals to her to run, adding in a look that’s pleading for her to let him handle this by himself.

Though hesitant, she knows now isn’t the time to argue. Trusting Kuroo enough, she struggles to her feet and takes off down the opposite way, not wavering an inch of Osamu’s fixated attention. Kuroo’s expression turns serious, “It’s over for you now, Osamu. The police are on their way, you can’t get away this time.”

Osamu doesn’t react at first. He stays as still as a statue, not even blinking for what feels like eternity, enough time for Kuroo to start succumbing to his nerves. His palms are starting to feel slicked with sweat and his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth. He almost flinches when Osamu’s features finally drop back into neutrality, but he holds himself still. “I see…” Osamu says with an almost sigh in his voice, “if that’s how it is, then at the very least, I’ll just have to kill you before then.”

No sinks around this time, Kuroo thinks. “Good luck trying.”

_________

The front gates jangle and clang as Terushima violently shakes the bars, “Son of a bitch, just let me outta here already!” He complains, finally letting go of the gate and stepping back, “How are the cops supposed to get inside if we can’t even get out?!”

“Tsukishima-san and Shimizu-san got in somehow. Which means there’s a way to get out.” Akaashi says with absolute faith. His voice is a little tired, but he doesn’t feel faint which is something he can celebrate for now.

“Yeah, it would help if either of those two were actually here to help us out.” Terushima says.

“Akaashi and the others just saved your life, can’t you be a little more grateful?” Bokuto says.

“I’ll be grateful when the cops arrest that psycho,” Terushima replies tetchily. Bokuto tries to reprimand Terushima’s rudeness further but a call from the school grabs everyone’s attention. They look over and see the trio of Tsukishima, Kiyoko, and Tendou all exiting the school. Terushima’s eyes widen when his eyes land on Kiyoko, “But I can be happy with this sight right now.”

“Terushima.” Kita deadpans, but it makes Terushima shiver all the same.

“Thank goodness you’re all okay.” Kiyoko smiles, her voice sounding more nasally. She’s still covering her nose, but the blood has started to slow.

“We ran into each other on the way. Is Kuroo-senpai seriously fighting Osamu all by himself?” Tsukishima asks.

“Well, Atsumu-kun went with him.” Tendou corrects.

“No, he didn’t?” Bokuto cocks and eyebrow, “Atsumu’s right here-“ Bokuto turns to gesture to him, only to find that the boy in question is nowhere to be found, “-what the hell?! When did he disappear?!”

“None of you noticed someone leaving?!” Tsukishima snaps, feeling like this situation is somehow all too familiar.

“He must have went looking for his brother,” Kita theorises, “I don’t blame him. But his shoulder is injured. It’s hard not to worry about him.”

Tendou’s voice comes out lowly, “If Atsumu-kun wants to do something to help his conscience, we shouldn’t get in his way. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t be able to live with himself. For someone like him…that’s probably worse than dying.”

Nobody argues. “It’s too dangerous for us to go in as well…we’ll show you where we got in from and we can show the police the way in once they get here. Kita-senpai, Terushima-senpai, you two will need to help Bokuto-senpai and Akaashi-senpai due to their injuries. We’ll be doing some climbing.” Tsukishima informs them.

“Understood.” Kita says.

“Fine.” Terushima relents, as if saying ‘what a hassle’. Tsukishima steals a glance at the school as he guides the group to the spot he and Kiyoko found and hopes for Kuroo to hold out.

_________

Kuroo Tetsurou can check off ‘flying through a sliding door’ off his bucket list because he’s now on his back, with the latticework and paper of the classroom’s sliding door littering the floor around him after a particular well-aimed kick to the stomach from Osamu.

This is the worst time to regret not taking Bokuto up on his offers to work out together.

Kuroo groans and rolls onto his side, splinters pricking his skin as he pushes himself up from the floor whilst Osamu steps casually through the broken door, taking in the room they’ve ended up in. “How fitting, considering everything.” He says with vague amusement.

When the fogginess of his brain clears, Kuroo catches on to what Osamu refers to when he realises, he’s been kicked directly into the science lab used for his club activities. How annoyingly poetic, Kuroo thinks. Using the baseball bat to support himself, Kuroo gets to his feet and tries to keep looking threatening, despite the confident look in Osamu’s eyes. “I’m still not gonna let you get away.”

