Archive of Our Own ^beta

Iwaizumi Hajime. That was his name, but most knew him as the Hedgehog. It was better to have a pseudonym to operate under, he did work with a bunch of low lives after all, and at other times, perfectly hardened criminals. He also had a way of getting his name passed around, a coveted man for his skill and no-nonsense attitude. 

That very man was at the moment, frowning at the vault door, looking behind him at the dumbasses he had had to work with to get all the way here. All that was left was to pull the switch, watch the door go kaboom -his favorite sound in this godforsaken world, and walk out of here with fat bags of cash. He sports an uncharacteristic grin on his face, his goggles pulled into place to brace for impact as he clicks the button. As planned, as meticulously calculated, the muffled explosion does its job, the locks rendered useless within the second.

He does his little happy dance, a little shimmy as he walks in past the doors, waiting to hold all that money in his grubby hands when- the alarm sounds.

“OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE- YOU- YOU INCOMPETENT PIECES OF SHIT, YOU POOPY LITTLE WORMS HAD ONE JOB-”, he bellows at the men around him, his smile instantly being replaced by the ugliest scowl in his collection of scowls- he had many different types for many occasions. “I’LL GUT YOU, WHAT ARE YOU GAWKING AT”

Goddammit, it was going so well, he was going to go home and watch some telly, catch comedy hour at 9 o clock, have his supper and go to bed. But no. No, somebody had to ruin it for him, he thinks to himself as he gets cuffed by a police officer. With his hands behind his back, the Hedgehog trudges forward and out of the bank entrance doors, great big fancy things that had practically begged him to come in and rob it. Remind him to scrutinize harder the next time he was putting a team together. This was baby stuff, and yet-

“Ah the Hedgehog- did you search his pockets for minis yet?”, a man speaks to the officer holding him. He had a rich baritone of a voice and was putting away a half eaten bagel as he flips his wallet open to reveal his ID, “Detective-”

Who was this joker . Iwaizumi raises a brow at the man who had just spoken, well dressed for any ordinary policeman, he had a bloody trench coat on. But when his eyes find his face, he recognizes him immediately. He has to try his damndest not to smile. Which wasn’t too hard for the guy, he had a mean poker face that could curdle milk if he wanted.

The officer holding onto the Hedgehog blanches, shaking his head, and remains timidly watching the authoritative figure in front of them.

“You didn’t check his person yet? Are you new to the squad? What do they teach you in the academy these days, fuck- okay just get me Fujiwara will ya-”, the other man says not skipping a beat, his dark, stern gaze tearing the man to pieces. When the officer seems to hesitate to move, the man in the trench-coat practically growls at him, “OFFICER FUJIWARA- go FIND him will you??”

That did it, he was left alone with the ‘detective’ who was beginning to search his person, pinning him to the hood of a police car as he did. Iwaizumi turns around to look at him, feeling his knee press into his back.

“Yo Hedgehog.”
“Yo, what you doing here.”
“Just saying hi..”
“Like hell Daichi.”

Daichi grins a little, but quickly hides the look, scanning their surroundings for any police officers approaching. They all seemed to be busy at the moment, and he sure as hell could look official and capable when he wanted to.

“How fast can you put together a Daddyfucker with the stuff I just slipped you”

Iwaizumi wiggles a little, using his hands expertly to put the wires into place, a smirk growing on his lips as he shrugs his shoulders, “It’s done-”

And with that, Daichi roughly pulls him to his feet. Not strictly necessary, but Iwa wasn’t complaining, he’d come just in the nick of time, and he had a comforting grip. As they walk away quietly, his hands still behind his back and arms held into place, Daichi yells out a warning, telling everyone to duck- the mini bomb at the car suddenly going off, shattering its windows and vomiting metal into the air.

They run into the alleyway, Iwaizumi grinning his pants off and taking the cuffs off of him which had been easily undone by the man standing in front of him.

“Sawamura Daichi, it’s been a long time”
“It has Hedgehog, it really has”

“Before you say anything, if I find out, that you and that bed haired conman friend of yours fucked up this job just so you could make your entrance and save my ass-”

“Come on! Would I do that to you? Me?”

