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Chapter Text

From the other side of the door, Akane could sense his presence. She entered anyway, the cool air of her apartment washing over her face. She maintained the impeccable holo overlaying her crimson bodysuit, but dropped the half mask.

His pointed mask was also absent, the laceration on his cheek was encircled by a deepening bruise. The dark armor-like quality of his costume was at least intact, better than before. He gave a strange smile. “Lady Justice.”

“Please, don’t. Kougami-san, what happened?” She turned away, retrieving her medical kit. If she were a telekinetic, it’d be much easier to summon, especially with how often they met like this.

“A scuffle for information.” He winced when she pressed the antiseptic wipe to his skin.

“And did you find what you needed?” She immediately regretted the sharpness in her voice. It had been a lengthy day, with additional meetings and public events that Sybil’s favored leader of elite psionics could not avoid. And it was always complicated with Kougami; she knew her own mind would be an emotional storm to any other telepath.

“Akira’s gone missing.”

She froze. “Kei’s older brother?” The Russian born brothers had the same familial ability of psychic shields, but while Kei was one of her new Bureau colleagues, Akira walked the vigilante path, just like Kougami had decided six years ago.

He nodded, grimacing now. “No trace at all, not even a scrap of fabric I could use for detection.”

“Was he still following the new lead?” She asked carefully. Technically, she shouldn’t have been aware of his group’s extrajudicial pursuit of the Peacebreakers. However, they were past the point of secrets between them.

“Yeah, he was. The rest of us split to cover more ground, but I ran into two of the targets. They got away, but they mentioned someone called the General. Have you heard of them before?”

“Never. Then again, the last knowledge of the Peacebreakers on my end was from Tibet, and in a report. I’ve been solely occupied with domestic affairs for a while.”

A flicker of understanding crossed his expression, and then, his callused fingers caught her chin. “When was your last break?”

Akane swallowed hard, her memory failing at his touch. She was glad his psychometry didn’t extend to people, or his mind would be flooded with the reminiscence of a small humid room in Shambala.

The sounds occurred simultaneously. The trill of her wrist alert, and the vibration of his alarm. A nearby disturbance, so they’d be working together for the moment. Now, the storm cleared to excitement.

“It’ll have to wait. Let’s go.” She hastily said, stepping to her balcony. She noticed the lock was intact and frowned as she prepared the flight mode on her boots. The evening wind carried her words. “Isn’t this where you came from?”

“No.” He had the gall to smirk and tossed a shocking statement before he rappelled off the ledge. “I still have the spare key you gave me last time.”

They perched on the roof of the invaded high-rise building. From the street surveillance footage, the trio of disrupters were climbing the floors with clear intent. As Kougami secured his grappling hook, he casually inquired. “Fifteen minutes until the Dominators arrive?”

“Ten. We can use delivery drones now.”

“Now, I’m the one with outdated info.” He meant it as a joke, but she still felt the sore twinge of his departure. “In the meantime, I’ll go first.”

Akane opened the telepathic bond between them. They had done this so often, that sharing their thoughts wasn’t overwhelming at all. Be careful.

Same to you. With the hiss of the tensile wire unraveling, he leapt to break in.

She counted the seconds before taking a deep breath and slowly descended into the bright city. Flashing news banners, advertisements for mental care, the small red sirens drawing closer. The people, bustling and conducting their peaceful lives. And despite everything she’d experienced since she first joined the Bureau, her resolve to protect them had never faltered.

Lady Justice soared into a combat scene.

Smoke obscured the floor, one person knocked unconscious. Kougami was trading brutal, efficient blows with a muscular man; the other one, struggling to get up from a broken table, unsheathed a dagger. Akane started with a psychic tap, a self-defensive maneuver that was typically enough to bring a person to the ground. However, he seemed unaffected, mechanically standing and raising his arm. Left without recourse, she broke the wall and peered in his thoughts.

Pure static.

