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“Sawamura! My office, now!”
Daichi stopped where he stood for a moment before turning on his heels and heading towards Director Ukai’s office. “On my way, sir,” he said to thin-fucking-air whilst maintaining his brisk pace.
The intercom system had been in place for a month. Daichi had been under the impression that it had been installed to complement the cameras and the rest of the state-of-the-art security system (which they’d probably have to change in a few years to keep it ‘state-of-the-art’), but apparently Director Ukai thought it was best used in terrifying his staff into saving the best cookies for him. And ordering people into his office.
Not that Daichi minded. It kept some of the younger agents and operatives in line. And the best cookies safe in the rec room.
Ukai Senior had left the Agency to his son after retiring. Ukai Jr, as some of the more daring operatives called him, was nowhere near as strict and by-the-book as his father had been, but he was fair and took absolutely no shit from anyone. Daichi rather liked the man, and they were on good terms.
He rounded the second-to-last corner and ran right into someone. His reflexes kept them both from falling on their asses as he grabbed the person’s hands and pulled him up close.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” he asked hurriedly, only looking up at the other man when he was sure neither of them was in danger of smashing their head on the floor.
Big, hazel eyes stared back at him, wide with astonishment. There was a small beauty mark under his left eye, and he had light, silvery hair.
He was the most beautiful person Daichi had ever seen, and probably the most beautiful person he ever would see.
The astonishment on the man’s face turned into a gentle smile and a slight blush, and Daichi realized they were standing fairly close together. Clearing his throat, he stepped back and let go of the man’s hands, only to regret it immediately. “Um, sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m alright,” the man replied.
God, even his voice.
“You’re pretty fast,” he continued, “I was so sure I’d end up on flat on my ass, but you caught me like I weigh nothing!”
“You’re pretty light,” Daichi rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you like that.”
The man waved dismissively. “It’s fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m Sugawara, by the way. Sugawara Koushi,” he held out his hand for a shake.
Daichi took it, only briefly marvelling at the softness of his skin before shaking it. “Sawamura Daichi. Call me Daichi,” he smiled.
Sugawara’s smile widened as their hands parted again. “In that case, you can call me Suga. All my friends do!”
He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re friends already? That was fast.”
Suga chuckled. “Well I’d certainly like to be your friend,” he teased, giving his bottom lip a nip before smiling full-force again. “Actually, can you help me with something?”
Daichi hoped he wasn’t blushing as hard as he thought he was when he nodded. “Sure, what do you need?” Yes, at least his voice was even.
“I’m looking for Director Ukai’s office, but I think I must’ve passed it by now,” Suga twirled his finger around in confusion.
Daichi blinked. “Um, I actually going there now,” he admitted, pointing down the hallway. “Wanna walk with me?”
Suga’s smile was almost blinding. “With pleasure!” he turned on his heels to the direction Daichi pointed at.
They made the rest of the short trip in comfortable silence. Daichi knocked on Ukai’s door and waited for the man’s voice to call out in before opening the door. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
Ukai looked up from the papers in front of him. “Yeah, get your ass in here. Oh, you brought Sugawara with you, great!” He stood up, gesturing for them both to come in.
Suga and Daichi glanced at each other before coming in to stand in front of Ukai’s desk.
“What’s this about, sir?” Daichi asked upfront.
Ukai pointed at Suga. “Sugawara here is our new chief of Medical. Sugawara, meet our new Director.”
Suga looked at him with surprise clearly written on his face. It was, however, nothing compared to the look on Daichi’s own face.
“Excuse me?” he inquired. “I think I misheard you, sir.”
Ukai’s grin could be described as a shit-eating one. “Oh no, you heard me. Sit your asses down, I’ll explain.”
Daichi let himself drop to the arm chair while Suga made himself comfortable in the one next to him. Ukai watched them both for a moment before sitting on the edge of his desk and handing Daichi a file.
“Pops and I decided that what this place needs more than us breathing down your necks is some actual, hands-on management. As you know, I haven’t spent a day in my life doing field work, whereas you,” he pointed at Daichi, “have both the experience and the skills required to see the shit I miss.”
Daichi stared at him. “But I—”
“Are an exceptional leader, well-liked, fair, and not afraid to speak your mind. You’re the new Director. Of course, Pops will be expecting a report every six months, but that’s no biggie. I’ve read your reports, you got nothing to worry about,” Ukai smirked.
