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Water and Brimstone

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Kuroo Tetsurou, veteran detective of Special Investigations 1st Unit, had a massive headache -- and it was all Bokuto’s fault.

“Seriously, Akaashi and I have been on so many dates,” the captain gushed. He was in 1st Unit’s office with Akaashi and Kuroo; the other members of the unit were all out on cases, except for Kenma, who’d gone to pick up a delivery order for lunch. “I wanna do something special tomorrow, y’know, since it’s been two months since he moved in with me--”

Kuroo rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. “On one hand, I’m super happy for you, but on the other, you’re totally bragging about it.”

“I am not bragging -- okay, maybe I am, just a little,” Bokuto grinned from his seat on the couch. He wilted a bit when Akaashi sat down beside him with an exasperated look.

“Don’t mind him, Kuroo-san. Why don’t you take Kenma somewhere on your next day off together?” he suggested politely.

Bokuto sighed theatrically as Kuroo turned faintly pink and looked away. “...Maybe because we’re not dating,” he mumbled. He glanced back just in time to see Akaashi’s mouth drop open in shock.

“...Are you serious?” he finally managed. “I thought for sure... I mean... I’m sorry, Kuroo-san, that was rude of me.”

“It’s fine--”

“No, it’s totally not fine,” Bokuto insisted. “C’mon! It’s ridiculous, Akaashi, I can’t tell you how frustrating it’s been seeing them dance around each other for years--”

At that moment, Kenma walked back into the room with his arms full of delivery bags. Bokuto immediately fell silent as Kuroo’s partner shot him a suspicious look.

“...What were you talking about?” he asked as he put the food on the table near Kuroo.

“Oh, uh... nothing!” Bokuto laughed awkwardly. “Just how hopeless Kuroo’s hair is.”

“Hey!” Kuroo protested. He looked helplessly at Kenma, who just shrugged.

“It’s not like he’s wrong,” he said as he handed Kuroo a can of melon soda. “Sorry,” he added, with the hint of a small smile at his lips.

Kuroo opened his drink with a frown. “You’re not sorry at all.”

Kenma smiled at him, and Kuroo smiled back. Neither of them noticed Bokuto nudge Akaashi in the arm; Akaashi just shrugged helplessly. Bokuto winked, and Akaashi narrowed his eyes; the captain of 1st Unit was up to something, and it was probably going to be ridiculous.


Bokuto wilted a little as Akaashi gave him a suspicious look. They were at a small cafe near the office on their lunch break, and Bokuto had been unusually quiet since the encounter with Kuroo the day before.

“This is about Kuroo-san and Kenma, right?” At Bokuto’s sheepish grin, he sighed. “What could we possibly do? Haven’t they been friends most of their lives?”

“Maybe they just need a little push from their other friends, right?!” Bokuto insisted. “C’mon! We could put them on a case together--”

“Koutarou. They’re partners. They’ve been partners for, what, six years now?” Akaashi sighed again and took another sip of his drink. “They always work together.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s true, but listen,” he said with a gleam in his eyes and a growing smile on his face. “I mean... a special kind of mission. Remember that one time on a stakeout when we had to pretend we were a couple for like, sixty seconds, before we actually got together?”

Akaashi squinted at him, and flushed a little. “...I’m not sure how I could forget that. What’s your point?”

“Well, I mean, what if Kuroo and Kenma had to do that... but for like, three days,” he grinned eagerly. “There is no way they’d be able to keep dancing around each other after that! Right?”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes. “You obviously have something specific in mind, but I can tell you it already sounds totally ridiculous.”

Bokuto crossed his arms and pouted. “Seriously, c’mon, give me some credit! Hear me out, it’s a really good idea! You’ll totally be on board with it... uh, probably,” he laughed sheepishly. “See, there’s this case that Chief’s been putting together...”

Akaashi put a hand up to stop him. “Tell me when we get back in the car.” He finished the last of his drink, and looked at Bokuto thoughtfully. “...Do you really think it’ll work, whatever it is?”

Bokuto’s smile was blinding. “There’s no doubt in my mind!”

“Let’s try something new for lunch today,” Kuroo said as he started the car.

Kenma finished buckling his seatbelt, and glanced over at his partner and childhood friend. “...Like what?”

“Hmm.” He tapped on the steering wheel in thought. “We should get donuts.”

