Monday the following week.
“Members of the jury, Hanamaki Takahiro has been charged in a one count information with the crime of assault and battery. The information alleges that four weeks ago to the day, the defendant Hanamaki Takahiro did verbally threaten and physically harm the victim Hagimura Souta. To this charge, Hanamaki Takahiro has entered a plea of not guilty. District Attorney, you may call your first witness.”
The prosecution called a man whose name Hanamaki didn’t care to remember, but he sure as hell recognized him. He was Hagimura’s getaway driver, though he wasn’t introduced as such to the court, obviously. Hanamaki rolled his eyes when they had him swear to tell the “truth”. Yeah, right.
“Okazaki-san, what do you do for a living?” the district attorney asked.
“I’m a chauffeur for Hagimura-sama.”
“You’re a beta, correct?”
“That is correct.”
“How long have you been working for Hagimura-san?”
“Nearly eight years now.”
“So you know him well?”
“I suppose I do.”
“Where were you on the night of the incident?”
“I was with Hagimura-sama, driving through downtown.”
“Where were you headed?”
“We were on our way back to Hagimura-sama’s residence after attending a scheduled engagement with one of Hagimura-sama’s associates across town. They had met to discuss the details of a potential business venture.”
“And what business is Hagimura-san involved in?”
“He’s the CEO of a travel agency called Next Experience.”
“Impressive. Now, the incident occurred downtown, outside the establishment called Bar K. What were you and Hagimura-san doing there that night?”
“Hagimura-sama wanted to stop in for a few drinks to celebrate a successful meeting with his new business partner.”
“Were you there when Hanamaki-san approached Hagimura-san outside the bar?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Can you describe the incident as you witnessed it?”
“Hagimura-sama had not yet gone inside when Hanamaki-san approached him. Hanamaki-san was clearly intoxicated and extremely aggressive toward Hagimura-sama. It seemed like Hanamaki-san wanted to pick a fight. He shouted obscenities and when Hagimura-sama told him to move along, that’s when Hanamaki-san charged at him. He began to beat Hagimura-sama mercilessly on the ground.”
Hanamaki could feel his blood boiling just beneath his skin. That wasn’t how anything happened and the motherfucker knew it, but he couldn’t say anything without running the risk of incriminating himself. It didn’t help that Hagimura had appeared in court for the trial, seated across the room at the prosecution’s table with a bruised face, one arm in a cast, and the other in a sling. “Mercilessly” didn’t begin to cover it. Hanamaki had been blinded with rage that night and even he knew the evidence looked bad. When he glanced over at Midori, though, she didn’t appear fazed. In fact, she looked bored.
That returned some confidence to Hanamaki. She must have built up quite the speech in his defense by now that none of this filibustering would matter at the end of the day.
“Did Hagimura-san do anything to provoke Hanamaki-san?”
“No. Hagimura-sama only tried to defend himself after Hanamaki-san attacked him.”
“What happened next?”
“Hagimura-sama was finally able to push off Hanamaki-san and get in the car. He told me to drive, so I got us out of there as quickly as I could. I called the police shortly after getting Hagimura-sama to a hospital. He was badly injured and needed immediate attention.”
“Is there any doubt in your mind that Hanamaki Takahiro ruthlessly attacked Hagimura Souta without reasonable provocation?”
“None.”
“Do you see Hanamaki-san in court today?”
“I do.”
“Can you point him out for the jury?”
“He’s sitting just over there.”
Okazaki dutifully pointed to the defense. Hanamaki stiffened slightly in his seat, but kept his reaction controlled. Letting this guy get under his skin in the middle of his trial wouldn’t do him any favours. As much as he would love to leap over the table and wring this guy’s neck, then do the same to Hagimura Souta, that would be an extremely bad idea. Not to mention that he was kind of handcuffed at the moment.
“No further questions, Your Honour.”
The district attorney finally returned to his seat. The defense counsel was permitted to cross examine the witness. Not one to waste any opportunity, Midori stood and approached the stand to address Okazaki herself. As far as Hanamaki was concerned, she looked every bit the predator stalking its prey. Oikawas, he thought bemusedly.