Daichi looked at the file in his hand. It was the official paperwork that confirmed his promotion.
Ukai nodded towards the papers and grabbed a pen. “Just needs your signature, then it’s official.”
Daichi couldn’t help but glance at Suga. The man was observing the situation with a curious smile.
He grabbed the pen and signed the papers. Ukai gave a toothy grin as he took the papers back and tossed them to the desk. “Thank you! I’ll clear out by tomorrow, then you can get set up in here. Alright, can you show Sugawara to Medical, then go check on Iwaizumi’s op in Mission Control? He’s in Tripoli, prepping for an extraction. Could use some advice.”
Daichi stood up and shook Ukai’s hand. “Thank you, sir. Will do.”
Ukai smiled. “No, thank you,” he returned. “Now get the hell outta here.”
Daichi and Suga left the office. After the first corner, Daichi stopped and looked at Suga. “Did that just happen?”
Suga nodded. “Indeed it did, Director,” he confirmed with a grin.
*
A week into his ‘director-ship’, and Daichi began to realize why Ukai had left him a bottle of Scotch in the desk drawer. His phone was ringing almost non-stop, mostly outrageous requests from Tactical and Field operatives.
“No, I don’t care what you need it for, I’m not getting you a flame thrower!” he yelled into the receiver before hanging up. With a deep sigh, he rubbed his temples.
At least he had the most comfortable chair he’d ever sat in.
He was startled from his thoughts by a soft knock on the door frame. When he looked up, he saw Suga’s smile and a small tray the man held on one hand.
“Good morning, Director,” Suga greeted. “May I come in?”
Daichi rolled his eyes with a smile. “I thought I told you to call me Daichi?” he raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to come in.
Suga walked up to his desk and set the tray down, revealing two cups of coffee and a plate of cookies. “I thought I’d swing by and welcome you to your new job,” he explained. “I didn’t know how you take your coffee, so I brought creamer and sugar.”
Daichi shook his head, smiling at the gesture. “Actually I take it black,” he confessed, taking one of the cups.
Suga sighed in relief, immediately dumping the two creamers and two sugar packets he’d brought into his own coffee. “Thank God, I was hoping you would!”
Daichi laughed, shaking his head. “Thank you, this is really thoughtful,” he commented.
“The least I could do after running into you like that,” Suga quipped, taking a sip of his coffee. “Also, I wanted to talk business with you.”
“Ah, so this is bribery,” Daichi took a cookie and leaned back in his chair. “I’m always up for some bribery. What do you need?”
“I was hoping I could ask you about our field agents?” Suga ventured. “I have their files, but it looks like my predecessor wasn’t too hung up on the specifics on their medical histories. Or regular check-ups, for that matter.”
Daichi bit his lip. He knew exactly why the files were incomplete.
Field agents, especially those who ran the most missions, were borderline paranoid about check-ups and doctors in general. They wanted absolutely no drugs, because that could hinder their thoughts during a crisis. Some went to pretty extreme lengths to avoid confrontation with Medical. Iwaizumi, Kuroo, and Bokuto were the worst offenders.
He himself wasn’t too fond of the smell on antiseptic either.
Suga raised a knowing eyebrow.
Daichi rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Uh, yeah. First of all, sorry about that,” he started. “It’s something to do with not wanting anything in your body that could potentially compromise you in the field. Pain killers are good, but some of them can’t be trusted to keep your mind clear.”
Suga nodded. “I get that,” he admitted, putting his cup down to pull a small tablet from his pocket. “I’ll make a note to make sure to change whatever meds we have into ones that affect the brain the least. No opiates, if absolutely possible.”
Daichi smiled. “Secondly, some of them have… history with less than savoury medical practitioners, so there’s a bit of distrust towards doctors in general stemming from things like that.”
Suga stopped tapping the screen and looked up with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s just say that not everyone who wears scrubs or a white coat have taken the Hippocratic Oath and meant it,” Daichi alluded. “The point is, for some of them, doctors are just more people with the power and knowledge to hurt.”
“Okay, first of all, that’s horrible,” Suga pointed out. “Secondly, how come we don’t have a licenced psychiatrist on payroll? Mental health is just as important as physical health.”
Oh, shit. He should’ve seen this coming. Maybe he should’ve made his coffee a Scottish one before this conversation. “Professionally, I have no idea. I’ve only had this job for a week, and before that I had no need to see a therapist. I think we could benefit from having one in our staff,” he replied evenly.