Kenma gave him a blank look. “...Why donuts? Donuts aren’t lunch.”

“It’s an American thing, isn’t it? American cops love donuts, or something like that.” Kuroo grinned as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. “Some sugar would be nice, right? Maybe it’d make you a little more agreeable.”

Kenma ignored the joke about his attitude. “I’d rather have apple pie.”

“Yeah, but you’d always rather have apple pie,” Kuroo chuckled. “What if I told you this place has an apple pie donut?” Kenma’s eyes lit up, and Kuroo laughed as he turned onto a side street. “Yeah, I thought that’d get your attention. We can always eat something else later. But for now, let’s get some donuts. My treat.”

“You’ve been buying me lunch almost every day for months,” Kenma pointed out. “Let me buy it for once.”

“No can do,” Kuroo said. His smile changed a little, and became more serious as his voice softened. “As far as I’m concerned, I owe you. For the rest of my life.”

Kenma frowned, just slightly. “...You don’t have to buy me lunch forever because of what happened on New Year’s.”

Kuroo glanced at him as they stopped at a red light, and Kenma felt his chest grow warmer at the slight smile on the other man’s face. “After what you did for me, buying you lunch for the rest of our lives is the least I can do.”

“You would’ve done the same thing for me,” Kenma insisted quietly. “You don’t have to pay me back, or anything like that.”

Kuroo sighed as a fond smile quirked at the edges of his lips. The light changed color, and he continued driving; he spoke as his eyes carefully scanned the road ahead. “That’s true. But I’m still gonna buy your lunch anyway.”

Kenma flipped his closed cell phone idly between his hands as he stared out of the window in thought. The silence between them wasn’t uneasy or awkward; after so many years around each other, it almost never was. A couple minutes later, Kuroo parked the car in a lot as they arrived at the shop. “I’ll be back. Don’t miss me too much,” he grinned.

Kenma rolled his eyes and opened a game on his phone to pass the time as Kuroo shut the door and walked away. But after a moment, he lowered the phone into his lap and stared out the window, lost in thought yet again.

I wonder why he’s so hung up on what I did for him. His right shoulder ached a little, and he massaged it absentmindedly. Most people wouldn’t still be so focused on it six months after it happened... right? Is it because we’re partners? Or... Just then, he heard the driver side door open, and turned his head to see Kuroo climb back into the car with a small paper bag.

“I got you two,” he said as he closed the door again. His eyes flickered to the hand that Kenma was using to massage his shoulder, and his brows knitted slightly in concern. “...You okay?” he asked softly.

Kenma shrugged nonchalantly, and peered into the bag. “Yeah,” he replied as he took out one of the apple pie donuts. “Just aches a little. Don’t worry about it.” He took a bite of the small pastry, and closed his eyes in bliss. “Mmm.”

A small, fond smile quirked at Kuroo’s lips, and he took a bite of one of his own donuts before chewing quietly for a moment. “Oh, hey. Do you have physical therapy tonight?”

“Yeah.” Kenma ate the rest of his pastry, and Kuroo laughed.

“You practically inhaled that thing. New favorite?”

Kenma shrugged. “It doesn’t beat regular apple pie. But it’s a pretty close second.”

“Not too bad, then.” Kuroo’s smile faded into another of his serious, thoughtful expressions. “Is it okay if I come with you tonight?”

“Please,” Kenma replied quickly. He seemed to shrink into himself for a moment, and his voice was quieter when he spoke again. “...Please. If you want, I mean.”

Kuroo turned a little in his seat to face his partner. “Yeah, of course,” he said softly. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, I’ll always wanna go.”

Kenma’s gaze moved to the window again; his expression seemed neutral, but Kuroo could see the barest hints of anxiety and shame in his features. “Yeah. It just... still reminds me a lot of what happened. When I thought I was gonna die.” ‘So I get nervous when you’re not there’  was the unspoken weight to the words, the feeling that Kenma couldn’t quite bring himself to voice aloud.

But he’d been friends with Kuroo for twenty years, since they were both barely old enough to be in school -- so Kuroo picked up on it anyway, as easily as if Kenma had screamed it at the top of his lungs. “Yeah, makes sense. Well, it’s no hassle for me, so I don’t mind,” he replied casually.