“So, Okazaki-san, you say you’re Hagimura-san’s chauffeur of eight years?”
“That’s right.”
Hanamaki didn’t miss the clipped tone Okazaki used with her compared to how he had answered the district attorney. He narrowed his eyes. Was it because she was an omega, or because he’d had an arrangement with the district attorney from the beginning? He actually suspected it might be both. Nonetheless, Midori was undeterred.
“Have you ever known Hagimura-san to be particularly violent?”
“Not particularly.”
“But occasionally?” she pressed with a glint in her eyes. There was a subtle shift in Okazaki’s posture, present in the way he straightened up a bit. It was already quite clear where she was going with this.
“On occasion,” he conceded. “But just as any alpha might. No more often than one might expect.”
“During these...occasional violent outbursts, has Hagimura-san been known to drink?”
“He does enjoy his alcohol. It’s why he chose a bar to celebrate.”
“Had Hagimura-san been drinking that night with the associate he went to meet?”
“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t present during the meeting.”
“Did he appear at all inebriated after the fact?”
“...Not that I recall.”
“Objection, Your Honour,” interrupted the district attorney as the alpha stood from his seat at the prosecution table. Midori paused her line of questioning as he continued. “I fail to see how any alleged drinking habits my client may or may not have are in any way relevant to the claim.”
“Is there a point you are trying to make, Defense Counsel?” the judge asked.
“The point,” Midori said, “is that in the past, Hagimura Souta has been charged with numerous DUIs and reckless endangerment while under the influence. Please feel free to examine your records, Your Honour.”
The court was silent as the judge kindly took the suggestion and shuffled through papers and folders laid out before her to refer to the aforementioned charges on Hagimura’s records. A few long, pregnant moments of silence passed as she read through the documents before offering a nod to Midori.
“The defense counsel is correct. Please continue your cross examination. District Attorney, you may have a seat. Objection overruled.”
The district attorney shot Midori an annoyed glance before sitting down once more. Midori’s lips twitched into a subtle smirk before she trained her expression back into one of professionalism and returned her attention to Okazaki, who seemed just as miffed that the objection had gone ignored.
“In light of Hagimura-san’s history of drinking and aggression as a result,” Midori continued, “I firmly believe there to be reasonable suspicion that Hagimura-san aided in the provocation of Hanamaki-san’s actions. Okazaki-san, I have only a couple more questions for you. To your knowledge, has Hagimura-san ever taken a mate?”
“Objection, Your Honour!” the district attorney spoke again, placing his hands flat on the table in front of him as he made to stand again.
“Overruled.”
“But Your Honour—”
“Have a seat, District Attorney.” The judge leveled a warning glare on the alpha. Hanamaki could hear the rumble of a muted growl in the alpha’s chest as he reluctantly settled in his seat once more.
“...As I was saying.” Midori sighed. Despite the district attorney’s sincere frustration at having his witness questioned like this, it was also clear that the interruptions were being leveraged to disrupt her line of thought, as well. “Okazaki-san?”
“...No. As far as I’m aware, Hagimura-sama has never bonded with anyone.”
“Thank you. One last question. Has Hagimura-san ever threatened you?”
“Excuse me?” There was a quiet murmuring amoung the jury following the question and Okazaki’s reaction, but with a single look from the judge, they fell silent again.
“Has Hagimura-san ever threatened you?” Midori repeated. Okazaki hesitated, clearly debating his answer.
“I would like to remind you, Okazaki-san, that you swore an oath under penalty of perjury to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” the omega said. The judge glanced down at the witness. Okazaki visibly swallowed.
“...Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, Hagimura-sama has threatened me in the past.”
The whole court clearly expected a line of follow-up questions to elaborate on that, but true to her word, Midori refrained. Instead, she turned to the judge with a respectful bow.
“No further questions, Your Honour.” She returned to the defense table, but she did not take her seat yet. Hanamaki began to lean over to offer a discreet congratulation on ruffling the opposition, but something about her expression made him hesitate. She wasn’t smiling. She had that stony, focused look in her eyes that reminded him of Oikawa when he got really serious on the court. Those two really were a lot alike, despite all their differences.