Iwaizumi grumbles a little, walking away from him as fast as he could. He wasn’t going to get suckered into this one. Daichi couldn’t say a thing to convince him, charming or not. He had been wise not to bring Kuroo, he could spot his stink of a smile from miles away.

“Iwa, don’t make me chase you and pin you again, I will”
“For fuck’s sake.. just wanted a nice quiet dinner today, bought myself a mutton to cook too..”

Daichi follows after him at a safe pace, not running, but not trailing too far behind. He considers telling him the money involved, a surefire way to get anyone on board- it had worked for the others so far. But, Hajime was different. Hey, he’d done nothing but odd jobs and small cons all his life, living in a rat’s hole of an apartment and watching his soap operas quietly, minding his own business. He was practically non-existent in the crime world, except for a few veterans who knew and respected his work ethic, like Kuroo and him.

So instead, he walks up to him at the bus stop, mimicking his stance and putting his hands inside his coat pockets. Two men, standing side by side. Nothing suspicious about them.

“Quit it, you can’t give me a number that’ll faze me.”
“Cause you’re loaded-”
“I did one job for that American oil tycoon, one time, got set for life, never looked back.”
“Why didn’t you ever move.. Just leave the country.”

Iwaizumi shrugs his shoulders, refusing to answer. This was his home, his land, why should he move, he thinks. But then, a creeping sensation comes over him, a flash of that brown mop of hair, and the smell of burning breakfast.

“Oikawa’s in..”

Well fuck.

The man shifts his feet uncomfortably, practically hearing his annoying voice in his head. Probably told them about his whereabouts too, the fucking traitor. ‘Iwachan! He’s wasting his time robbing a bank right now! Tell him I need him, that should do it.’

Hajime takes deep breaths, and a does a roll of his eyes to fix their gaze on the other’s which were equally steely and unnervingly confident.

“I hate all of you”
“No you don’t”
“I really do”
“There’s a lovely bed and breakfast for you in Roppongi Hills, all you gotta do is show up to eat it and sleep in it..”
“Using Tooru like that to get to me, some world class skunks you are”
“In my defense, he asked me to use him”

Hajime’s eyes widen at the statement, brows raising infinitely higher, before Daichi puts his hands in front of him in surrender, “Not like that”

“Good.”

Daichi grimaces a little, looking down into his phone to text Kuroo that it was a success.

“..missing my Oprah for you”, Iwaizumi says in a gruff sort of voice, but Daichi could’ve sworn he saw him pout.

“You really ought to update your system, you can record that stuff now you know, invention is the mother of necessity and all that.”
“Necessity is the mother of all invention.”
“Yeah that.”

He ventures to pat Iwa on the shoulder once, then one more time.

“Buy you dinner for your trouble?”
“No American.”
“Japanese, I know a nice homey hole in the road.”
“Alright.”

As they walk to the diner in question, Iwaizumi looks at the other, curiosity getting the better of him, “So, what is it this time, he seems like he’s got too big a stick up his ass to do something quiet like an insurance company fraud-”

Daichi laughs a little as they find a table for two, busying himself with ordering their food before saying anything more. He leans forward over the table so he’s not easily heard, “We’re robbing a casino..”

The Hedgehog looks unfazed, shrugging his lips down in a bit of a frown as he leans back in his chair, “That’s why you need Tooru? Floor man?”

“Yep, he’s complaining about the uniform color at The Emerald.”
“He does hate green..”
“Yeah, maybe talk to him about that? Tell him it looks nice on him..”

Iwaizumi simply looks at him like he’d just asked him to shovel dung for 8 hours,
“But he looks like shit in green.”
“It’s- that’s subjective..”

The food arrives soon after and seems to help the man’s mood, as well as offer much needed comfort to a Daichi who felt a little out of his element here. Half-way through his bowl of ramen, Iwa looks up from his curry-rice and starts down another uncomfortable route of questioning, “Why the Emerald?”

“Well.. it’s one of the three we’re working, and they’re Daishou’s”
“..Is he still not over that?”

Daichi exhales softly, blowing on his broth and slurping up a noodle.