“Isn’t it boring?” Kenma asked. “And we’re tired after work, too.”

Kuroo shrugged. “I find it relaxing.” Kenma squinted at him, and he laughed and ruffled the shorter man’s hair. “Sounds a little weird with no context, right? But it’s good to see you recover, is all. You know? You’re getting better.”

Kenma twisted his phone in his hands, and failed to hide his tiny smile. “...You’ve become even more embarrassing since I got shot.”

Warm laughter filled the car as Kuroo pushed the bag with donuts into Kenma’s hands before he buckled his seatbelt. “Comes with the territory. It’s part of the job, right? I’ve been your best friend for most of your life. I’ve gotta fill my quota.”

He got an unintelligible grumble in response as Kenma turned his gaze out of the window once more. Kuroo reached forward and turned the radio on as he pulled away from the curb and began to drive, and Kenma found his thoughts drifting yet again.

Best friends. Kuroo hummed along to the song playing on the radio, and Kenma felt a mixture of profound fondness and vague discomfort.

Why doesn’t it feel like that’s enough for me anymore?

As Kenma went through his stretching exercises with the therapist, Kuroo watched quietly from the side.

He observed intently, as he always did, but pretended like he wasn’t by keeping his phone open in his hands. His heart was heavy with a mixture of pride, protectiveness and regret, and every small grimace he saw on Kenma’s face made his chest ache.

Carefully, Kenma went through the familiar motions as his doctor guided him; they’d become much easier for him over the last few months as the condition of his shoulder improved. It still wasn’t easy, but it had gotten much easier; he hated physical therapy far less than when he’d originally started it.

“You’ve made remarkable progress,” his doctor said with a smile as Kenma finished and slipped his shoes back on. “Honestly, you were quite lucky. Most people that suffer bullet wounds in the shoulder have to endure highly reduced movement and a fair amount of pain, even after therapy. But your condition has already returned almost back to normal.”

“I’d still be lucky, even if I had to deal with that,” Kenma said with a small shrug as he picked his bag up from the floor.

The doctor chuckled quietly, but the look on his face was slightly somber. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. A very optimistic way to think about it. Well, I’m glad you’re still with us, Detective.”

“Me too,” Kuroo said with a smile as he stood up and ruffled Kenma’s hair. “Thanks for all your help.”

“Of course. Please call me if you need anything. Take care, now.”

Kuroo gave him a lazy salute as he turned to leave. Kenma followed close behind as they left the building; it was beginning to get dark outside as the last wisps of dusk faded into the night. They made their way back to the car in silence; Kuroo didn’t speak until they’d both fastened their seatbelts and he’d started the engine.

“Feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” Kenma was quiet for several more moments as Kuroo pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. “...Just tired. I wanna go to bed.”

“Dinner first,” Kuroo said. Kenma groaned in response, and Kuroo just laughed. “You’re already way too short and scrawny. Apple pie donuts aren’t nutritious enough for you to get away with skipping a meal. Sorry.”

“I’m not nearly as scrawny as I was in high school,” Kenma complained.

“Oh? Could’ve fooled me,” Kuroo said with a smirk. “Let’s stop by Fukuro Grill and pick something up. You can put in an online order on your phone, so it’ll almost be done by the time we get there. Sound good?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll pull their site up...”

“Nice. Hey, get some yakiniku for me? Bokuto’s been talking about it all day and got me craving it.”

Kenma hummed in response, and for a minute, the only sound in the car was him rapidly pushing buttons on his phone. Kuroo found it peaceful, and relaxing in its familiarity -- and ever since he’d almost lost Kenma six months before, he found himself cherishing even the simplest of moments. A rush of tension in his heart left him a little breathless as his thoughts turned inward -- I almost lost him. I still can’t believe I came so close to losing him forever.

“All right. Apparently it’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.” Kenma squinted at the clock on his screen. “It should only take us like five to get there, though.”

“No sweat. We can just sit at a table and drink something while they finish.” He fiddled with the radio, and stopped when it reached an enka station -- then immediately began singing along.

“Ugh, no,” Kenma griped as he reached forward to switch the station to something else. “You don’t even like enka.”