Osamu rolls his eyes, “You’ve got better things t’ worry about.” He lunges at Kuroo with the cleaver in hand, but it scrapes against the metal of the baseball bat. Kuroo stumbles back into the desk, making the bottles on the table rattle from the impact. The cleaver slides down the length of the bat and when it falls away, it cuts the top of Kuroo’s knuckles.

Kuroo cries and stumbles to the side, the floor stains with his falling blood. With his guard down, Osamu tries to go in again, grabbing Kuroo by the neck and holding the cleaver high. Thinking quick, Kuroo grabs a nearby conical flask and smashes it against Osamu’s head. Osamu holds his face where the glass has cut and loses his grip on Kuroo’s neck whilst he shakes the glass shards out from his hair. A quick jab to the stomach from the end of the bat knocks the air from Osamu’s lungs and makes him stagger back further.

Before there’s a chance for any follow-up attacks, Osamu still bent at the waist, pushes himself forward and manages to slash the cleaver across Kuroo’s upper thigh. He yowls and falls to one knee whilst Osamu tries to bring the cleaver down on the top of Kuroo’s head. Kuroo puts the bat up again but misses the cleaver and blocks Osamu at the wrists. Kuroo bends backwards as Osamu pushes down on the baseball bat, the strength in Kuroo’s arms wavering, letting the blade inch closer and closer to his face.

His arms are on fire, begging to be allowed to rest, but his brain is in overdrive watching Osamu’s sadistic grin split his face, clearly feeling euphoric watching the colour slowly drain from Kuroo’s face as the blade starts to press in at his cheek. Kuroo grits his teeth as his flesh around the blade starts to burn. In a last-ditch effort, Kuroo throws as much strength as he can afford to expend into throwing Osamu’s arms to the side.

The motion makes the cleaver cut deep into Kuroo’s face, nicking his ear in the process. Even with his head spinning, he forces his mind to focus. Just as Osamu recovers from suddenly being pushed away, Kuroo swings the baseball bat straight into the side of Osamu’s face.

Osamu lurches back and crashes into the experiment table, sending some beakers to the ground. Kuroo feels his hands tingle with energy. He readies the bat and when Osamu, bloody mouthed, and eyes red-hot with rage, Kuroo just lets his own blood-stained grin shine, “Club activities are suspended.” And with another swing, Kuroo smashes the bat right into Osamu’s temple and the boy hits the floor.

For the first time, Kuroo allows himself to properly breathe. His lungs ache in his chest, heavy from the exertion he’s put himself through, he has to hold onto the table to stop himself from collapsing then and there. Osamu is down on the ground, panting heavily, spitting blood and a tooth or two onto the floor beneath him. He’s clearly exhausted, given in. The cleaver is sitting too far from him to grab before Kuroo, and he knows it.

Even still, the fury of his heart refuses to silence, “You- don’t get to- win-!” Osamu growls. Kuroo opens his mouth but is interrupted by Osamu laughing. No, not laughing; giggling. An intimate giggle like Osamu told a joke only he gets to understand. He pushes himself to slump against the leg of the table, “Right- you don’t get to- to win…I win.” He laughs. Harder.

Kuroo’s brow furrows, “It’s over.”

“For me, yes! But it’s never gonna be over- not for you. No matter- what happens…you’re always- always gonna be haunted- by me. After all. I killed your boyfriend and gave you his head in a box!” He covers his face with his hand and his laughs turn to manic cackles. The pleasure in Osamu’s expression sets Kuroo’s teeth on edge, “I even- I even fed parts of him to you!”

Kuroo’s heart stops for a second. “What?”

Osamu stops laughing, and a haughty demeanour washes over his body as he lets out a low ‘oh’. “I didn’t say before…? You know those meat buns you had? The ones I laced…? Yeah, well I was running low on meat to use for them, so I snuck back to my apartment last night and just got some more before school. It always pays to own your own meat grinder.” He explains calmly. Slowly. Making sure each word is enunciated perfectly so that Kuroo understands what he’s saying.

“The meat was…” Kuroo’s stomach turns.

“Oh yeah. Look on the bright side…I really brought you and Kozume-kun as close as possible.” Osamu says, tilting his head ever so slightly as he speaks.

Kuroo doesn’t register anything else. His ears are ringing, his stomach muscles are contracting, and his vision is becoming spotty. His legs feel unstable, and his arms don’t even feel like they’re attached to his body anymore. Only one last sentence is he able to process, “You’ll always remember me, Kuroo-senpai.”