“Forget I ever told you this, but.. no-”
“Jesus, why am I surrounded by infants in this business, you’re all supposed to be cutthroat criminals-”
“Hey now, you didn’t hear it from me okay?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head once, resuming stuffing his face with rice and potato. He waves his chopsticks around a little, brows knitted together hard, “Look as long as he’s thinking straight, and we go way back, I know Kuroo won’t fuck up. He might seem like a child but he knows what he’s doing..”

“Yeah exactly, that’s what matters huh-”
“Is there anything else I ought to know?”
A little pause, as Daichi chews on his pork, then in a matter-of-factly voice he says, “He just got out of prison.”
“Perfect. Icing on the fucking cake”, Iwa grumbles, but appears to be more convinced nevertheless.

“Who’s funding us, they’re not going to suddenly go bankrupt and leave for Scandinavia?”
“No he’s solid, it’s Nekomata-”
“Oh hell, I like him-”

Daichi looks into his phone just as it vibrates, alerting him of a text message from Kuroo. After shooting him a quick reply, he looks up to see a pair of scrutinizing eyes.

“What..”
“Why are you doing it.”
“..for the money.”
The Hedgehog scoffs once, wiping his face with a tissue, but says no more. He thanks Daichi for the meal, and gets up to leave, the address and number of the hotel room in hand.

Kuroo smiles at his phone, proud of Daichi for taking this one. The Hedgehog didn’t much care for Kuroo, he pretty much runs out of the door if he was within a metre radius of him. Weird guy, it’s not like they’d ever had beef before. He ticks off another on their list, looking down to spot his target for tomorrow.

This one was truly the master of disguise, someone Kuroo knew from years of working together. A good friend, a little cranky, but he’d be easier than the Hedgehog for Kuroo to get on board. 

The next morning, at around 11 am, Kuroo finds himself at the Tokyo racecourse in Fuchu city looking fresh in his linen shirt and pale pants. He places a bet on what he assumes is his friend’s favorite horse, simply because of the name and the number, ‘Mountain Runner’ number 3. He makes his way to the seats, spotting the familiar ginger head of hair by the front.

As he approaches him, the man speaks, “I saw you when you were placing bets.”

“Oya well why didn’t you say hi Yaku baby.”
“Don’t baby me, I was doing what you do since before you were born.”
“You’re.. Three months older than me Yaku.”
“And yet you act like a toddler all the time.”

Kuroo sits down on the seat next to him without invitation, thoroughly enjoying this reunion. He puts his shades on and leans back, watching the horses with the other in some silence.

“You just going to sit there and not tell me what the job is?”
“I’ll only tell you if you say yes.”

Yaku Morisuke shifts in his seat, fixing the crease in his floral shirt, and keeps the frown on his face, “I got health problems now Kuroo, I’m telling ya, my back goes out if I try to take a wee in the wrong position.”

“What even is the right position to piss in.”
“It’s an expression.”
“Whose expression.”
“My expression.”

Kuroo folds his arms across his chest, then turns to look at his face. It takes him a few seconds to, but Yaku also turns to look up at him. They exchange a long look that might not mean much to on-lookers, but was as good as telepathic communication for these two. The taller of the two grins, casual and calm as he watches their horse trail behind the others, being overtaken by number 5, then number 6.

Yaku clutches at the betting tickets in his hands, scowling at the sight and watching the giant TV screen confirming what he didn’t want to have confirmed.

“My doctor told me to go easy on the antacids, you know what that means.”
“I don’t know Yaku, what does that mean.”
“It means I stay away from stimulants, like coffee, and tea, and spices and YOU and your stupid jobs.”
“I give you acidity? That’s.. Flattering..”
“No it’s not.”

Kuroo laughs once and pauses before leaning forward and whispering the crucial number into his ear. The number that he knew would change his mind. He pulls back, watching the other man blink once, then look at the tickets in his hand. He looked to be in some kind of daze, already tearing his tickets in half and throwing them into the air. He fishes into his bag for something. Kuroo watches him pop a pill into his mouth and clutch at his stomach.