“And your personal opinion?” Suga stressed.
Daichi sighed. “I know these people, Suga. I’ve worked with them for months, years with some of them. I don’t think a single one would want to talk to someone who doesn’t understand. The things they’ve seen and done, what we’ve seen and done,” he amended, “even we can’t make sense of all of it. And if we can’t, then how could someone who wasn’t there?”
They stared each other down in silence for a moment before Suga relented with a sigh. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted. “I’m still new at this, so best not to make any rash decisions. How about this: if you, or any other member of staff wants to talk about anything, my door is open,” he suggested with a confident smile. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
With a smile, Daichi nodded. “Sounds like a good compromise. I promise to look into the therapist-thing once I’ve got my house in order.”
“I expect nothing less,” Suga countered cheerfully, grabbing his tablet again. “Alright, what I wanted to talk about next was weapons acquisition. I did inventory, and noticed that—”
“Wait, back up a minute,” Daichi interrupted him with a raised hand. “Weapons acquisition? What does Medical have to do with weapons acquisition?”
Suga blinked. “Did Ukai-san not brief you? That’s also one of my responsibilities now.”
“No, he did not,” Daichi surrendered and took another cookie. They were really good. “So. What about weapons acquisition?”
“As I was saying,” Suga glared at him, a teasing glint in his eyes as he continued, “while some weapons have been checked out for missions through the proper channels, I noticed that some weapons are missing. Specifically, a—”
“A Glock 17, a Mossberg 590A1 Tactical, a Beretta M9, and a Jericho 941?” Daichi listed.
Suga glanced down at his list, then looked back up at Daichi. “Exactly. Any idea where those guns might be?”
Daichi knew exactly where those guns were. Goddammit. “The Glock is Iwaizumi’s personal property. He's got a license. Ukai made him add it to the inventory for legal purposes, but it’s never in the weapons storage. Iwaizumi keeps it in his rooms, and I’d advise you to let him keep it. You can, however, have the Mossberg. It’s Iwaizumi’s favourite, but he’ll let you store it if you ask, because he knows it's technically company property.”
Suga made a note in his tablet. “And the Beretta and the Jericho?”
“Kuroo likes the Beretta, and Bokuto prefers the Jericho. They’re both more knife-friendly, though, so they’ll probably let you keep their guns in storage, as long as you let them have their knives.”
“What if I wanted to keep all weapons in storage?” Suga asked. “For safety reasons.”
Daichi shrugged. “You can certainly try, but it’d be a war you wouldn't win.”
“Can I ask you something?” Suga made some notes in his tablet before setting it on his lap. “These three. Their names keep popping up everywhere I look. Their files are the most incomplete, or full-on blacked out. Their names are all over the acquisition forms in waepons storage. Why let them have their way like this?”
Daichi wasn’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t exactly favouritism. Fact of the matter was, however unruly or misbehaving the three agents were, they were the best the Agency had. Kuroo and Bokuto had always had each other’s backs, so they wouldn’t need any added ‘personal’ protection. As for Iwaizumi, trust had always been an issue. Thinking about it from an analytical point of view, Daichi had surmised that Iwaizumi only trusted himself 100%. They were friends, had been friends ever since they’d met, but Daichi wasn’t an idiot. He knew something in Iwaizumi kept him from trusting others fully, something that made him keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.
If having a gun under his pillow made him sleep easier, Daichi would allow that every time.
“Because they’re the best we have. I’d much rather compromise and let them have that bit of independence than pull rank and lose their trust.”
He could tell that Suga wasn’t satisfied with the answer he got and was about to ask for elaboration when the phone rang. Daichi gave Suga an apologetic look and picked up.
“Sawamura.”
“Hey, boss.”
“Iwaizumi,” Daichi glanced at Suga, who was busy with his tablet again. “How’s Marrakesh?”
“Hot and uncomfortable. About that package you wanted me to grab, when is it arriving?”
Daichi frowned. “I should’ve been there before you got there. It reached Giancarlo days ago.”
“…Fuck. That son of a… I’ll call you back once I find it.”
Before Daichi could get a word in, Iwaizumi hung up. With a sigh of irritation, Daichi stood up from his comfortable chair and put his earpiece on. “Mission Control, find Giancarlo and relay his position to Iwaizumi.”