She reeled back and shot a message to Kougami. They’re brainwashed.

Her usual methods of telepathic communication and persuasion would not work. Unless she found the higher psionic in control, she was stuck until the Dominator arrived to measure Crime Coefficient. She pushed the limits of her telepathic range, but her strength was in intensity, not distance.

Explains their complete silence. He whirled, the dagger wielder sinking his blade into his comrade’s shoulder. He cracked their heads together, the sound nauseating, and Akane glimpsed blood pouring down their faces as they went down.

Abruptly, she received comms from Karanomori and Hinakawa. The drone was on its way, and Arata was the closest, but was she alright? She refrained from mentioning Kougami, though she could sense his amusement through the bond. He picked up the dagger with a gloved hand and paused.

Akane!

She startled, but he was already grabbing her waist and sprinting to their entry point. They plummeted, the urban lights blurring, before the explosion blew out the glass walls. Her boots activated, operating at full power to carry them through the air. Her arms tightened around him, her face flush against his mask.

When they landed in an empty alleyway, they disentangled and she put on a brave face. “That was close. Thank you.”

He cleared his throat, his gaze singularly on her eyes. “You don’t need to thank me. As many times as you need me, I’ll be there.”

Flustered, her gaze fell to the dagger, secured in his belt. “Does that belong to Akira?”

“It seems familiar, but I’ll examine it. Later.” He amended, with the sound of approaching sirens. The Bureau would arrive in minutes, and he retreated into the darkness, Lone Wolf once more.

“Yes.” She reluctantly shuffled backwards, her heart aching. “I’ll catch you next time.”

A short laugh escaped him, as his grappling hook clicked in an overhead spot, and his voice faded. “Looking forward to it.”

Akane straightened, walking to the illuminated street. They’d chosen different methods, but as long as they both desired to protect this city, they’d meet again.

Chapter Text

Kougami had taken shelter in one of his hideaways that night. The dim lighting was enough to ice his ribs and gulp a bottle of water, before he returned to the task at hand.

Fortunately, the dagger had only been out of its true owner’s possession for a day. Kougami grasped the hilt, sifting through the residual information. The transfer had not been freely done; he sensed Akira’s surprise as he was punched in the gut. Before that, though…it was fragmented. The metal remembered superficial scratches through fabric and flesh. However, it wasn’t accompanied by the typical emotions of fear or rage, but a pervasive unease. Akira had not been a willing participant in these fights.

The blankness was what concerned Kougami. Usually, his psychometry revealed a continuous memory trail, unless the object’s owner had been drugged or incapacitated. Akira did have lucid episodes, yet he was struggling to keep himself together. Like he wasn’t fully in control. And that led to the question: who could control someone with a psychic shield?

He went further back, trying to identify details. Dark corridors, a cracked mirror, water and terror. A green dome, with a surge of peace and longing, a balm for homesickness.

Kougami sheathed the dagger. At least, he knew where to go next.

The ruined cathedral was a remnant of a forgotten era, when Japan first embarked on world affairs. Kougami descended through the bell tower, walking silently past the wooden pews. Then, a familiar presence enveloped his mind.

Kougami-san? Are you nearby?

He couldn’t suppress a relieved smile. Yeah, I’m at the Holy Resurrection Cathedral.

I was heading over there, see you soon. Akane was true to her word, as always, and arrived momentarily. Her outfit had changed to a dark red, better suited for night camouflage. Before he could speak, she hurriedly related. “I was informed about this location from Arata and Kei, since it’s a Russian Orthodox church. They’ll be here, so I’ll tell you quickly. The men had neural implants which isn’t unusual, but theirs had been rewired. Kougami-san, the code was developed by the General.”

He grimaced. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Hinakawa-kun’s searching the database, and for similar methods.”

“So, it wasn’t a psionic, but a remote operator? That would explain Akira’s behavior.” He went on to explain. “Still, it’s unclear where he is now.”