“Get a new doctor huh, see you in Roppongi-”
“Wait wait hold up- I need answers first”

He was happy to oblige, staying where he was in his seat and smirking at the results. Number 3 had come second last.

“Who are we fucking over for this.. It better not be someone important.”
“No one important-”
“Who then.”
“Daishou Suguru-”
“Oh fuck.”

Kuroo shrugs his shoulders, turning his head to see the man patting his stomach again. He offers him the frozen yoghurt he'd just bought for him outside, it was a hot day and he looked like he needed it.

“Kuroo, are you serious, why aren’t you over it yet, it was a long time ago..”
“Who says it’s about that-”
“Who are you shitting, of course it’s about that.”
“Hey some things are forgivable, and some things are not..”

Yaku groans at the insinuation, knowing full well that Kuroo was referring to the time he had cut off a guy’s unmentionables for crossing him. Kuroo wasn’t as cut-throat as that, and he himself had put those days behind him. Robbing the guy was better than trying anything else, he had to admit.

“That was different, that was war-”
“Who cares, huh, one billion yen”
“SH HHh shush-”, his hand flies up to cup over Kuroo’s mouth as he looks around for any listening years, “I’m on the radar Kuroo-”

The man with the bed head offers a disbelieving glance over his companion’s outfit, dressed for vacation in his flip flops and Kariyushi shirt.

“..I met someone, I ought to put all this behind me..”
“Oh yeah?”, Kuroo smiles warmly, standing up and stepping out of the row of seats. He calls back behind him as he reaches the doors, “Buy him a house, and a big old wedding ring then.”

“Got him~”, Kuroo says in a sing-song lilt into the phone, switching on the hotel TV.

“Is there anything your friends won’t do for money?”
“You’re one to talk, you’re only with me cause I’m making you rich”
“You think I put up with that mouth cause you’re making me rich?”

Kuroo grins at the tone in his voice.
“You coming or what, I’ve already started.”
“Mm.. I like it when you’re proactive.”
“..on Oprah, started on Oprah.”
“Oh-”

Daichi pushes the door in after opening it with his keycard, locking it behind him before slipping out of his shoes, loosens his tie and collapses face first into the bed. The pillows were nice. Shame they were going to rob Daishou blind, he was running a decent joint here.

“So who’s next.”
“Relax will you, we’re on schedule.”
“How goes the nightly reconnaissance, find her yet?”
“Yep, she manages a museum on the third floor. Still gorgeous, spot her from a satellite if you wanted..”

Daichi raises a brow at him, “Have you spoken to her yet casanova?”
“Not yet, I will soon.”
“Stick to the script alright-”

Kuroo grins slyly, but refuses to say another word about it, turning to give Daichi a look that could mean a million different things.
“Cut that out.. It’s late”
“Oh? Getting too old for night caps?”
“Go fuck yourself.”

At that, Kuroo smiles a little sweeter at him, making him laugh and shake his head. 

“Greaseman’s left..”
“Yeah you said uh- Noya?”
“Nishinoya Yuu, performing at Ueno park tomorrow, should be fun, want to go?”
“It’s a date.”

Daichi and Kuroo take their seats, dressed in casual evening wear. They sigh in unison, Kuroo looking up at the moon and then checking his watch, Daichi chewing on a pretzel, and offering another to Kuroo, who refuses. What was taking so long, he had to be some place after this, set some things into motion. It would probably have to wait till tomorrow night then, which was cutting it a little too close to the meeting at Nekomata’s- but oh well.

Kuroo squints at the display of acrobats, who had just taken their positions.

“Which one’s our guy?”
“The little Japanese dude.”

He turns to look at Daichi, who seems to not be aware of all the little Japanese dudes on stage at the moment climbing up and down the ladders and doing handstands- busy crunching on his second pretzel and picking up crumbs. Daichi finally looks up at him and smiles, confident as ever. Wait for it..

As if on cue, one particular little Japanese dude with a crop of yellow hair in the middle of his brunet quiff, flips through the air from one ladder to the next, lowering himself down and flipping back to the other side with the ease of a goddamned monkey.