“Nope,” Kuroo agreed with a huge grin, “But I like seeing you wrinkle your nose every time I play it.” He chuckled as Kenma rolled his eyes; he couldn’t even see him do it, since he was watching the road as he drove, but he knew him well enough to have practically sensed it anyway. “Come on, enka is poetic. Really beautiful stuff.”

Kenma huffed. “No. You’re so full of it.”

Kuroo’s smile grew larger. “At least my singing is good, though, right?”

“No, it’s terrible,” Kenma replied immediately.

Kuroo pouted as he turned onto a side street. “That’s rude, and also a total lie. My voice is beautiful. I know you like my singing. I’ve totally caught you listening to me sing more than once.”

“Just because I like it, that doesn’t mean it’s good,” Kenma shot back.

“Aha! You admit that you like it, then!” Kuroo grinned. Kenma groaned a little in annoyance, and sank down in his seat. Kuroo glanced to the side for a moment to confirm his suspicion, and sure enough, his partner’s cheeks were faintly pink. “No need to be flustered. My ballads could move the heart of even the surliest critic.”

“You seriously are so full of it,” Kenma muttered. A small smile curved at his lips despite himself, though; the back-and-forth teasing felt as natural to both of them as breathing. “Embarrassing as always.”

Kuroo’s grin grew larger as he pulled over and parked the car. “Thank you kindly.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” Kenma said with a quiet laugh as he took his seatbelt off.

Kuroo’s laughter blended with the background noise of the restaurant as they shut the car doors and walked inside together. The atmosphere was warm, and lively without being too noisy or crowded -- one of the main reasons Kenma liked it there so much.

Kuroo waved lazily at the cashier, who waved back; the members of 1st Unit were all familiar faces in the restaurant. He took a chair at the closest empty table, and Kenma sat down quietly beside him like he always did. A few moments later, a waiter greeted them politely with two glasses of water; Kuroo sipped at his as Kenma idly tapped away at an otome game on his phone.

Kuroo watched with his usual interest. “That guy’s an ass,” he said as one of the characters insulted the protagonist. “Don’t date that one.”

“Yeah, he’s annoying,” Kenma agreed. “Wait until you see the other ones, they’re better. He’s the worst romantic option in the game.”

They easily passed the next fifteen minutes together until their food was ready. When the waiter brought it over, it was already bagged up; they thanked him, and Kuroo hooked his arm around Kenma’s shoulders as they walked back to the car.

“Make sure you eat all of this, okay?”

“We’re not even home yet, and you’re already nagging me,” Kenma sighed. There was another hint of a smile on his face, though. “I’ll finish what I can. But I’m tired.”

“Always room for dinner.” Kuroo started the car after they buckled up, and pulled smoothly back into the street. “Hell, start on it now if you want. The sooner you finish that, the sooner I’ll stop bugging you and let you sleep.”

Kenma sighed with exasperation as he opened the bag to pick at his takeout. Ten minutes later, they were back at their apartment complex, and half of his food was gone.

“Nice. Come on, we can finish eating together while you play something,” Kuroo said as he stifled a yawn.

“You’re more tired than I am,” Kenma said with a quiet smile as they made their way into the lobby.

Kuroo shrugged. “Comes with the territory. All that hard work, you know?”

“Pffft,” Kenma chuckled as they walked into an elevator. He hit the button for the fourth floor, and leaned against the wall. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Hey,” Kuroo objected. With a smirk, he leaned over and ruffled Kenma’s hair yet again. “You’re so rude when you’re tired. And pretty much all the time, I guess.”

“I am not.” The elevator doors opened with a soft ding as they reached the 4th floor and walked down the hallway, side by side. “There’s a difference between quiet and rude.”

“Fair enough.” Kuroo took his keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the door; once they were inside, they both slipped their shoes off and made a beeline for the couch. “Time to eat! I’m starving.” He pulled out his container of yakiniku as Kenma took the last of his own food. “Hey, are you gonna play something once you finish that, or go right to bed?”

“I’m going to get a little further in Dragon Quest VIII. It’s getting really good since I got the last party member.” He began to quickly finish the remainder of his dinner, and Kuroo chuckled as he took a bite of his own.

“Cool. Let me watch?”

Kenma gave him a blank look as he swallowed what he’d been chewing on. “You always watch. When have I ever said no?”

Kuroo shrugged. “Hey, you were just complaining about how tired you are. Figured you might not want me in your business for once.”