She wondered aloud. “He must have infiltrated the Peacebreakers, in order to get an implant. Was his cover blown?”

“If so, then he’s dead.”

“He isn’t dead!” A voice interrupted, and over Akane’s head, two figures burst through the heavy green door.

Kougami recognized them. “Ah, your rookies.”

Akane sighed, turning to them both. “It’s alright. He’s trying to find Akira too.”

“I can tell!” The shorter boy, Arata, grinned. “Don’t worry, Kei, he looks like that, but he’s worried on the inside.” Great, an empath. The last psionic type he needed when he was around Akane.

Kei hadn’t relaxed, his eyes stubbornly fixed on Kougami as he reiterated. “My brother is alive. My wife is a precog and she had a vision of him kneeling, with fireworks in the background.”

“The Lunar New Year celebration.” Less than forty-eight hours away. “We’ll have to meet him, wherever he is.”

“We’ve determined the location already.” Akane answered. “We’re setting a trap.”

“And getting ready for a psionic battle. I’ll call Frederica.” Her ability was specialized for conflict, siphoning the excess psychic energy and using it to augment her own skills.

“Oh. Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m sending you the coordinates. No guns, it’s not far from the Bureau headquarters.” She fiddled with her comm, leaving Kougami puzzled. He happened to glance at Arata, who was looking between them.

“Arata. You shouldn’t pry.” Kei said, in a matter-of-fact way.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just curious.” He gave an amiable smile, which Kougami didn’t trust.

“I run, she tries to arrest me.” He flatly informed, causing Akane to splutter.

“Actually, it was more about the past, since you both-” He seemed to hold back, now that they were staring at him. “Work well together…?”

“Arata!” Kei scolded. “Of course, they used to be partners.”

“For a few months, when Tsunemori-san was new like us. But it must have been memorable, there’s a lot of emotions just at the surface.”

Damn, he hated empaths.

Akane had a neutral expression, which was unreadable even to him. When they initially met, he thought she was an open book, a weakness for a telepath. Then, she seized control, holding him in a powerful psionic grip as she fired the Dominator for the first time. She had only become stronger since then, and while he partly missed how easily she smiled and pouted, he was incredibly pleased that she earned the right to lead the Bureau. But the city’s foremost superhero could not associate with any vigilante, beyond temporary alliances for public safety. Now, every time they met, she was a growing mystery.

An alert sounded from the other three’s wrist devices, and he observed the ripple of surprise on the boys’ faces. Akane’s eyes imperceptibly widened. “Ginoza-san, Sugo-san, and Mika have detected Akira. He’s on the move, underground.”

“Let’s go.” Kei was out like a bolt, Arata following suit.

Kougami could determine what had happened; Ginoza probably used his ability to review the past in a location that Akira had visited, bringing Sugo’s psychic bolts and Mika’s aura generation for protection. Luck was on their side for now, if they were able to regain the trail. And with this many people, there was no need for him to give chase too.

Akane told him. “Even if we capture him, the plan will remain. But that’s what I’m worried about, because it means something will go wrong.”

“Akira’s life isn’t guaranteed by the vision either. Tell me, if you’re in trouble.”

“Yes, I will.” She did smile but added. “Kougami-san? If you break the law, I’ll have to come after you.”

He watched her go, feeling mildly amused at the warning. He sent messages to Frederica and Saiga, then hesitated before copying the same to Shindo Atsushi with an addendum.

What mission did you send Akira on?

The government man replied faster than expected, and to his dismay, he realized how complicated the situation truly was. His instinct was to let Akane know, and his fingers hovered over his comm. Then, he closed it. He was no longer bound by the rule of law, and this development could possibly need methods the Bureau could not use.

So, he moved his weary body. His next destination was a quiet residence, where Shindo was waiting.

