Chapter Text
As far as Tendou Satori can remember, the Way of the Sage Cult worships a messiah. However, he is not sure if that meant they had sacred statues to go along with it. Like religion, cults have different practices. Some religion may practice worshiping statues made upon the image and likeness of gods, while others would find this heretical.
He has seen a bit of his father’s old notes. But when he tried to look into it out of curiosity, a lot of the articles published were sanitized.
‘Oh wow. Yamagata has a big dick, doesn’t he? It’s gotta be girthy to imprint like that.’
Tendou distractedly stares at Yamagata Hayato, who is leaning against the back of the sofa and with his arms crossed over his chest. He is trying to remember what the statues had looked like. Meanwhile, Tendou’s eyes travel down to the spread-legged position Yamagata has.
His gaze lands on the prominent bulge there.
‘Now that I think about it, he’s probably the third who has the biggest dick among us.’
‘Wait,’ Tendou thinks. Those are certainly not his thoughts. Turning to his side, he sends a stink eye Semi’s way.
‘Oohira would be first—that guy’s massive,’ Semi thinks. ‘Then Ushijima. And Yamagata would tie with Satori. Then it’d be me or Jin. Or I guess we’d tie? How big is Jin’s dick anyway?’
Tendou squints hard at the other.
‘Of course, leave it to Semi to go from cults to dicks in a blink,’ he thinks.
He fights the urge to cover his crotch in defense. And a part of him wishes to stab Semi with a skewer for even ranking their dick sizes in the first place.
‘Really? In front of my barbecue,’ Kawanishi thinks solemnly, next to Semi as he, too, notices the bulge across from him. ‘Why doesn’t Yamagata-senpai have any social awareness?’
It’s true, Yamagata has no self-awareness at all. Tendou knows for a fact that Yamagata does not even realize they are all staring at the imprint of his dick.
He has his head tilted back, as though he is looking up to the ceiling but his eyes are shut close in concentration, trying to recall what the statue looked like., with deeply furrowed brows.
At least one of them is actively trying, especially because the only one who seems to accurately remember is Ushijima.
But Satori cannot peer into Ushijima’s mind.
So he decides to look closer into Yamagata’s current thoughts instead. He closes his eyes and tilts his head trying to zone into Yamagata’s memories.
After a second too long, Satori finds himself walking in Yamagata’s shoes. Down the trail backwards, retracing his steps from the moment they arrived at the facility back to the moment they were still walking uphill. His edges of vision is blurred, while the rest of Yamagata’s direct line of sight is crystal clear.
It feels like looking through a fisheye lens.
But Yamagata’s thoughts are vague at best.
The memory of the statue is further back in Yamagata’s memory. He could only peer through what Yamagata actually is able to recall.
Unless he peers deeper into Yamagata’s mind, which means he might see things that his friend kept hidden.
And even if he does successfully find the memory, Tendou is a little bit scared of his abilities affecting Yamagata in any way.
He knows his abilities are more than just peering into people’s thoughts. He knows he can soak into people’s emotions without them expressing it outwardly. He knows he had managed to close the door with his mind.
Tendou knows there is more to his abilities because he has seen Matsukawa Issei manipulate multiple people that night in the Otaku Incident.
And if Tendou was anything like Matsukawa then that would explain why the boy who tried to kill him was institutionalized after the incident.
He knows that their abilities have consequences on others if not treated with care.
And as he continues to follow Yamagata’s memory, tracing each step, Tendou feels a tug.
Suddenly, he is being pulled back by a magnetic force that seems to take the form of an invisible pressure pulling at his navel.
It drags him backwards until—Tendou is forced out of Yamagata's mind with so much force that his eyes snap open.
There is a moment of instability, and Tendou braces himself by the edge of the low table. It feels like his guy has been punched but it's over as soon as it happened.
Semi glances at him, surprised and concerned. Instinctively, he places a hand on Tendou’s hips drawing Tendou to lean on him.
“You okay?”
It takes a drawn shaky breath before Tendou settles down. When he looks up, he meets the worried stares of the other occupants of the room.
“Do you want to lie down?” Yamagata asks. He pats on the space between his spread thighs, and says, “You could lie down on this chair.”
Tendou swallows dryly but shakes his head.