“Okazaki-san, you may step down. Are there any more witnesses on behalf of the People?” the judge asked the district attorney.
“The prosecution rests,” the alpha bit out through clenched teeth. The judge nodded and turned back to Midori.
“Defense Counsel, do you have any witnesses?”
Ah. This was the part where they got totally screwed. After their conversation with Yachi two days ago, Hanamaki was sure he had ruined their chances of securing their only witness. Midori had sent him away to wait in the car while she comforted the other omega in her state of despair. He couldn’t imagine Midori had even bothered to ask for her testimony after that. Yachi had already been through enough at the hands of Hagimura Souta. When even her “rescuer” had cruelly pressed her to admit to such a foul violation of her very soul, she had every right to refuse any and all affiliation with them both. Midori hadn’t spoken to him at all on the drive back to Matsukawa’s, either. He really screwed the pooch on that one.
“The defense calls the defendant, Hanamaki Takahiro.”
Hanamaki’s head snapped up, eyes wider than softballs as he gaped up at his lawyer. What the fuck?! Why him?! Before he had a chance to voice his protest (because that would go over well), his handcuffs were being detached from the hook on the table and he was guided up to the witness stand, sworn in, and asked to state his name to the court. Hanamaki felt a little numb, his blood rushing in his ears. Damn his stage fright. Damn it all to hell. Playing on a volleyball court was one thing. Standing in front of a courtroom and the gods themselves was a completely different playing field.
It didn’t help that, when he nervously scanned the seated audience, he locked eyes with a familiar brown gaze. Oikawa? And next to him was Yahaba, Kyotani, Saeko. He half-expected to see Matsukawa there, too, but then he was doused with the aching reminder of where the alpha was instead. His own breathing sounded far too loud to his own ears.
“Hanamaki-san.”
His eyes flickered back to Midori, his spatial awareness snapping back into place like a rubber band while the omega stood before the witness stand again and stared at him expectantly.
“Y-yeah?” he answered lamely. Midori sighed, the barest flash of exasperation crossing her eyes before it was erased just as quickly.
“Hanamaki-san, what is your occupation?”
“...I-I’m a—” He stopped to clear his throat to dispel the crack in his voice. “I’m a coach for a junior high volleyball team.” He despised how much his voice still shook.
“Chidoriyama Junior High. Your old school, correct?”
“Yeah. I mean—yes.”
“As a coach, you’re regularly responsible for supervising the students on your team, yes? You’ve been trained in safety protocols, school drills, basic first aid?”
“Yes. All of that, and I’m CPR certified and I know about all of their medical conditions and how to handle them.”
He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to add on to that, but he felt as though that was what she wanted out of him. It was kind of hard to tell with how cold and analytical she was while questioning him. He couldn’t expect her to treat him differently than any other witness, though.
“Impressive. Have you ever had to address an emergency with your junior high team?”
“A few times.”
“What kind of emergencies, if you don't mind providing some examples?”
“Well…”
He tried to keep his eyes on her while he sifted through his memories. He was way too paranoid about his eye movement being wrongfully interpreted as a lying tick or something. He’d read some sort of article about that years ago and never thought anything of it right up until now, naturally.
“One time one of the kids got a concussion after taking a volleyball to the head a little too hard. I got him to the nurse’s office and helped keep him lucid until an ambulance got there to take him to the hospital. We called his mom, too, of course.
“Another time we had an unexpected lockdown at the school after a shooter was spotted on campus. We were all in the gym practicing, so I locked up all the doors and got them all inside the locker room to wait it out. They were all pretty shaken up, and we couldn’t really talk, so I, uh...started teaching them sign language to calm them down.”
Midori seemed caught off guard by that, much like the jury and the rest of the audience. She gave him a curious look, the slightest twitch of a smile at her lips that she fought valiantly to subdue.
“Sign language?” she asked.
“Yeah. Just kinda seemed like the thing to do, I guess.”
“While those examples were very touching,” the judge interrupted, albeit with a note of reluctance, “your point, Defense Counsel?”