Chapter Text

Akane still remembered when she last saw the Bloodhound. He had ripped off his mask, frustrated that the Ghost, the elusive Makishima, was sowing chaos unchecked. She held the elevator door, utilizing the best of her cultivated persuasion. She wasn’t so eloquent then, her words clumsy but earnest enough.

“Kougami-san, will you always be a hero?”

“Ah.” But he had averted his gaze.

The attack was timed with the celebration’s climax. Akira had been taken into custody only an hour before, and although Kei was nearly brought to tears and Arata beamed, the man’s blank expression had concerned the rest of them. He was kept under close watch, or so they thought, when a certain man offered to guard his cell. The omniglot Yabuki was an admin now, but he had worked overseas in the past. It explained the footage of his pistol shot on Akira, who responded in kind with a hidden blade.

Headquarters was locked down too late to prevent Akira’s escape, or for anyone to resuscitate Yabuki. Emergency use of Dominators was granted to the Bureau combat division. Akane sternly delivered the orders. “We capture Akira Ignatov alive. This is a priority.”

They moved up the floors, Ginoza leading the way. Some of the shortcuts that had been used were sealed off, and as he forced them onto slight detours, he warned. “The implant has to be removed from Akira, or he’ll be judged as he is now.”

“I agree. Karanomori-san, did the scan identify where it is?”

“Oh, you’re not going to like this.” Through the comm’s display screen, she made a construct, lighting up the temporal lobe. Behind her, Hinakawa frantically shook his head.

It wasn’t promising, and they reached the door to the roof just as the fireworks boomed. They were met with a hail of bullets from brainwashed thralls. Mika’s aura bloomed to shield the group, but her power had a finite limit against gunfire. Sugo lobbied psychic bolts in retaliation, and Kunizuka rolled her sound grenades, the concussive blasts stunning some of the enemies.

Akane took aim with the Dominator. Low Crime Coefficients, as expected. Until there was a lull in the assault, close combat wasn’t possible. And to her disbelief, time was up. A higher-ranking combatant cracked a rifle end against Akira. He was brought to his knees, the gun pointed at his head.

Electricity sparked, disassembling the artillery. Two figures rose from the darkness, illuminated by a brilliant pyrotechnic flare. While the man in black had controlled strikes perfectly familiar to Akane, the woman in olive green became stronger and faster with each opponent taken down.

Akane and the others joined the fray. The Dominators had remained intact, powered by psychic energy. And when she heard the call for a little help, it only confirmed her notion of who else was present. Saiga was pulled up by his dangling rope, and the technopath pressed his fingers to Akira’s bloodied hairline, disabling the implant.

When the last had fallen to a kick from Ginoza and the final chip was rendered inert by Saiga, the two factions warily regarded each other. Mika seethed. “What are you doing here, you mercenaries?”

Hanashiro shrugged, unfazed. “We’ve been tasked with bringing this youngster back. A classified assignment, I’m sure you understand.”

“Even if he wasn’t in control, he’s responsible for a death.” Sugo replied.

“And there’ll be countless more, if we don’t leave with him.” Saiga regretfully said. Was that why he had come out of retirement?

Akane stepped forward. “No one is so valuable that they cannot answer to the law.”

However, Kougami blocked her path. He loomed over her, his eyes glimmering under the mask. Hazily, she wondered; if she opened their bond now, what thoughts would flood in? Barely above a whisper, he reminded her. “Not while Sybil exists.”

Her breath caught. And in that second of hesitation, they made their move.

“Take care, Kei.” Akira offered a bitter grin, then jumped off the building. Hanashiro followed, Saiga unceremoniously dragged along.

Kei futilely sprinted after, Arata grabbing his waist. Mika, burning like a sunset, gave a cry and lassoed both of them. “No, you don’t!”

The city lights wavered, Hanashiro’s blond hair fluttering as she climbed into an invisible stealth aircraft. Saiga was glimpsed within, opening a medical kit for a pained Akira. Then, who was the pilot?