“Naminami Village has a police box with one police officer in the area. There was another police officer, but he has since retired,” Agent Tajimi tells them.
He places three folders for each member of the team in a neat orderly fashion. Tendou Toshiaratamaru takes it smoothly, as the two other members do the same. His eyes scan through the files, flipping through the pages casually.
“They are under the Uenohara Police Station jurisdiction, so serious crimes, accidents, or other incidents are handed over there,” Agent Tajimi continues. “I attached a list of delinquents from the past months, specifically from 9 months ago and up to 4 months ago. Most of these cases are tourists and locals who get into drunken disputes.”
“How big is the current population?” Agent Ueda asks from beside him, “And who are the criminals or usual delinquents among the local population?”
“Nagasaki Kyousuke—he works as a local butcher. He’s a recurring name,” Agent Tajimi answers, easily. “Mochizuki Akihito, a local shop owner, is also another. But there hasn’t been a convicted criminal for the past years here.
“What’s their record?” Agent Ueda asks again, frowning.
“Local nuisance would be the best descriptor,” Agent Tajimi says. “You see, Nagasaki only gets into drunken disputes that are later solved the next day. He married a local woman ten years ago and has lived here since. But his records are clean until the past 9 months.
“And the other one?” Agent Matsuda asks, eyes flickering from the file and to Agent Tajimi.
“Mochizuki has a record for driving out tourists even further back,” Agent Tajimi answers. “But his record consists of only the instances that he uses threats and violence to chase off the tourists from his shop.”
“What type of tourists are we talking about?” Tendou Toshiaratamaru asks as his eyes linger on an attached photo.
“Foreigners—” Agent Tajimi says, before clearing his throat, “foreign tourists.”
His gaze traces over Tendou Toshiaratamaru’s broad shoulders and at the other’s light-colored hair. The man could also be easily mistaken as a foreigner, he thinks. Then his eyes trail down at the skin exposed by the loose hem of the nemaki.
When the older man looks up to meet Agent Tajimi’s eyes, he averts them immediately.
“The Japanese Constitution's Article 14 guarantees equality before the law,” Agent Matsuda says sardonically, “but racism and discrimination are still not illegal in the nation.”
Agent Tajimi looks over at him and tries to nod earnestly.
“How much did you say the local population currently is?” Tendou asks. Beside Agent Tajimi, the other junior agent looks up from the file with a narrowed look.
“A thousand,” Agent Tajimi responds, eyes flickering down to a small pocket-sized notebook hidden from their view.
“According to the census five years ago, they had around 1,500 residents,” Tendou says, intrigued. And to the rest of the table, he says, “That means it’s one of the rural areas experiencing a staggering depopulation.”
Agent Matsuda frowns. “What about it?”
“I’m still trying to figure it out,” Tendou Toshiaratamaru says easily. Then, with elbows dwarfing over the small coffee table, he leans forward.
“I noticed there are colored rows here,” he says as he points a finger over at the table where the name, photo, and offense of the usual offenders are placed in a red-colored row. “Are these the repeat offending tourists?”
“Yes,” Agent Tajimi says. “The repeated cases are the ones in the red row. The asterisks below the photos are the number of cases they have. I have a few notes of the cases from the past months, but not recently. There is a bit of a backlog in the details because the Residential Police Box reports aren’t fully digitalize yet. I was unable to look further into it.”
“How about the most recent serious crime?” Agent Ueda asks.
“A year ago,” Agent Tajimi says. “A relative of the now-retired police officer assigned in the Residential Police Box had their home burglarized. The suspect behind the incident broke into the house and turned the place upside-down. Some valuables were destroyed while jewelry was stolen.
“And there was that incident that took place last summer. Three boys disappeared and we were later found dead.”
Agent Tajimi pauses. Then he says, “Well, two of them were found dead. The other one is still missing.”
“Ah,” Tendou mutters, eyes glinting in interest. “This took place 9 months ago, am I right?”
The younger agent nods. He runs a hand through his hair and pushes it behind his ear before continuing, “Three boys around the age of 17 disappeared on the same night. These boys were Sawachika Masaru, Inoue Hiromu, and Endo Yoshihiro.
“Inoue and Sawachika attended the same junior high in Tabayama, which is now officially closed due to the lack of students. They later on attended senior high in Uenohara where they met Endo.”