A small smile curved at Kenma’s lips as he glanced away. “...I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “I’m just surprised you haven’t gotten bored with it, after all these years.”

“It’s pretty much tradition at this point. But definitely my favorite one,” Kuroo said between bites. “It’s fun!” And a good excuse to be close.

“You’re weird,” Kenma laughed.

Kuroo grinned back. “Like you’re one to talk.”

It only took a couple minutes for Kenma to finish the rest of his food; as soon as he was done, he turned on the television and the PS2. Before he sat back down, Kuroo spread out languidly; Kenma took a seat in between his legs, and Kuroo leaned forward so that his chest was warm against Kenma’s back.

The casual intimacy was far from unusual for them, but they both still secretly cherished it all the same. Gently, Kuroo rested his chin on Kenma’s shoulder as he leaned forward, and loosely looped his arms around the smaller man’s waist. Outwardly, Kenma didn’t react -- but a fond, slightly nervous warmth bloomed in his chest, and the smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his lips.

They stayed there like that for over an hour, until Kenma was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open any longer. But when he put the controller down and turned to tell Kuroo he was done, he realized the other detective was already asleep.

With a fond smile, he wiggled out of Kuroo’s grasp to turn the PS2 off before he returned to the couch to gently shake his partner awake.

“Hey. You should go to bed,” he said quietly.

“I am in bed,” Kuroo said groggily. “Plenty comfortable.”

“The couch and your bed aren’t the same thing,” Kenma pointed out dryly.

Instead of replying with anything that resembled actual words, Kuroo sprawled out even more, raised his hand, and motioned Kenma over. With a tired sigh, he laid on the open space Kuroo had made for him; the other detective wasted no time at all, and immediately enveloped him in a warm, comfortable embrace.

“See? It’s nice,” Kuroo mumbled against Kenma’s forehead.

“You say it like we haven’t done this a million times before,” Kenma grumbled halfheartedly. Kuroo didn’t answer; he was already fast asleep again, and snoring quietly into Kenma’s hair.

Not like I mind this at all, if I’m being honest with myself, Kenma thought as he snuggled closer. It’s... nice. Comfortable. Warm. And I feel... safe. He smiled to himself as he began to doze off -- because he knew that Kuroo felt the same way.

A long time ago, Kenma would have never imagined that 'safe'  was a word anyone would associate with him. But over the years of working together, Kuroo had never shown any doubt in his abilities -- and after he’d saved his life on New Year’s, his respect for Kenma had expanded even more.

I wonder, though... His thoughts were hazy as sleep began to take hold of him. If he’s still scared of losing me, after what happened...

Memories of gunfire and the feeling of cold, blood-slick grass came crashing back at the thought, and he felt his entire body go rigid with sudden tension. But even asleep, Kuroo seemed to sense his distress; he pulled him closer, and his lips grazed Kenma’s forehead as he whispered something unintelligible.

He relaxed almost immediately into the comfortable, reassuring intimacy. It was always easier to fall asleep on the couch with Kuroo than it was alone in his own bed, and this time was no exception.

“Rise and shine.”

Kenma groaned and burrowed deeper into the comfort of the couch. He curled into the warm, soft blanket around his shoulders; Kuroo must have put it on him when he woke up earlier.

“Come on, I’m cooking breakfast. And it’s already seven in the morning.” The cozy warmth vanished as Kuroo suddenly pulled the blanket away; Kenma rolled over and glared at him before he blearily rubbed at his eyes.

“Ugh, fine.” He sat up and stretched for a moment, then stood and yawned as he made his way to the bathroom. He could hear the sounds of Kuroo whistling and something sizzling on the stove, along with the coffee pot’s wet gurgles as he slid the door shut.

He turned the water on and stepped under the spray; almost immediately, he felt much more alert and refreshed. Spurred on by his hunger, he finished quickly and toweled himself dry before brushing his teeth. He wasted no time in going to his room and getting dressed; by the time he was ready, Kuroo had a simple breakfast laid out on the kitchen table, and was sipping at a cup of coffee.

“Smells good,” he said as he sat down and immediately began to eat.

“That’s because it is good,” Kuroo smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, and continued to eat as Kuroo checked his emails on his phone. He finished up and drained the last of his coffee before he stood up to do the dishes while Kuroo told him what they’d missed in the office that morning.