Kougami launched his grappling hook, and despite the looks that he received from her and Ginoza, he was stoic. “The General is out there. It’s not the end.” Then, he flew through the air, to another escape. Akane watched him disappear, unsatisfied as ever.

“He always does this.” Ginoza protested. “Damn him, he hasn’t changed and it’ll be the same story all over.”

“Maybe. But until the next time…” She echoed. Holding her head high, she turned to face her Bureau, the city stretching behind them. “Our work hasn’t finished yet. First, let’s take these people into custody. Next, determine who’s still trapped in lockdown…”

Akane’s hands nervously smoothed over her skirt, the girlish design of her cherry-colored outfit. She’d have to get used to it, along with the name of Lady Justice. The Bureau had welcomed her into their ranks, and she hoped she wouldn’t disappoint them. Although the group was treated with equal measures of subdued respect and trepidation, she was ecstatic to learn of her acceptance.

Her first day was disastrous, witnessing a psionic fight up close. Crackling energy, words spat like curses, effort and strain to win a battle of the minds. And then, she succumbed to a telepath’s classic temptation, controlling the behavior of someone else. She was certain the Bloodhound would reprimand her, his handsome face severe and foreboding. But instead, Kougami had smiled. He said he had faith in her.

From that moment on, Akane knew she wouldn’t regret being a hero.

Chapter Text

“Treat me to something.”

Little did Kougami know, that was only the beginning. They did need to catch up, and for her to acclimate to the real world after being a prisoner for so long. So, when Akane messaged about a new café or a weekly special, he never hesitated to take her out.

Then, it became a regular occurrence to spend lunch together, sometimes breakfast if they had both worked overnight. Tempura vegetables and sushi rolls. Red bean and black sesame buns, with hot tea and cold milk. Sandwiches and salads. Fragrant pastries and toasted bread slathered in a variety of spreads. Bowls of noodles, sautés, and curries. Her spice tolerance had fallen, she lamented. The same couldn’t be said for holding her liquor.

Her birthday had been an over-the-top celebration with Unit 1 and SAD; she drank both sides under the table, including her new boss, which Kougami was smug about despite his own raging hangover. On the other hand, his was a more subdued affair, with just her and his mom. Akane had made the little chocolate cake from scratch, and he was embarrassed as he blew out the single candle, ignoring Mama’s pointed stare.

Finally, as the weather chilled and their outings were extending to dinners, he folded his arms and asked her point blank. “What is this?”

“It’s a burger with a fried egg on top. You know, to resemble the moon.” She said, like he was the pitiful village idiot.

“No, I meant-” He gestured to their surroundings. They were on a quiet private balcony for the seasonal moon viewing, and maple leaves lazily drifted around them. “This scene. It’s a little…” He stopped short of using the word ‘intimate’.

“What do you think, Kougami-san?” A drop of sauce landed on the side of her thumb, and she lapped it up with her tongue. He stared a little too long at that. “If you don’t like it…”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not complaining. But what we’re doing, eating and talking and sightseeing if we’re not at work…” And now that he said it out loud, it struck. He really was the pitiful village idiot. What the hell was wrong with him? They’d been having dates, multiple dates, since she was released. The words flew as an accusation. “It’s a relationship, isn’t it?”

She blinked. “I’m shocked. I didn’t expect you to be the type to want labels.”

“And I didn’t expect you to not want them.” He retorted.

“Oh, I do. I was just waiting for you. I didn’t want to force anything.”

That was just like her. “…How long have you thought about this?”

“Um, well.” Nervousness flickered in her expression; he’d last seen it eight years ago. “Every now and then. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t in love with you when we met, or at least, I didn’t call it that. I was young and impressionable, then I was frustrated and resigned. But it’s always been you.”

“Funny, I didn’t use the word ‘love’.”