“Of course.” Midori nodded, righting herself once more. “The point is that Hanamaki Takahiro is known to be a respected figure of authority who has made a career of delicately guiding and nurturing youth in a responsible, controlled environment. And, might I add, he has no record of violent behaviour, nor any previous charges against him, for that matter. Your Honour, if you would like to confirm?”
It seemed the judge had already been perusing Hanamaki’s records while he had been talking. She held up the apparent folder in question with a nod of approval.
“The defense counsel is correct.”
“Thank you, Your Honour. Now, Hanamaki-san, on the night of the incident, do you deny that you were out drinking at Bar K?”
“No, I don’t deny that.”
“Why were you there that night?”
“I was having a few drinks with some friends. We had all just finished seeing a movie.”
“What kind of movie?”
“A comedy.”
“So would you say you were in high spirits at the time?”
“Yeah. We were all having a good time.”
“Were your friends present when the incident occurred?”
“No. They all left home for the night. I was still waiting on a cab to drive me home.”
“How did you encounter Hagimura Souta?”
“The cab company said they’d get someone out there in about fifteen minutes, so I went outside to wait. I heard a commotion in the alley behind the bar and went to check it out.”
“A commotion in the alley behind the bar,” Midori repeated. “Is there a public entrance to the bar in that alley?”
“No. There’s only the front entrance and the emergency exit on the other side facing the street.”
“Seems rather odd anyone would be loitering about behind the bar in that case, especially for an important businessman like Hagimura Souta.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Hanamaki noted the subtle shift of Hagimura in his seat, and the way the district attorney nudged him with his foot under the table.
“When you went to investigate the commotion, what did you find?”
Hanamaki pursed his lips. This was where he confessed not to his crime, but to witnessing another.
“I found Hagimura Souta trying to force an omegan girl into the back of his car.”
There was a collective gasp from the entire courtroom, the audience and the jury alike. Even a couple of the officers stationed around the walls exchanged a few glances with one another. The dull murmur that started to rouse was silenced by two taps of the judge’s gavel.
“Objection, Your Honour,” said the district attorney for the third time during this trial. This time he stood without the judge’s opposition, the court undoubtedly curious as to what he had to say to that. “The defense has prepared a claim intended to incriminate the victim and deflect the charges placed against the defendant. It is imperative that we remain focused on the matter at hand—”
“Do you have any evidence to present to this claim, Defense Counsel?” the judge inquired without quite waiting for the district attorney to finish speaking. Midori lifted her chin.
“I do. The defense calls Yachi Hitoka.”
A lot of things happened at once. Hanamaki was escorted down from the stand and back to the defense table to be handcuffed to the hook once more. The district attorney continued to try to discourage the judge from allowing the witness to be summoned. The judge had to use her gavel at least twice before he finally took the hint and shut the hell up. The defense was permitted to call the witness.
Hanamaki’s head was spinning. Yachi was here? Midori actually convinced her to testify? How? Why? Shouldn’t she have told him about this beforehand? Did it make a difference? What baffled him the most was that the prosecution must have known this was going to happen. Midori wouldn’t have been able to get away with keeping a secret witness up her sleeve without disclosing it to the district attorney before the session began; that would have been grounds for a mistrial.
The doors at the front of the courtroom opened and every head turned to watch the petite blonde omega being escorted up the aisle to the witness stand. She kept her head down, eyes on her feet, her arms around her chest. There was a shuffle from the prosecution table followed by a distinct thud. Hanamaki glanced over to see the district attorney with a firm grip on Hagimura’s shoulder, as if he were keeping him in place. The “victim” was looking directly at Yachi with some repulsive mixture of fury and desire. It made Hanamaki’s stomach churn and left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
Yachi was sworn in and asked to introduce herself to the court. When she couldn’t be heard, she was asked to speak up. It was a clear struggle for her to do so. Her voice sounded so strangled, as if she had been choking for hours before walking into this room. Midori approached the stand.
“Yachi-san,” she began, her voice much more gentle than with either of the previous two witnesses she questioned. Yachi didn’t look up at her. “Can you please tell the court what happened on the night of the incident?”