Suga stood up as well, clearing their dishes. “Problems?”
Daichi nodded. “An informant’s gone AWOL with a package he was meant to deliver to us. I’m sorry, we’re going to have to continue this later.”
Shaking his head with a smile, Suga lifted the tray and headed out with him. “It’s fine, this takes priority. Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said as they parted ways, Suga heading back to Medical and Daichi for Mission Control.
Once he arrived there, the place was practically chaotic. A junior analyst, whose name Daichi couldn’t remember for the life of him, was frantically scanning security feeds.
“Any sign of him?” Daichi asked as he entered the room.
Heads popped up to glance at him before ducking back down. “No, sir,” the analyst replied, “it’s like he’s vanished!”
“No one vanishes into thin air,” Daichi reminded him, looking up at the screens filling the wall in front of them. “Iwaizumi, anything?”
“His place is clear,” Iwaizumi’s voice rang from speakers. They only had an audio link to him since he was just returning from another op, so all they had were shoddy security footage from around the city.
“We’ll keep combing through the feeds. Any sign where he might’ve gone?”
“Negative, there’s… Wait.”
They heard a crash, followed by scribbling sounds. “I know where he’s going. Permission to take him out?”
Daichi hesitated, listening as Iwaizumi headed out of the building. “Permission granted. Package takes priority.”
“Affirmative. I’ll let you know once I have it.”
The contact was cut. Daichi had a sinking feeling that just wouldn’t go away. “Get eyes on him. Do we have any teams nearby?”
Another analyst whose name he couldn’t get into his head piped up. “There’s a team on standby in Agadir. Do we send them in?”
Daichi nodded. “Yes. Tell them to prepare for immediate extraction once on-site.”
Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes went by before Iwaizumi made contact again.
“I found him. He was selling the package to someone I didn’t get a good look at. Package is still with Giancarlo, I repeat, still with Giancarlo. I’m in pursuit.”
“Proceed with caution,” Daichi replied immediately. The sinking feeling in his gut was still very much there, and it didn’t seem like it was going away any time soon.
“Affirmative. Heading west, outside of the city centre. I’m going to try and—”
The earpiece went dead. Absolute silence fell in the Control room. Daichi looked around in disbelief. “Get him back online,” he ordered.
“I can’t, sir, it’s not on our end!”
“Then get me someone who can!” Daichi yelled, regretting it when the analyst flinched at the volume and scrambled out of his chair.
A hand was raised in the back of the room. “Sir, I can try.”
Daichi pointed at him and to the recently vacated terminal next to where he stood. “Get over here. What’s your name?”
“Akaashi, from Communications, sir,” the analyst replied, hurrying over and taking a seat. He went to work immediately. “His earpiece is not responding, but I can access his cell phone remotely,” he reported after a few minutes of constant typing.
“Do it.”
A few clicks later Akaashi glanced up at the screen. “I rang him to let him know that we’re trying to reach him. Opening the line… now.”
At first, there was nothing but silence. Then a grunt, followed by some shuffling. “Hello?”
“Iwaizumi? Are you there?” Daichi urged, looking at the screen.
“Extraction team’s ETA ten minutes, sir,” came a voice somewhere on his left. Daichi acknowledged him with a nod.
“Iwaizumi?”
A cough, followed by a sharp inhale. The wet, rasping sound did nothing to ease the horrible feeling Daichi had. “Package is gone. Giancarlo (cough) has it.”
“What’s your status?”
“I’m fine (cough).”
Daichi closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Extraction’s almost there. How bad is it?”
“You a smoker, Daichi?”
“Can’t say I am,” Daichi replied, watching the feed from the Extraction team’s helmet cameras. They were almost above the city. “Why do you ask?”
“Me either, but… I think I get it. (cough) Would be better without (cough) the blood, though.”
“I bet it would. You should probably try again once you’re home, if you want to,” he suggested, tapping the table in front of him impatiently as the team landed on a roof near Iwaizumi’s location.
“Don’t think I will. (cough) Tell the team to (cough, cough) go after him. He can’t be that far (cough).”
He sounded like he was choking. Daichi frowned. “I’m not going to—”
“P-prioritize the package.”
“Sir? We have a visual on the package. Do we move in?”
Daichi didn’t hesitate even a fraction.
“Negative. Prioritize retrieving agent Iwaizumi. Get him to a hospital, ASAP.”