An incandescent blush rose in her face. She set down her food in indignation. “Kougami-san, I’ll be leaving first. Get the dango, I heard they’re good.” She stood but he caught her wrist.

He brought her thumb into his mouth, relishing the sweet-salty taste of her skin, and grinned as she yelped. “Dango can’t compare.”

“You’re horrible.” Her voice was already weakening.

He reverted to seriousness, firmly clasping her fingers. “I’m not a good man, and I won’t pretend around you. But for me, it’s always been you too.”

Gingerly, she sat down, and then, she gave a short laugh. “What a mutual confession that was! It only took six months.”

“Hope it was worth the wait.” He dryly said. “After you fooled me into being your boyfriend.”

“Oh, is that what you want me to call you? Shinya-san?”

A shiver ran to the base of his spine. “Whatever you want, as long as it’s not publicly humiliating.”

Her smile widened. “I expected as much. Pet names and love declarations wouldn’t be like you.”

“My preference has always been actions over words.” And when she blushed deeper, he laughed. Yeah, they were taking the dango to go.

Chapter Text

Ginoza noticed almost immediately. Despite the rubble and debris, he followed the tunnel that Kougami had taken, down in the depths of the frozen city. When he heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot, his steady pace quickened to a run. He had raised his weapon, ready to fire, when his name was called. Nothing relieved him more than seeing the familiar outline of Kougami’s hair, and the realization a second later that he was carrying Tsunemori. Her face was drawn and pale, as he stepped out of the shadows.

And right there, reflected in the moonlight, were a pair of handcuffs locking their wrists together.

The three of them huddled under a stone structure, passable shelter from the bitter wind and whirling snow. For a while, Ginoza didn’t speak. He drafted the words over and over in his head, none of the nascent questions adequate enough.

What happened with the General, Tsunemori?

Kougami, will you stop looming over her like that?

Why are you still cuffed to each other…?

He really couldn’t think of a plausible explanation for the last. As he continued in circuitous thoughts, Hanashiro returned.

“I called the retrieval team. They’ll be here in two minutes.” Her gaze landed on Ginoza, then the other two. Her eyes widened a fraction, and Ginoza belatedly recognized how their position looked.

Instead of opposite sides, they were joined by their left wrists; the metal was obscured between their bodies, but Tsunemori was basically sitting across Kougami’s legs. An emergency tourniquet had stopped the blood loss, but she was exhausted and barely keeping her head upright. Kougami shook her on occasion, and his scowl was fixed on.

“Thank you, Hanashiro-san.” Tsunemori murmured. “What about the-?”

“Worry about it later.” Kougami urged. “Hang on, not that much longer.”

“Mm.”

Hanashiro provided a flimsy excuse to trudge back to the designated landing point, not looking back. Ginoza felt a bit of the old ache return, the memory of his longtime friend and co-inspector both accelerating on a separate path from his. He’d witnessed enough of Tsunemori’s pensive expressions; on the boat ride here, he was surprised to see the same stare on Kougami’s face. Now, his suspicion was only confirmed.

Of course, it had to be their left hands.

At last, he said. “Tsunemori, I’m assuming you have the key to the handcuffs?”

She nodded. “I do.”

Ginoza exhaled. “And Kougami? If you ever hurt her, you’ll answer to me too.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“So, we’ll leave it at that.” Perhaps, it was irrational to encourage them, but that was friendship after all. He spent the last remaining moments pretending to ignore them, as he formulated a message confirming to Shimotsuki that they were safe and her precious weapon was in one piece.

Signal had recovered, because the reply was swift. I’ll believe it when I see you in person. Our side will guarantee there won’t be any delays.

He cracked a smile. Then, the clouds cleared, and Hanashiro waved to them. Kougami perfunctorily lifted Tsunemori again and Ginoza matched his stride, as they boarded the aircraft bound for home.