Once she found her volume, Yachi was able to recount the story quite plainly. It was the same story she had told Hanamaki and Midori when they came to visit her. Although, she stopped just before she mentioned the part about the bite. Midori seemed to have planned for that.
“As I’m sure the court can see, this was not an act of random violence against an unsuspecting businessman. This was a brave act of defending another,” she said after thanking Yachi for her testimony.
“Objection, Your Honour,” said the district attorney yet again, sounding exhausted at this point. Honestly, Hanamaki was tired of hearing him say that, too. “My client has no affiliation with this omega. This is a false testimony.”
“Each witness has sworn an oath under penalty of perjury—” Midori was interrupted.
“Your witness’s story does not prove any of the allegations put forth against my client—”
“The defense requests the witness to be scented.”
That sure shut up the alpha quick. Midori fixed him with a glare before turning around to face the judge with a repetition of her request. The judge appeared to deliberate for a moment before approving the request, waving forward a specialized officer standing in the corner of the courtroom. A scent-hound—that was what people called officers who were specifically trained to sniff out criminals or drugs or what have you. They were almost always alphas with the occasional omega, seeing as betas didn’t have half as good a sense of smell as either rank, and their noses were sharper than the average person to begin with.
“This omega, Yachi Hitoka, has been criminally claimed against her will by Hagimura Souta,” Midori announced. “If the scent-hound would please confirm.”
The officer stepped up to the witness stand. Yachi seemed to shrink into an even smaller version of herself next to the invasion of her space, but she allowed herself to be scented nonetheless. The officer stood back again without much delay and offered a definitive nod to the judge. The thunderous bang of the judge’s gavel was immediate and deafening as she stood from her own chair, fingers curled around the edges of her desk.
“Mistrial! The prosecution has misrepresented the claim and provided questionable witness testimony!” she announced with a voice that filled the entire room. Even some of the alphas present ducked their heads under the force of it. “In addition, reasonable evidence has been provided to warrant a criminal investigation against the prosecution’s client, Hagimura Souta. The commencement of the investigation shall be immediate and Hagimura Souta will be detained until it is completed.”
Another bang of the gavel.
“Due to circumstances that will prevent the prosecution’s client from attending a retrial, the defendant Hanamaki Takahiro will be released of all charges placed against him. Effective immediately.”
The order was quite clear. An officer staggered forward to fumble with the keys to Hanamaki’s handcuffs and remove them. One last booming impact of the gavel echoed throughout the room with finality.
“Court dismissed!”
And just like that, it was over. Two officers moved to escort Hagimura out of the courtroom (they couldn’t exactly put handcuffs on him, given his cast and sling), not without protest. He seemed adamant that his lawyer do something about the situation. Instead, the district attorney just seemed resigned with what Hanamaki could only assume was one hell of a headache. He watched Midori walk over and exchange a few words with him, all in a surprisingly civil and pleasant manner, before they bowed to each other and parted ways. Hanamaki stood up to meet her as she was walking back, a smile building on his face as the realization settled in that they won.
“Midori-san, that was—”
“Otouto-kun!”
Instead of joining him in a well-deserved celebration of their victory, Midori walked straight past him and through the gate leading to the audience stands to greet her little brother instead. Hanamaki was left standing a little dumbfounded as he watched the two embrace, albeit with a look of distaste on Oikawa’s face.
“Why do you still call me that? It’s embarrassing,” Oikawa muttered, though he still returned the hug in kind. Midori laughed.
“Can’t I be happy to see my little brother? You never call,” she teased.
“You know I’ve been busy, Midori. Anyway, that was amazing! I can’t believe that went so smoothly,” Oikawa said. “I bet Hagimura was just beside himself when you called in that omega. Yachi, right?”
“I can’t believe you actually managed to find her!” Saeko commented with a grin, joining the rest of them with Yahaba and Kyotani in tow. “I thought for sure she would’a skipped town by now.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy,” Midori said. From where Hanamaki stood slightly behind them, he lowered his head, expecting a lecture about how he had handled that situation when they found Yachi. Instead, Midori glossed over it, which was equal parts relieving and somewhat even worse than being scolded in front of his friends. “But all’s well that ends well, right? Anyway, sorry to cut this short, but I have to go fill out some paperwork with the DA. We’ll meet up later, okay, Tooru?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Oikawa said, nodding. Saeko came up behind him to sling an arm over his shoulder, much to his apparent chagrin, and flashed a grin at Midori.