The bat hits Osamu so quickly, it surprises both of them. Osamu howls and holds his jaw where he heard it crack on impact, blood oozing from his lip. Kuroo’s malignant eyes bore into Osamu’s weak body. He feels charged up with electricity, his heart is threatening to beat out of his ribcage. His mind is screaming hellish words and instructions, telling Kuroo over and over again.

Give him what he’s earned.

Kuroo’s hands move on their own and he picks up the cleaver on the floor. Osamu can only grin with underlying triumph as Kuroo holds the cleaver to his neck, “You killed so many people. You killed your friends, you killed people who had nothing to do with your goals, and you killed the most important person in my life.”

“And now…you’ll kill me?” Osamu guesses.

Kuroo nods slowly, eyes unblinking. Osamu’s body vibrates with anticipation, daring him to do it. Something that Kuroo needs no further encouragement for. His arm winds back and before it can release and finish the job, a set of hands wrap around Kuroo’s grip.

The tears stream like waterfalls on Atsumu’s face, he can barely keep himself from blubbering and spluttering as he tries to speak, holding the focus of Kuroo’s shocked eyes until he finally manages to speak, “Pl-please, don’t. I just want it to end-“ he speaks in sobs.

Kuroo speaks calmly. Almost eerily, “You saw first-hand what he did to Ushijima. You know how many other people he killed. Don’t stop me here, Atsumu-“

“He’s still my brother!” Atsumu cuts in, surprising both of the other boys.

Though once the surprise passes, Kuroo sneers at him, “He’s a fucking psychopath.”

“No,” Osamu says in a bored tone, “I’m not a psychopath- or a sociopath. I’m just a killer. You don’t have to suffer from anything to be a killer, sometimes you just…are.” He ends with a shrug. Atsumu stares at Osamu with bewilderment. The absolute nonchalant, indifferent tone of voice is nothing out of character, but it still feels wrong to hear him like this. In the distance, the three hear the approaching sirens. Osamu exhales a defeatist breath and quietly accepts his fate.

There’s only so much time left.

Atsumu brushes his tears away and pulls himself together as best as he can, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you. I want to say somethin’ good. Somethin’ like…you’re still my brother, or that I can’t hate you…but I can’t say it and mean it, I mean…” His words shake as he says them, refusing to settle, “…you killed our friends, for fuck’s sake. Noya, and Futakuchi- fuck you did that to Kozu-kun…”

Kuroo’s head hangs when Atsumu’s voice cracks, “How the fuck do people have the balls to say that shit, huh?! How am I supposed to look you in the eye anymore?! You stood there; you spoke to me on the phone at night probably right after you killed someone! And- and I can’t make sense of it, no matter how much I think about your explanation! Nobody deserved to die for this, Osamu!

“And even after it all! Even after everything, I couldn’t let you get killed, because you’re you and seeing you dead would be worse than dying myself! But you ruined everything! You ruined us!” The three all sit silent, basking in the hate-fuelled words that just poured from Atsumu’s broken, aching heart.

“So, I’m ‘Osamu’ now.” Osamu nods solemnly.

Atsumu massages the back of his neck to alleviate the cramp in it from how tense his body has turned. “This is what I mean. You don’t even regret it, do you?”

“Regret? No. It would be an insult if I regretted anything I did, so I won’t. But…there’s definitely stuff I would change,” Osamu looks at Kuroo blankly then shrugs, “But I don’t think even ‘Tsumu could hold you back if I said that out loud, so I best not.”

Kuroo nods, “Best not.”

_________

The police arrive and then the next part is a blur in terms of Kuroo’s perspective. For Atsumu, the next part is like a slow insertion of a blade into his heart. He watches the police arrive on the scene, immediately handcuffing Osamu and dragging him away. Some medics escort himself and Kuroo out of the school building, back into the real world where a crowd has already gathered and been barricaded back by the officers on site.

How does word travel so fast? He wonders. He can almost visualise the conversations in the air above their babbling.

’That’s Miya Osamu in handcuffs, right’

’Look at the state of him! Was he that awful killer from the news’

’Imagine what the parents must be like if their child is like that’

’Do you think the twin is involved too?

’I bet he had a hand in it’

Atsumu wants to cover his hears and curl up in a dark corner away from the rest of the world. The damaging words attacking his psyche. Why are they all staring at him? Are they looking at him? Why aren’t they looking at him? Isn’t it worse to not look at the twin of the killer? What are they saying about him right now? Why are they still always looking at him like he’s the killer-

“Atsumu,” He near leaps into the air when Kuroo says his name. He had completely forgotten that the boy was even next to him. There’s a remorseful look in his eyes that doesn’t feel right. Atsumu doesn’t want him to look at him like that, “I’m sorry about before.”