Chapter Text

Akane’s fingers tightened in Kougami’s shirt, the tip of her tongue sliding against his. This time, she was the one who was late, the consequence of cumulative overtime minutes. He had pulled her into their home, barely giving her the opportunity to slide out of her skirt and shoes, before grabbing her hips and pinning her to the wall. Her head fell back, his mouth following hers. After the day’s stress, she didn’t want to think, and he was very good with his hands. That thought snapped when she heard the awful familiar sound.

The tearing of lace.

She broke off the heated kiss, protesting. “You did it again!”

His shrug was unapologetic. “My bad.”

“It’s the fifth time, and I just got this pair!” She futilely held the pale yellow edges together. Self-restraint was never his strong suit, but not even for two seconds?

“Don’t blame the quality on me. I prefer you out of them anyway.” And then, per usual, he coaxed forgiveness out of her.

Later, Akane laid in bed, mulling over how she could win this battle. Sure, her opponent’s biceps looked fantastic in the moment of destruction, but at this rate, her drawers would be emptied.

The style didn’t matter at all, as she quickly realized when garters failed against his relentlessness. Bra hooks were like pull tabs to him. When she attempted to trick him with a front close, it was even worse, because he ripped both sides.

“I’ll buy you more.” Kougami offered, once they caught their breath.

“It’s the principle of it. I have my favorites too, they’re irreplaceable.” She grumbled in return, burrowing deeper into their cuddle.

Now, she resorted to keeping some in storage, but it was with a twinge of regret. She liked how his eyes lit up in recognition when she wore the burgundy set from their first time, or the powder blue from a hasty quickie in a place they definitely shouldn’t have been. And she liked feeling confident, how mere white lace could make her feel desirable.

To his credit, it wasn’t all the time. If she was aiming for seduction and removing her lingerie herself, his dilated pupils showed how much he enjoyed it. But if they were playing rough or she let down her guard, she’d be down to her bare skin in an instant.

She had tried to enact revenge, purposefully ripping off his buttons. It only goaded him, because he smirked and would have left in the morning with his shirt half open, if it weren’t for her own humiliation. Wouldn’t that be a sight at work, all of the love bites and scratches on display? The undeniable proof that he was hers?

A change in tactics was needed, so she began to expand her search. She was led down a series of pages, her glazed vision skimming over the raunchy pieces. Then, her attention caught upon one. She straightened and automatically grinned.

Oh, yes. This was something he couldn’t rip apart.

Chapter Text

Kougami was starting to get annoyed by the collar.

To be fair, he willingly put it on, to Akane’s delight. He had turned his head, ignoring the sudden heat in his ears. “There, so how long do I have to wear it?”

“Just until tonight.” She tugged at the steel ring hanging above his clavicle, and he was caught off guard, leaning towards her. “Oh, wow. It’s perfect.”

The leather tightened across the nape of his neck, not painful yet. “Will I get a reward for being patient?”

“Hmm, if you behave.” Then, she released him with a pat on the head and marched off.

He had buttoned all the way up at work, which drew some confused stares. Ginoza had given him a flat look, obviously thinking he was hiding a hickey, while Sugo politely didn’t mention it. And there wasn’t any fieldwork to accomplish, so they were stuck at the office. He tried not to think about the lingering warmth of Akane’s touch on his hair, or the collar’s scrape against his skin.

Throughout the day, it was severely tempting to take it off, for a minute or two. But then, he remembered her words and grudgingly kept typing. He jumped to his feet when they finally had an alert. The outcome wasn’t particularly exciting, a bureaucrat was discovered to have illegal dealings in the Pacific region, but it made the time pass faster.

He arrived home just as the moon climbed over the roof, and briskly walked inside. She wasn’t in the hallway, or at the dining table. Frowning, he stood in the middle of the living room. “Akane-” He was stopped short by a light tap on his elbow. He reached for it, spinning around, only for his mouth to go dry.