“Swing by the bar again sometime, yeah? I know just the thing to help you celebrate,” she said, throwing in a wink for good measure. Not unlike the last time those two spoke, Midori averted her gaze with a faint red tint to her cheeks and cleared her throat.
“Right. Well...see you guys later!” She didn’t waste another second scurrying out the door to finalize court papers or whatever it was that lawyers did. Yahaba chuckled and gave Saeko a side-eyed glance.
“Better be careful, going after an Oikawa,” he said. “They’re nothing but trouble.”
“I take offense to that,” said the one Oikawa who still remained, shrugging Saeko’s arm off his shoulders as he crossed his arms. “Although, if you plan on courting my sister, you’ll have your work cut out for you. First you’ll have to impress me. Then you’ll have to impress our parents.”
“No sweat!” Saeko exclaimed with all the confidence of the naturally charismatic alpha she was. “I could do that in my sleep. Oikawa Midori’s not gonna know what hit her!”
“Have you met their parents?” Yahaba asked doubtfully, raising a brow.
“Well, no,” she admitted. “But how bad could they be? I survived my parents; I think I can handle just about anything.”
While the three of them continued to bicker amoungst themselves, Hanamaki still felt at a loss, staring at the doors Midori had left through without so much as glancing in his direction after the trial ended. Was she still that mad at him? She could have at least let him thank her, he thought. Then again, maybe he was expecting too much. When he finally looked away from the door, he found Kyotani staring straight at him with that perma-scowl of his. Hanamaki wouldn’t admit to jumping a little at the sight of it.
“...Congratulations,” the alpha muttered. “You didn’t go to jail.”
“...Yeah,” Hanamaki agreed, nodding slowly. “Thanks.” He couldn’t help but think that was probably the most genuine thing Kyotani had ever said to him. They were never particularly close, after all, and Kyotani pretty much kept to himself anyway. Except when it came to Yahaba, of course.
“Oh, Makki, that was so scary to watch,” Oikawa chimed in then, finally extracting himself from Saeko’s bull-headed arguments to come take Hanamaki’s hands. The beta blinked. “I knew they were going to try something underhanded, but I never thought they would call a witness to lie under oath like that.”
“Yeah, that was pretty risky, especially since you had such strong evidence on your side,” Yahaba said, stepping forward to join them. “You think Hagimura tried to cut a deal with the DA?”
“Oh, definitely. He’s just the kind of slimy, no-good ne’er-do-well to try something like that.” Yahaba snorted.
“‘Ne’er-do-well’? What are you, a 1940s film noir?”
“Uh.” Their eyes turned back to Hanamaki when he softly cleared his throat and pulled his hands from Oikawa’s. “Thank you guys for coming to watch the trial and stuff, really, and I don’t mean to kill the mood or anything, but I think I just wanna go home. I’m...a little exhausted after all this.”
“Yeah, of course,” Yahaba said, gaze softening as he placed a hand on Hanamaki’s shoulder. “I can only imagine after going through all that.”
“I’ll drive you,” Oikawa offered. Hanamaki looked at him and tried not to let it turn into a glare.
“I don’t think that’s—”
“Please, it’s the least I could do,” he said. “I insist. Midori’s busy, you don’t want to get in Yahaba’s car—”
“Hey!”
“And I don’t drive,” Saeko finished with a shrug. “Loosen up, kid. You won, and that’s all that matters. You’re allowed to take a load off and let your pals take care of you.”
“Surprisingly well-put,” Oikawa said. Then he fished his keys out of his pocket, holding them up around his finger as he arched a brow at Hanamaki. “Shall we?”
Hanamaki wanted to narrow his eyes, but he summoned the willpower to refrain and instead simply nodded and followed Oikawa out of the courtroom after saying goodbye to the others. The bastard knew what he was doing and Hanamaki kind of hated that. He couldn’t exactly tell Oikawa to shove off in front of the others without raising questions. Questions that he didn’t want to answer, ones that weren’t his place to answer.