Kuroo’s impressed, his mouth slightly ajar and eyes glued to the spectacle. He was clearly the star of the show- handstands, walking on all fours on the tightrope, then walking down backwards, swinging down from the rope and back up onto the platform with precision. Not one foot out of place, not one slip of his fingers. He looked like he could fly, he was small enough to fit into crawl spaces. 

“We found our greaseman-”
“We found our greaseman!” Daichi grins and claps with the audience, Kuroo following suit soon after.

After the show ends, the two of them approach the man as the troupe was packing up. The young man grins at them and waves his hand, “I don’t do autographs boys! You’ll just have to come again if you want to see the amazing YUU, did you see my Rolling Thunder?”

“Oh we did! Rolling Thunder, very-”
“Like a tempest.”
“Hurricane- Rolling Hurricane.”

Nishinoya Yuu looks easily swayed, holding onto his torso and bellowing with happy laughter, a redness on his cheeks, “You’re too kind!”

“Well, we have a.. Job offer for you Yuu”, Daichi frowns as he says it, “Yuu.. You are just the guy we’re looking for.” Kuroo joins in with a reverent shake of his head, “Yeah we were sitting there, him and me, just thinking, if anyone can do it, YUU can- y'know? It’s rare to just know something like that.” “Right right, you see Yuu, you just know Yuu's the guy you need.”

Nishinoya looks just a tad confused, but interested still, waiting for more information before Daichi leans closer to slip a piece of paper into his hand with the number written on it. He pulls back, holding a lazy smile on his face while Noya unfolds the paper. His eyes widen considerably, before meeting both Kuroo’s and Daichi’s. No, they were not joking.

This time Kuroo leans in to whisper into his ear, and what he says doesn’t seem to bother the guy. He shakes his hand, and then Daichi’s, and nods as he’s given the address to the meeting place.

“Nice guy.”
“Real nice guy.”
“Drinks?”
“On you-”

Daichi and Kuroo pop over to a pub next to the park to celebrate, as is their custom. It was getting late, and Kuroo sighs at his watch.

“You can go tomorrow.. She’ll be there.”
“I know but.. yeah I know.”

He knew how much Kuroo disliked having to change his plans, but he was equally good at improvising when things went to shit, Daichi wasn’t worried. He orders his bourbon and cheeseburger, and fries, and gherkin on the side- while Kuroo gets his whiskey sour.

After they’ve had about three glasses each, Daichi finds himself mumbling to the bartender to change the channel, saying to him that Oprah was on, didn’t he know? The uncultured swines. He lays on the bar, arms caging himself in, eyelids growing heavier but determined to watch all those people on TV get a custom made perfume, how did they even do that, amazing.

“We’re done right.. We got ten.. That’s a good round number”, Kuroo slurs a little, but he’s still lucid, his gaze alternating between the little screen and Daichi’s face. But he gets nothing.

“What, you think we need one more?”

Daichi tries not to smirk inside his bicep.

“You think we need one more." 

There's another long pause, “Alright we’ll get one more”, Kuroo says with a sigh, having had that entire conversation with himself, he had decided they need one more. But, the question was who, they had a solid enough team at this point, who were they missing..

“..You know that kid.. That kid you like so much, said he has potential.”
“..he’s at college, I don’t want to, I mean.”
“Show him the big guns, I hear he does cheap pickpocket tricks on the subway.”

Kuroo turns to look at him with stark surprise painted all over his face, an open book at most times, the idiot. Daichi shrugs, his body hunched over the bar, his eyes meeting his golden gaze, “Hey he learnt from the best.” “That he did..”

Never missing a chance to talk himself up, Daichi notes with a miniscule amount of fondness, before sitting up and asking for the check. He polishes off his plate of fries, insists on paying this time despite what he’d said earlier, and pats Kuroo on his shoulder. “You got this, ambush him, you think he remembers you?” “Maybe.”

Daichi shrugs,“Quit worrying, his dad likes you, his brother likes you, goddamn if he had a girlfriend, she would like you too.”
“I’m a likeable guy.”
“So well mannered.”
“Except when you tell me not to be.”
“Consent is sexy.”