Atsumu blinks, confusion overtaking his expression. He tilts his head to the side and Kuroo has to stop himself from reacting negatively to the movement. “About the meeting earlier today. I was pissed off and in my own head, and…I thought you were the killer even though I never had a real reason to.

“When you and…and Kenma started to hang out, I got really suspicious of you. I thought it was weird that someone like you was suddenly trying to get close to him. Kenma’s always been the type to keep people at arm’s length until he can really get a feel for them, but…somehow you managed to get through to him quickly.”

“I did?”

Kuroo nods, “You really think Kenma would’ve kept your number unless he wanted to? He’s not above blocking people. He was always the no-nonsense type when it came to things that annoyed him.”

Atsumu scuffs the dirt with his shoe, “It’s because of me that Kozu-kun even got close to Osamu.”

Kuroo slaps Atsumu’s uninjured shoulder, “The hell’re you talking about? Didn’t you hear him earlier? He wanted to keep Kenma alive because he met him,” Kuroo’s voice begins to trail off, his eyes lowering to the ground, “I’m the one that messed it up.”

Atsumu chews his bottom lip, “I don’t even know if it’s my place to speak like I knew him well. When you think about it, we didn’t even properly know each other for a week. But…whenever he and I hung out, he was pretty much only ever talking about you, or Bokuto, or Akaashi. But mostly you. I don’t even think he realises it because it was always said so casually. Honestly, I was super jealous of you two. I don’t think Kozu-kun could have been more obviously in love. Kinda wished someone talked about me like that.”

Kuroo chokes back his emotions while listening and clears his throat. “Thank you, Atsumu.”

“No problem.”

He turns to walk away, stops then looks back at Atsumu, his mouth pulled into a mischievous smirk, “Although, you’re spoken about pretty highly by someone in my club. I’ve never seen that sourpuss speak of anyone so positively. Maybe look into that.”

Atsumu’s face flushes. Did he mean- “Kuroo-senpai!” Kuroo turns to face Atsumu properly. The boy bows slightly, “Thank you.”

Kuroo smiles bittersweetly and starts to walk off, just audibly saying, “No problem.” As he does.

__________

Tsukishima takes a seat next to Kiyoko in the ambulance she’s occupying. “How’s your nose?”

“They think there’s some damage to the nasal septal cartilage but nothing that can’t be fixed,” She nudges Tsukishima’s shoulder, “How are you feeling? Now that Osamu-kun has been caught, I mean.”

He considers the question, thinks of his feelings that are sitting, jumbled in his chest until he can make sense of one thing, “Content,” He decides. And he means it, “I thought all I wanted was nothing more than the killer’s head on a stick, but I never came face-to-face with him and frankly, I’m okay with that. I don’t ever want to see him face-to-face. Besides, there’s people who I’ve met that made me realise that revenge isn’t always just the ‘eye for an eye’ rule,” He looks at the ambulance Tendou is sitting in, a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders, “I think my revenge is gonna be trying to do what I can to never forget, but never let him have a hold on me. Or anyone he hurt.”

Kiyoko smiles, “The cycle of support is a beautiful thing. I’m proud of you, Tsukishima-kun.”

He huffs and looks away, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Of course not.” Kiyoko agrees. Her eyes scan the crowd, and she catches sight of the police allowing her mother underneath the police tape, “Would you give me a second?”

Tsukishima nods and takes his cue to leave just as Mrs Shimizu runs over to her daughter, wrapping her in a tight embrace, “Oh, my baby! Oh, thank goodness!” She pulls away and past the tears in her eyes, there’s underlying anger that only exists passively with the relief. “What were you thinking doing something so dangerous?! Never do anything like that again!”

Kiyoko pulls her mother down to sit with her, “I won’t. I promise.”

“Oh, look at your nose too…” Mrs Shimizu coos.

Kiyoko stares into the pained expression of her mother and it dawns on her just how much she must have been suffering watching Kiyoko these past days. Watching Kiyoko’s mental descent. Her only child losing herself to grief and mourning the loss of her innocence at such a young age. Kiyoko takes her mother’s hands and gives them a comforting squeeze before quietly speaking, “I…I think I want help.”