Long black gloves covered her hands, which gripped a short riding crop. Synthetic ties on either side of her neck held up her top, lifting yet barely covering her breasts. The very short miniskirt matched the entire ensemble, the slits offering even more skin. Her red lips curved into a smile. “Welcome back.”

He swallowed. “Hey. Worth the wait, I’ll say.” He stretched his fingers out, and was immediately swatted on his forearm, enough to sting. “The hell?!”

“Take off your shirt first.” She raised her eyebrows.

The corner of his mouth twitched. Oh, so this was the game they were playing. He acquiesced, throwing the gray cloth behind the couch, and shoved his thumbs into his belt loops. “Anything else?”

“That’ll do for now.” The end of the crop flicked under his chin, as she walked around him. “So, you did keep the collar on all day. Interesting. That means you can show some self-restraint.”

The building lust was tampered by a prickle of foreboding. “Uh…”

“Kneel down. Hold your hands behind your back.”

At the sternness in her voice, he knew he had to obey. He dropped to the floor, looking up at her. Damn, even at this angle, she was breathtaking. “Am I getting punished for ruining your lacy things?”

“Do you think you need to be punished?” She retorted, but with a playful note.

He bent his head closer, hovering over her exposed legs. “You’re the one holding a riding crop. Unless, we’ll cut straight to the riding part…!”

She struck him on the shoulder. It was a little firmer than before, the pain transforming at the soothing touch of her fingers, to liquid warmth that shot to his cock. “That was one. Can you handle more?”

“…Fine. Four more.” A blow for each destroyed pair of panties, he realized.

“Right answer! So, you can choose where next.”

“My back.”

“Alright then. You can count them, if you want to.” Happily, she took position behind him.

Anticipation was always worse, so he immediately started. The second was on his upper right, the third on the same side but above his waistband. The reaction was similar to the first, yet intensifying each time. He was almost worried that the call for the fourth was a little slurry, and the fifth on his lower left was delivered faster than he expected, his voice louder than he meant.

Akane let go earlier, returning in front of him. Concern touched her expression, the mask slipping. “Are you okay?”

He huffed. He was definitely hard, straining and leaking in his boxers. “Yeah, you can tell I am. What about you? Soaked these panties yet?”

An angry blush flooded her face. “Well, you’re in luck, because I don’t have any.”

His ears roared. “Oh?” He started to rise, but was stopped by her thumb and index finger, pulling the collar.

“I didn’t say you could get up. And since you said that, keep your hands to yourself.” She stood over him and pulled up the hem of the miniskirt.

She was completely bare, her skin smooth. He dove right in, and her free hand tangled in his hair. In response, he tested her with his tongue, licking and laving. He was aware he was grinding futilely in his pants, but he’d damn hold out, to hold onto that remaining shred of dignity.

It didn’t take long before she came with a muffled cry, and he grinned as he thoroughly cleaned her up. Shakily, she indicated she was too sensitive, and he smirked at her dazed face. “Anything else I can do to prove I’m good?”

“Stop destroying my underwear. Can you promise me?”

He pressed a kiss into her trembling thigh. “Yeah. I’ll do my best.”

And then, she pushed him onto his back, undoing his pants just enough to release his aching cock. The sore spots on his muscles ignited but he didn’t care. She lowered herself with a hitched breath, and he clenched his teeth at how lush she felt. When she squeezed instinctively, his mind went blank. He took her hands, allowing her to steady herself, and brought them to a rapid pace. This time was urgent and hasty, but absolutely perfect for what they’d done. He choked out her name in awe, the collar rubbing into the base of his throat as he came.

Afterwards, she remembered to take it off, placing the leather band near the abandoned crop before joining him on the floor. “Did you mean it?”

“I think I learned my lesson, so yeah.”

She pouted. “If I knew this is how to persuade you, I’d have tried it earlier. Is your back really okay?”

He smiled, planted a kiss on her forehead, and helped her up. “You can find out in the shower.”

The night wasn’t over yet.