However, once they were outside in Oikawa’s car, all bets were off.
“What the hell’s your problem?” he snapped from the passenger seat while Oikawa was buckling up and starting the engine.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he claimed. Hanamaki knew this was a lie because every other time someone came after him with some kind of accusation, he started squawking and flailing about vulgarity and “well I never”. His calm, poised response this time spoke volumes.
“Bullshit,” Hanamaki hissed. “Why’d you offer to drive me home when you know Matsukawa doesn’t wanna see you?”
That seemed to trip him up a little. Oikawa flashed him a wide-eyed glance before blinking it away and turning eyes back to the road as he drove away from the courthouse. His lips were pursed and his jaw tense, but in his eyes there was only a poorly hidden pain. Hanamaki almost regretted what he said. Almost.
“I know,” Oikawa said eventually, quietly. “I know. I’m sorry. He doesn’t have to talk to me, and I won’t talk to him if that’s what he wants. I just...I need to see if he’s—…”
“You wanna know how sick he is,” Hanamaki supplied. Oikawa visibly swallowed and nodded, eyes never leaving the road ahead. Hanamaki watched him for a moment longer before turning to stare out the door window. “You know why he’s sick.” It wasn’t phrased as a question.
“Yes.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.”
They left it at that for the rest of the drive. Hanamaki fought back the growing tickle in the back of his throat. Thankfully it was a short commute. When they finally did arrive at the modest machiya Hanamaki shared with Matsukawa, Oikawa parked outside and left the car running as Hanamaki got out. He agreed to ask if Matsukawa would come outside for a moment, but that if he didn’t return in five minutes, then Oikawa should just leave.
When he walked inside, the house was quiet. He didn’t take off his shoes just yet, seeing as he would definitely want to be there if Matsukawa actually agreed to go outside and talk with Oikawa. He made his way up the stairs as softly as he could (he didn’t want to be too quiet and end up scaring his roommate, but he didn’t want to startle him with loud noises, either) and when he got to Matsukawa’s bedroom door, he knocked gently with just his knuckles. For a moment, he was only met with silence, not unlike his visit to Yachi’s with Midori, but this time, the door opened more quickly. He was met with a very tall, very exhausted man who looked about as one might expect after puking up nothing but flowers for days.
Still, the way his eyes widened after a few seconds as if he just registered that Hanamaki was standing there brought a light fluttering to his heart. He didn’t even have time to say hi before Matsukawa had him wrapped in one of his famously satisfying bear hugs, dubbed so for how rare they were. Hanamaki melted into his arms without protest, returning the embrace just as fiercely as he finally let it settle in that he was a free man and that rotten bastard was going to get locked up behind bars for good.
“You won?” Matsukawa muttered beside his ear. Hanamaki tried not to let it show how much that affected him. He nodded into Matsukawa’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I did,” he said, voice muffled. “You sound surprised. Did you really think we’d lose?” He felt more than heard Matsukawa chuckle before he released the hug, much to Hanamaki’s disappointment, and stood back to regard him with that half-lidded smile that could thaw glaciers in an instant.
“I was worried,” he admitted. “I remember Midori-san telling us how resourceful Hagimura is.”
“He may be resourceful, but he’s stupid. We found the girl from that night,” Hanamaki told him, face twisting into a grimace. “He forced a bond with her.”
“What?” Matsukawa’s reaction was every bit as reproachful and disgusted as theirs had been. “That’s— That’s—”
“Horrible,” Hanamaki agreed with a nod. “I know. Midori-san said she’d have her examined to see if it can be broken. It’s not gonna be pretty…”
Breaking a bond rarely was. The actual process of doing it by force, not unlike how this one was created, was akin to mental and emotional torture. After all, those two were the furthest thing from “in love”, so it wasn’t as if it would just fade away with the emotions. There were no emotions in this bond; just cruelty.