Mrs Shimizu’s eyes widen, her expression turning from blue to brighter hues of hope. Hope that Kiyoko wants to shower in, hearing Tsukishima’s words ring in her heart. Revenge against Osamu isn’t just about ‘an eye for an eye’. “Will you…call that person you told me about?”

__________

Akaashi rests his head on Bokuto’s shoulder. The bandages are wound annoyingly tight around his arm, but he knows that they have to be. He’s at least been granted the request of sticking around for a few minutes before going to the hospital so that he can check on his friends when they’ve all been attended to.

He wished Terushima luck when he was taken aside to give statements alongside Kita. He only caught a glimpse of the classroom, and he’s heard Bokuto’s account, but he can’t imagine witnessing Ushijima’s death as it happened. Will Bokuto, or anyone for that matter, even be able to handle living with those images burned into their retinas? What if they never sleep properly again because Akaashi didn’t make it in time to save Ushijima?

Bokuto knocks his head gently against Akaashi’s to grab his attention. He looks up at Bokuto’s concerned eyes, “You’re doing your thing again. That thing when you overanalyse something. You always think yourself into circles.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do,” He insists, “It’s okay though. It’s over now. The killer’s been captured.”

Akaashi shakes his head, “It’s not over. Sure, the crimes are done, but the aftermath is only beginning. They never show you the epilogue of these kinds of things. All the trauma the survivors have to sit and deal with for the rest of their lives. I’m worried that…things might get worse for some of us further down the line.”

“It’ll be fine!” Bokuto says quickly. Akaashi stares at him with wonder. Seriously, how can he say something like that so easily? “It’ll be fine because we all have each other! No matter what happens, we’ll have each other’s backs until we’re all able to handle what we’ve been through. Even if that takes longer for some. And…no matter what, even if you doubt others, don’t doubt that I’ll be there for you.”

Akaashi smiles sweetly, “I love you.”

Bokuto rests their foreheads against each other, “I love you too.” They share a short giggle and interlock their fingers together. Firm. Refusing to separate.

___________

The medic finishes off tending to Kuroo’s wounds. Somehow, he managed to succeed in not sustaining any major injuries once again despite the fact that he got thrown around like a ragdoll for a bit during the fight. God knows whose cruel idea of a joke it is for him to feel so in pain and not actually have anything seriously wrong. A stitch for his leg at most, but otherwise fine.

When the medic walks away, Bokuto, Akaashi, Kiyoko, and Tsukishima all gather around him. “You look like hell.” Tsukishima says. Not meanly, Kuroo realises. Just a pointed observation, which is just how Tsukishima shows his concern. He thinks.

“I just got back,” Kuroo grins. Kiyoko slumps next to him in the ambulance and Akaashi takes the other side, “Thank you for coming, everyone. You guys saved us.”

“It was Akaashi-kun that did all the work.” Kiyoko admits.

“You saved me, and then Tsukishima-san rescued everybody. This was a team effort.” Akaashi corrects.

“A team…don’t need a team anymore,” Kuroo says, as if just realising this fact. As if the question of what’ll happen to them after everything was wrapped up hadn’t crossed his mind multiple times at night, “Can we just agree that the only one qualified to be a detective in the future is Akaashi?”

Akaashi stares lamely at the others as they mutter their agreements, “I think I’ve done enough detective work to satisfy myself for the rest of my life, thank you very much. I never want to do this again.” Akaashi says.

“Yes. I think we can all hang up our detective badges.” Kuroo agrees.

Tsukishima palms his wrists nervously, keeping his expression still to not give away his feelings. Then he speaks at a speed almost too quick to discern, “Thank you for helping me.”

“Huh?” “What?” The others say variably.

Tsukishima’s brow furrows as he tries to put his thoughts into words, “It was me that approached Kuroo-senpai with this in the first place. He then gathered the rest of you to help me. Thank you for helping me catch Yamaguchi’s killer. I hope that…we can try being acquaintances after this.”

“Try not to clench your teeth when you say that.” Kuroo says flatly.

“Tsukishima!” Bokuto exclaims, suddenly tossing an arm around his shoulders, “Next time you should just come on out and say ‘friends’!”

Tsukishima clicks his tongue, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. The only ones on the track to being my friends are Shimizu-san and Akaashi-senpai. You two are still unfathomably aggravating.” He shrugs Bokuto’s arm off of him.