“But just two of them were found?” Matsuda Banzai asks, raising a brow.
Agent Tajimi nods in confirmation, “Inoue and Endo’s bodies were found. Sawachika has yet to be found.”
Attached to each folder is a photo of the three boys. Tendou leans back and looks over at the attached photo in his folder that is on the table.
Reaching out over the table with a slender finger, Agent Tajimi points at one of the boys in the photo. In the rightmost of the frame, a boy with dark curly hair and a set of very light brows is making ugly faces at the camera. Pulling at the corners of his lips, he has a tongue out lolling childishly, showing off a pair of prominent snaggleteeth.
“That’s Sawachika Masaru. He’s the son of the inn proprietress. His father died a few years ago from a terminal disease. He has been living here and helping out in the inn. He was set to inherit this establishment after high school.”
Then his finger slides to the person in the center of the frame. The boy in the center has a hand extended into a peace-sign and another hand behind Sawachika, held behind his head in a universal gesture for horns. He has a smug look on his face and cropped dark hair with uneven fringes. He has a severe look in his eyes that is typical among high school kids nowadays.
“At the center is Inoue Hiromu,” Agent Tajimi says, “he’s the one with the dark bags under his eyes. His folks have since moved away. It seems his father was set to transfer in a few months before the incident. They currently live in Sapporo.”
Agent Tajimi points at the leftmost person in the frame. The third boy is the tallest among them, caught in the middle of laughing, with his head thrown back. But even with the position, it is evident that he has a wide-set frame and a bigger build than his peers.
“That’s Endo Yoshihiro. He moved to Uenohara to his father’s family home. He is survived by his paternal grandmother, who now continues to live alone in the family home, and then his father, his mother and a half-brother.”
“He looks foreign,” Agent Ueda says as he squints at the photo.
“Yes,” he says. Agent Tajimi glances at him and leans back. “His grandfather on his father’s side has foreign blood.”
“You said his grandmother lives in the family home alone?” Agent Matsuda asks, “Where’s this grandfather?”
“Deceased.”
“And how about his parents?”
“His mother lived in Tokyo and worked as a waitress in a bar. She has another son from a previous relationship, Endo Yoshihiro’s half-brother. His father works in Tokyo, but he is married to someone else.”
“Ah,” Agent Matsuda hums in understanding.
Children out of wedlock were not uncommon. It made sense why he lived with his grandmother instead.
“He took his father’s last name after a paternity test,” Agent Tajimi adds.
“And his mother?” Tendou Toshiaratamaru asks.
“She committed suicide a few weeks after Endo’s funeral. Her other son, Endo’s older half-brother, is a net café refugee. When the police closed the case, they then lost contact with him afterward.”
Tendou Toshiaratamaru is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. His voice was somber when he asks, “What was her name?”
“Motoma Narumi,” Agent Tajimi answers, “The kanji for her last name means ‘origin’ and ‘horse’. While the kanji for her first name means ‘to accomplish’ and ‘beautiful’.”
“And the other son?” Agent Matsuda interjects.
Agent Tajimi glanced towards him and answers succinctly, “Motoma Minobu.”
Kuroo Tetsuroo grabs at his own chest dramatically at the sight of the local goddess of Nekoma Volleyball Club in the form of Alisa Haiba.
He is exhausted but seeing a pretty girl waiting for him definitely took a bit of the exhaustion away.
She is sitting on the hood of her car looking like a stunning model despite being in casual clothes. Her ash blonde and tall figure only made her standout in the dull police station parking lot.
She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, as she types away at her phone. When she looks up, she catches sight of them. She gives them a soft smile, eyes crinkling, as she pockets her phone.
“She’s so pretty,” Kuroo mutters loud enough for his friend to hear him.
Kozume Kenma huffs, “You’re so shallow.”
“Don’t worry. You’re still the prettiest, pudding,” he tells the other with a conniving smirk.
“You’re being disgusting, Kuro. Stop.”
Kozume scowls at him before stomping ahead from him and towards Alisa with purpose.
A spark of glee runs down his spine at Kozume’s acrid annoyance. Kuroo was only intending to lighten the mood, but seeing such a strong reaction from Kenma thrilled him.