“And Bokuto is insisting that I have to go pick up a bunch of reports with Akaashi as soon as we get in. No idea why he’s being so weird about it, though.” He squinted at his phone suspiciously. “He’s probably up to something. He thinks he’s smooth, but he’s about as subtle as a brick.”

“What do you think it is?” Kenma asked as he turned the sink off. “Neither of our birthdays is for a while. And Akaashi’s is even further away than ours.”

An idea wormed its way into Kuroo’s mind, and he narrowed his eyes at his phone as the suspicion began to blossom. “Dunno.”

It doesn’t seem that way to me. “Uh huh,” was all Kenma said, though; he didn’t push it. He quickly tugged on his tie and slung his bag over his shoulder before he grabbed his shoes; Kuroo was right behind him, and locked the door as they left.

This better not be about the dating thing, Kuroo thought as they made their way down to the lobby. They were both quiet as they walked to the car; Kenma rubbed his eyes with an irritable sigh as he tried to tune out the shrill birdsong nearby. Kuroo tried not to grimace as he started the engine, still wondering what Bokuto was up to; he didn’t want his partner to put the pieces together and get wind of his feelings.

‘Course, Bokuto would say I’m an idiot if I think Kenma doesn’t already know. He turned the radio to the same enka station he’d found the night before, and grinned as Kenma glared at him. A moment later, cheerful pop radiated from the speakers as Kenma fiddled with the dial, and Kuroo smoothly pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.

Maybe he does know. He’s sharper than anyone I’ve ever met. His eyes flickered briefly to his partner as they stopped at a red light; Kenma was reading emails on his phone, and didn’t seem to notice.

But if he does, he hasn’t said anything about it, after all these years. A sense of heavy longing settled onto his heart, familiar in its burden. And I’m determined not to ruin this. I’ll take what I can get.

Kenma hummed quietly along to the radio as Kuroo drove, and it solidified Kuroo’s resolve.

If that means we’re friends forever, then that’s good enough for me.

“Hey hey heeey, good morning!” Bokuto’s smile was radiant as Kuroo and Kenma walked into the office. “Kuroo! Akaashi’s ready to go grab those reports whenever you are! Oh, maybe get me a melon soda from the machine while you’re near the records office?” he asked sweetly.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes. “Sure.” He put his bag on the long desk in the middle of the room, where Kenma had already opened his laptop and sat down. “Let’s get going, Akaashi.”

The vice-captain of 1st Unit sighed and stood up. “Okay. Sorry about this, Kuroo-san.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

As soon as Akaashi closed the door behind them, Bokuto stood up from the couch and moved over to the desk, where he sat across from Kenma. With a dramatic flare, he put his elbows on the top, and steepled his fingers as he looked at the other detective with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“...Do you need something?” Kenma asked drily.

“Hey, don’t be such a sourpuss!” Bokuto said defensively. “I just have a special case for you and Kuroo! I’d work it with Akaashi, but we’re all tied up with other stuff right now.”

Kenma narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you had him go downstairs with Akaashi? You didn’t want to tell us at the same time, for some reason.”

“Uh, no? I dunno what you’re talking about!” he said with a forced laugh. “Anyway, it’s totally great! I need you two to go undercover, and get this, it’s on a cruise! How awesome is that, right?!”

Kenma’s face immediately went pale. “...A cruise. How long is it? Why?”

“Three whole days out at sea!” he grinned brightly. “So, we have an art collector, Nanase Michiru, that’s hosting this cruise -- big party sort of thing, y’know, tons of rich people socializing. But someone’s been stealing from her recently, and she thinks they might try to nab some of the stuff she’s gonna show off on the boat.” His smile grew wider. “But what really makes it interesting is that we got an anonymous tip a few days ago... someone says she’s been smuggling weapons and drugs.”

“So you want Kuroo and I to investigate and try to prevent any thefts, but investigate the potential smuggling at the same time.” He took a deep breath, and forced himself to unclench his jaw. “But you said we have to go undercover, and it sounds like you already have identities set up for us too.”

“Bingo!” Bokuto said with obvious excitement.

Kenma felt his patience start to wear thin. “Well, what is it?”

The captain of the unit leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

“You and Kuroo will have to pretend to be married.”

to be continued in chapter 2