“Awww~ We love you too~” Kuroo says. Tsukishima just rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the crowd of reporters that have started to gather. The ones being pushed back by the authorities as they try to get the best shot of the school and of the survivors. Kuroo follows his eyes and lets out a low ‘hmph’, “Vultures.”

“Indeed,” Akaashi agrees, then notices the old man speaking to some reporters and glowers, “Though apparently, there’s always going to be someone ready to feed said vultures.”

The group move within an earshot to hear Principle Kasai addressing the press. Saying how that the school is now once again safe for its students. How he knew his students would always prevail in the face of adversity, as if over a dozen of his students didn’t just get slaughtered in the span of a week. No note of the victims themselves, the group all observe.

“Mr Kasai, what about the student that perpetrated the crimes?! Any comments?!” A reporter shouts from the back.

Principle Kasai’s face sours at the question, and he clears the back of his throat obnoxiously before answering, “That child was nothing more than trouble. A jealous vindictive serial killer that killed for pleasure. The school completely disregards them. Someone should look into the family life and see just how such an evil creature came to be.”

Kuroo’s fists clench at his side. Bokuto tries to say something to him, but the words don’t register. Kuroo can only think about the gall the principle has to speak so freely about a situation he wanted no part in helping with. He wants to say something. He feels ready to barge into the middle of the interview until-

“Are you not ashamed of yourself, principle?” Kita asks from behind Kasai. The principle and the reporters all turn to the boy. An incredulous, offended expression is plastered on the principle’s face as he struggles to think of something to say at the suddenness of the question.

“What is your name?!” A reporter asks.

Kita blinks and shifts his attention to the cameras and reporters, “My name is Kita Shinsuke. I am the current student council president of Tokyo’s All-Boys Academy.”

“What did you mean when you asked if the principle was ashamed?” One woman asks.

“He is-“

“Principle Kasai should be ashamed for farming an environment that created a serial killer.” Kita says bluntly. The cold statement stuns the crowd momentarily before slews of questions start to fill the air.

“Holy shit.” Bokuto whispers.

Kuroo grins with amusement, “Now that’s why we elected him.”

Despite Kasai trying to regain control of the situation, Kita manages to get in front of the reporters and microphones, Kasai becoming an afterthought to the reporters in the process. “I have attended this school for two and a half years. I have helped in all different types of events across the school and seen everything this school has to offer. With all that knowledge, I can safely say…the fact that a student became like this, is definitely a product of the environment this school has adopted.

“It is built on the system that elevates those who do well in clubs or are the strongest academic students, whilst using the other leftover students as collateral. This is an undeniable fact that I learned from my time as a student. However, when I was given the chance of being the student council president, I believed it was a chance to change the system. Create a better environment that let all the students live up to their full potential.

“I then realised that the reason this system has been in place for so long is because the principle is the one that makes sure it stays in place. He places so much pressure and praise on our club presidents and top students and for the recommendations they garner that it results in the development of students with inferiority complexes and superiority complexes.”

Kita, ever calm and collected, turns to the principle who is staring daggers at him and simply smiles, “You and your school are a disgrace. This school is a danger to the future of children. I hope you understand that your methods are the source of the problem, and you learn to repent.” His smile slips away, and he turns back to the cameras, and he bows to the crowd before leaving without another word. The crowd begs with their follow-ups to follow-up questions, but Kita has no more interest in speaking to them.

Instead, he walks over to the group that can’t help but gaze at him in awe, “Kita, do you even realise what you just did?”

Kita smiles and crosses his arms proudly, “Kuroo-kun, I only do what is necessary. The world deserves to know why this tragedy really happened. That’s all the reason I needed. What happens afterwards will simply be a biproduct of what is meant to happen. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sure Shimizu-san shares my sentiment.”

Kiyoko smiles gently, “Naturally. It would be a shame for the school if their sister school had a similar story to tell.”

“Then we shall see if that’s the case,” Kita says simply, “Please, all of you get home safe.” He regards them all before leaving in a way that’s uniquely Kita. Polite. To the point. Nothing left needed to be said.

Kuroo’s stares up at the school building, “What do you think’ll happen now? Place your bets.”

“Like Kita-san said, only time shall tell. Even this school would have a hard time bouncing back from such a scathing speech.” Akaashi says.

“Do you think we’ll even make it to graduation?” Bokuto asks.

“It would be troublesome to have to transfer halfway through our final year, so at the very least, I hope we can still graduate.” Kiyoko says.