With that, Kuroo Tetsuroo feels a little bit more awake than he was a second ago. He grins boyishly and follows.
“Kenma,” Haiba says brightly as she bobs her head in a shallow greeting, “Kuroo-san.”
“Alisa,” Kozume replies with a nod. “Sorry for making you drive all the way here.”
“No, no,” Alisa says, waving her hands. “I wanted to. And I’m worried about Fukunaga-san too. He’s Levochka’s senpai. So thank you for keeping me in the loop.”
Kuroo feels his eyebrow twitch.
He steps beside Kozume. With a hand on the small of Kozume’s back, he casually waves at her in greeting with the other. “Sorry for making you drive alone, Haiba-san. How’s Lev?”
“He’s on the way to Miyagi,” she answers pleasantly. “Coach Naoi is with them. He’s in contact with Karasuno’s club advisor or coach—I’m not sure which one.”
She scrunches her face slightly in thought. Then she says charmingly, “But the other team has been informed of the delay.”
She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear again and averts her gaze, “And Nobuyuki-san has your luggage.”
He listens to her keenly, but his hands press against the curve of Kozume’s back beyond her gaze. He lets himself feel the warmth emanating from the other through the layers of clothes.
And in a languid fashion, he dips his hand down, right on the beginning of the swell of Kozume’s ass, and then up again in firm circular motions.
Kozume allows him like always. Because they both know it is more for his benefit than it is for Kozume.
He allows the shape of Kozume’s body ground him and soothe the anxiety plaguing him since the day Fukunaga disappeared. It has not been easy for him as the captain of the club.
Up close, Kuroo is assaulted by the smell of nicotine and mint from Haiba’s direction. But he tactfully does not comment about it.
Haiba Alisa looks paler at that distance, and there are dark bags under her eyes that she had not been able to conceal well with make-up.
But what Kuroo is fixating on is that she has been in contact with Kozume enough for her to be up to date with all that has happened.
Kuroo recalls Kozume mentioning she had even driven the other to the police station. Then he reminds himself that there are more pressing matters to attend to.
And this incident has been difficult for all of them.
“That’s good to hear,” Kuroo says cheerfully. “We’ll be in your care!”
She nods and fishes her car keys from her pocket. Then with a beep, the car unlocks and she opens the door to the driver’s seat.
His hand lingers on Kozume’s back for a second and then Kuroo steps forward. He opens the backseat door for Kozume.
But Kozume takes this moment to round to the other side of the car instead, where the passenger side door is.
Kuroo makes a sound that is between disbelief and confusion.
When Kozume looks over the roof of the car, he meets Kuroo’s gaze sharply. He says, “You should sit at the back.”
Bewildered, Kuroo asks, “What? Why?”
Kozume usually prefers being furthest from strangers. On long car rides, he takes kitten naps.
Kuroo had assumed he was going to be the one keeping their designated driver entertained for the next few hours.
But Kozume tells him, “You should nap on the way. I slept at the police station. It would be rude if you fall asleep next to the driver, no?”
A part of Kuroo sees through Kozume’s lie while the other part is too exhausted to hold it against him. So Kuroo sighs in defeat and slides into the backseat, cramming his long legs there. Kozume does the same on the front passenger seat with more leg space than he actually needs.
Once they’re in the less busier streets heading to Miyagi Prefecture, Kuroo’s eyelids are already heavy with fatigue. Kozume on the other hand is in the passenger seat, quietly watching the road head-on.
Haiba Alisa flickers her gaze on the road and then at Kozume every few minutes. The silence in the car is heavier than Kuroo’s own sleepiness.
“Kenma?” Haiba finally asks. “Did you manage to talk to Fukunaga-san?”
Kuroo opens his mouth to respond for Kozume, suddenly alert at the question. He did not talk to Fukunaga. Hell, he doesn’t even know if Fukunaga got in contact with his parents. Because even Coach Nekomata was not allowed to talk to Fukunaga.
They had seen him from a far when he was sent from one room to another. And the guy just gave them a silly two-handed thumbs-up.
The men in suits who took over the case were pretty tight-lipped about the case that even the local police were concerned about it.
All they know is that he is back. He looked pretty beat up but he is back.
Kozume hums in reply in the front seat. Kuroo does not articulate the response until Kozume continues, “He asked about his sister.”