“...Hey, by the way, I’m sorry, but…” Hanamaki sighed and looked away. “Oikawa drove me here. He’s waiting outside and…” He spared an uncertain glance back up at Matsukawa, clearly apprehensive about even making the suggestion. Thankfully, though, the alpha seemed to understand. He pursed his lips, a crease in his brow, and took a moment to think it over. Hanamaki really wished he would just say no and tell him to leave it. Of course that wasn’t what happened.
“...I guess I should go talk to him.”
“Don’t say that like it’s some sort of obligation,” Hanamaki said, groaning. “It’s not. You don’t owe him shit.”
“I’m not mad at him like you are, Hana.”
“Well, maybe you should be.”
“But I’m not,” Matsukawa repeated, then he took a deep breath to let it out slowly. “What’s done is done. There’s no changing reality. Ignoring him isn’t gonna change anything, either. It’s just gonna keep making things awkward between all three of us.”
Hanamaki didn’t really have an argument to that. He wanted Matsukawa to be as pissed off at Oikawa as he was, wanted him to use that anger to replace the love he felt for someone who clearly didn’t deserve it, and maybe then things would change. Maybe, if he would just—
“Better get it over with,” Matsukawa muttered before shuffling past Hanamaki to make his way down the stairs. Hanamaki didn’t immediately follow, instead standing in the hallway with his fists clenched at his sides while he tried to convince himself that everything was fine.
Except it wasn’t because he felt that tickle in the back of his throat again and this time he couldn’t choke it down. He hurried down the hall to the bathroom where he could drop to his knees in front of the toilet and hack up the severed petals that had been trying to escape him all day. They didn’t come easily, especially since his throat was still a little raw from the entire blossom he’d expelled a couple days ago. Oikawa had better hope he didn’t say anything fucked up to Matsukawa while he wasn’t there.
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Outside, Matsukawa had just opened the front door to find Oikawa standing by his car. He opened his mouth to try for as normal a greeting as he could manage without looking the other in the eye, but he noticed Oikawa was on the phone, so he paused.
“That sounds great, babe,” Oikawa said into the phone, still turned away from him. He must not have known Matsukawa was standing there. “Tonight? Well, I don’t really have any plans…” He giggled at something the person on the other line said. It sounded entirely too...flirtatious. Matsukawa clenched his jaw. “Okay, I’ll see you soon, then. Don’t keep me waiting long ~”
He ended the call, but by the time he turned around, the front door slammed closed and Matsukawa was nowhere to be found. He had gone back inside and rushed back up the stairs, nearly trampling Hanamaki in the process as he was stepping out of the bathroom. The beta caught him and steadied him, but Matsukawa wouldn’t look at him, could only screw his eyes shut and shake his head when he asked what was wrong. Matsukawa dragged him into another embrace, this one far less gentle and more like he was scrambling for something to hold himself together.
Hanamaki, ever the patient and sturdy pillar of support, stood there and held him as tears prickled their way free of his eyes and down his cheeks, soaking into the other’s shirt. He hadn’t cried like this since the day he confessed to Oikawa and came home in tatters of himself. Hanamaki had seen him like this then, too, and had held him just the same, held him until he had no more tears left to shed and fell into a fitful sleep in the man’s arms on his bed. He was so pathetic, getting so distraught over one person, but it couldn’t be helped.
How was he supposed to feel after hearing that? After learning that not only had Oikawa rejected him in the cruellest manner possible, but then had turned around and found himself someone else to give his affection? It wasn’t that Matsukawa thought he was entitled to it; he had resigned himself to knowing his feelings wouldn’t be returned. But for Oikawa to have made it so glaringly obvious that he didn’t care by taking on a different partner after willingly distancing himself from dating for so long felt like getting stabbed in the gut. It was almost intentional. The only reason Matsukawa even bothered confessing in the first place was because he knew (he knew because Oikawa had told him) that he would only date someone who didn’t think differently of him for his celebrity status.
So that begged the question: who was it? Who was it that could have given that to him the same way Matsukawa could have? He couldn’t imagine it could be anyone they both already knew. None of their friends would do that to him.
Neither he nor Hanamaki went back outside after that, so neither of them could see how Oikawa had gotten back into his car and cried in a mirror image of his own best friend.