Tsukishima shrugs, “Transferring away from this school will be a hassle now, no matter what year you’re transferring from. There’s no way I’m graduating from here. What a pain.”

Kuroo hums indifferently. “Everyone,” He pivots and faces the others, smiling a smile that’s void of any his usual mischievousness, “Thank you, again. For everything.” Everyone’s expressions melt into smiles, even Tsukishima finally caves and lets himself breathe. Bokuto cheers for a group hug and pulls Kuroo and Akaashi forward. Akaashi in turn brings Kiyoko in, and Kiyoko drags the reluctant Tsukishima in as well.

There, even among the crowds, they don’t hear anything else. Because nothing else matters in this moment. The only thing they care about is this here and now. When the clouds have cleared, and their senses relax for the first time. Even if the healing has barely started, the storm is beginning to pass. Sunlight will find its way back.

_________

The months pass at different speeds, but the roads lead to March all the same. Kuroo pours the water over the gravestone marked ‘Kozume Kenma’ and claps his hands together in prayer. The cemetery is near-deserted at this time. He sees the odd person there to pay their respects, but nobody Kuroo recognises.

He’s done well to keep the grave clean. When the leaves were falling, he cleared them away. When the snow piled up, he brushed and brushed and brushed until it was gone. Now, with spring approaching, he worries about who’ll be around to look after the gravestone. He knows Mrs Kozume visits nearly every other day, but who’ll visit on the days she doesn’t? He doesn’t want it to solely become her responsibility.

Kuroo looks left and right to see if anyone is within an earshot, then lowly he begins to speak, “I graduated today, Kenma. Can you believe it?” The gravestone doesn’t respond. It never does, so Kuroo continues, “Bokuto was a total wreck the whole day. You should’ve seen him during the ceremony, I don’t think I’ve seen that much snot on someone’s face.” He chuckles.

“I think Akaashi’s sadder than he’s letting on. He’s still putting on a brave face for Bokuto, but I think he’ll crack when he helps Bokuto pack up. He’s going to Kyoto-U, I can’t remember if I told you already. It’ll suck going to Kyushu-U without him. Without anybody- well, no. Ojiro from my class is going as well. I think me and him might end up as roommates while we’re studying.” He pauses, “He and I got to be pretty close since I’ve been hanging out with Kita a bit more. Ojiro is so head-over-heels in love with him, it’s kind of hard to watch.”

The gravestone sits quietly.

“Akaashi’s doing well, as you’d probably expect. He got in the top 10 in the whole school for the final exams this year. The guy is too damn smart for his own good, I swear,” He pauses again, feeling the coming winds of spring brush his face. Just a single moment of tranquillity, then he speaks in whispers, “I’m scared, Kenma. I don’t want to leave. Fukuoka is so far from here. I hate the idea that I won’t be able to make sure you’re being taken care of, but…” He chuckles. Bitter and curtly, “…you’d probably slap me and tell me to ‘grow up’ or something. I’ll definitely visit during the holidays when I come home. I’m sure my dad will visit occasionally too but try not to get bored if he starts telling his stories.”

He taps his forearm, pushing his tongue into the pocket of his cheek. This isn’t why he came here today, but he can’t bring himself to say it. No matter how much he wants to, he knows he can’t yet. He mentally says farewell and turns to leave only to back up when Atsumu comes into view. He’s got a thick red hoodie on that have his hands shoved deep inside the pockets. Shit. Did he hear all of that?

“You looked busy, so I stayed back until you were done.” Atsumu murmurs. The two had barely spoken the past six months, though Atsumu didn’t go to school a lot at the start of said period of time, too ashamed of his own brother’s actions to face the student body.

“I didn’t think you would be the type to come visit graves.” Kuroo says, beckoning him over. Atsumu joins him and stares down at the inscription of Kenma’s name.

“I’ve always been too nervous to do this. But I wanted to visit them all. The victims, I mean. Offer my prayers for their souls ‘n stuff. I thought today would be the easiest opportunity because I figured you would be here. Considerin’ the day an’ all. Congrats on graduatin’.” Atsumu says.

Kuroo thanks him, “What are you planning on doing? Now that the announcement’s been made, a lot of people are jumping ship ahead of time.”

The week before the graduation ceremony, it had been announced that Tokyo’s All-Boys Academy would be closing its doors once the three present years had all graduated. No more classes would be taken in. The steady decline of their reputation led to a decrease of funding, but they still left students the option to finish their studies with them. Kuroo could only rejoice at the thought of the look on Principle Kasai’s face.