“Affirmative. Extraction out.”
*
Daichi sat in his office, filling out an incident report. He glanced at the clock. It was almost one am. With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes and leaned back.
A soft knock came from the door. “Yes?” he called out, waiting for the door to open.
Suga peeked in before stepping in fully. “I saw your light was still on,” he commented, walking over and sitting down. “I heard what happened today.”
“You and everyone else in this building, I’d imagine,” Daichi muttered, letting his hands drop on his lap. “What a shitstorm.”
“You handled your first crisis rather well, from what I hear,” Suga countered. “It must’ve been a tough call, having to choose between a friend and a mission.”
Daichi raised an eyebrow. Suga held up his hands as a sign of surrender. “I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you, I’m just saying it can’t have been easy.”
Daichi searched Suga’s expression for any sign of insincerity, but found none. All he found was understanding and sympathy. For once in his life, he decided to believe that this man had no hidden agenda, that this man sincerely wanted to help those around him.
“Can I tell you something?” Daichi asked, opening the drawer with the Scotch. He’d been intending to save it for a ‘rainy day’, but what the hell. He pulled the bottle out, tilting it and raising an eyebrow in a wordless question.
Suga nodded, both to the spoken and unspoken question. “Of course.”
Daichi put the bottle on the desk and took out two glasses, pouring them both a shot. “I’ve been here for five years now. I’ve had my share of life-or-death situations, where I’ve had to decide whether it’s more important to die or kill for the sake of a successful mission, or if it’s more important to live to fight another day.”
He pushed one of the glasses towards Suga, who accepted it without interruptions.
“It’s different as a team leader,” Daichi continued, rolling the liquid in the glass. “You’re accountable to your superiors. In the end, they decide if you live or die, not you. You’re expendable, for the lack of a better word. You do everything you can for your teammates, and at the end of the day, it’s not you who decides how much a piece of information is worth.”
“But now, I’m the one who has to decide that. I should be able to keep watching the bigger picture, to do what’s necessary to stop bad people from doing what they want. I should be able to know when a sacrifice is needed for ‘the greater good’, and I should be able to make that call,” he shook his head, lifting the glass to his lips.
Suga watched him down the drink before speaking. “I think you made the right call today. I know we’re supposed to be thinking about the mysterious ‘greater good’, but to be perfectly honest? I think that’s bullshit. Letting an agent die today might’ve still cost us that package, whatever it was. I don’t know you that well so forgive me if I’m out of line, but I know you would’ve regretted going after that box for the rest of your life.”
Suga took a sip from his glass, made a face and set it down. “I think you’ll continue to make the right choice because you’re a good man.”
He got up from his seat with a small yawn, rubbing the small of his back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. Lot of stuff to do tomorrow, starting with finding wayward agents and persuading them to let me have their toys.”
He was almost to the door when Daichi called his name. Turning around, he saw the small smile lingering on Daichi’s face.
“How do you know I’m a good man?” Daichi asked. “Like you said, you don’t know me that well.”
Suga shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “For starters, I’m an excellent judge of character. Also, you wouldn’t have said all that if you weren’t. You wouldn’t question yourself, and you certainly wouldn’t have thought twice about making that sacrifice. Good night, Director,” he concluded with a smile, turning on his heels and leaving Daichi to his devices.
Daichi watched the man leave his office. He stared after him a long time, even after the door closed and all he could see was the Roadhouse –poster with him photoshopped as Kurt Russell someone (probably Kuroo, Bokuto, or both) had taped to the back of the door.
He smiled, then finished what was left of Suga’s drink. He hit the speed dial for the young intern who worked the night shift at the front desk and whose name he couldn’t remember.
Goddammit. He should really start memorizing people if he was going to be a proper Director.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get me on the first flight to Morocco. Preferably Marrakesh, Casablanca will also do. I’ll get the return ticket myself.”
“Will do, sir. I’ll have the details and the ticket sent to your e-mail ASAP. Anything else I can do for you?”
“No, that’s—wait, what’s your name?”
“Ennoshita, sir.”
Daichi smiled. “Thank you, Ennoshita. You’re doing a great job. Have a good night.”
“Um, thank you! You too, sir!”
After hanging up, Daichi turned off his computer and closed his office for the night, heading to his rooms to pack.
He’d bring Suga back something nice. Maybe coffee. Or a camel.
…Maybe not a camel.