“I’m stayin’ to finish there. I know a lot of people would call me crazy for it, and maybe I am. But I think moving to a different school after what happened would be social suicide. Everybody at our school knows me past what he did. Other schools won’t. Life hasn’t been easy, but it’s easier than going somewhere else.” Atsumu explains.

“Good on you for deciding that for yourself, kid. I’m sure you’ll do great things.” Kuroo says, accompanying his words with a pat on his back.

Atsumu smiles crookedly, “You too. I heard from Omi-kun. Kyudai is a great university, but I was surprised considering how far it is. Tokyo-U would be a good pick, right? And it’s much closer.”

Kuroo glances at the gravestone then back to Atsumu, “I think I need to get out of Tokyo. For myself. There’s a lot here for me, but there’s a lot of bad stuff as well. I’m not running away, I just…need to be somewhere that doesn’t always remind me of the bad shit I’ve been through.” Kiyoko is the same as him, moving to Kyushu to study.

“I can respect that. Man, university life sounds so good. Y’seem like the type that’ll be partyin’ every weekend.”

“What can I say? I’m the light of people’s lives,” Kuroo grins, “I think…it’ll also let me keep on living. These past six months have been hard, and I think I need to learn to not let the idea of worst-case scenarios stop me from moving forward,” He pauses, “Do you believe in soulmates?”

Atsumu cocks an eyebrow, “Soulmates? That’s pretty sudden. I guess I could? I think the sentiment is nice.”

“I always hated the idea of it. The idea that there’s just one perfect person out there for you that fate decided on. It sounds nice in theory, but what about situations where one soulmate dies young and the other still has a whole life left to live without them? Their one perfect match is gone,” Kuroo swallows the lump that’s starting to form in his throat, trying to calm his pulsing neck muscles, “And if…if Kenma was supposed to be my soulmate, how the fuck do I even learn to move on from that?”

Shit, he thought he could talk about this now. He was able to talk about it with the guy Kiyoko suggested he talked to, but here, in front of Kenma, it all feels so much heavier on his heart. “If Kenma was perfect for me, how the fuck am I supposed to believe that I’m gonna fall in love with someone the way I fell in love with him?” Shit, he can’t even stop himself letting out muted sobs here in the sombre cemetery in front of someone he barely knows and in front of the grave of his boyfriend.

Atsumu struggles to find the words to start, ‘ah’s and ‘um’s escaping his lips before he calms down and lets himself go, “I didn’t get the chance to know Kozu-kun as well as you, or anyone else did. But…I don’t think he’d want you to stop lettin’ yourself fall in love ‘cuz of him, y’know? You’re not betraying him by letting yourself feel shit. If anythin’, you’re honourin’ him and the time you got to have with him…or…somethin’. I dunno if that made sense, I was never the best at this shit so you can ignore me if you want-“

“No, no.” Kuroo insists between sniffles, “You’re right. You’re right. I just…I want to learn to let myself open up to that again, but I think I’m still a long way away from that. But I’ll keep working towards it, so that Kenma doesn’t have to worry about watching over me.”

Atsumu nods, “Yeah, Kozu-kun would totally kick your ass if you started wallowing in self-hatred for the rest of your life.”

“Absolutely.” He concedes.

Atsumu and Kuroo stand together in peaceful silence, saying their own wishes to themselves in their heads, telling the gravestone in front of them about their hopes for the future. About what they’ll do so that tragedy doesn’t consume them. They chat to each other whenever they have something to say, but never ever force themselves to speak out loud.

With a check of the watch, Atsumu says he has to leave and lets Kuroo stay behind in front of the grave. Even though Kuroo knows he has to leave as well, his heart is still attached with strings to the name in front of him. Just a simple name is enough to make him stay, even for eternity if the choice were there.

But that’s not what the name would want for him. He knows that, and he accepts that. No matter what, he’ll work hard to not disappoint him.

Kuroo kisses the tips of his fingers and presses them against the base of the gravestone. A symbol of love that lived, and love that will live forever. A love that people would write about in books because he remembers every high and every low in such detail that they could construct novel after novel. But a love he has to learn to live a life without, because the love can’t be given to him anymore. But it exists. As long as his memories are intact, the love will always exist in his heart.

He snaps the strings binding his heart to the stone, and with another whispered ‘I love you’.

Kuroo moves forward.