Chapter Text
In the darkness a hooded figure carries a duffel bag full of something metal, it makes a soft clank sound with every step they take. They stop at a pedestrian bridge, and clamber down the retaining wall, mostly quiet as the river behind them rushes onwards, steady and dark. Their boots hit the walkway at the base of the wall and they continue onward for a few feet before pausing, turning and looking over their shoulder. With a nod, they set the bag down and examine the wall in front of them, giving a quiet huff at the patches of discoloration. Gray squares painted over the brick, obvious even under the moons pale light, covering old stone and new moss and ivy, presumably it also covers graffiti art. They give a lifeless chuckle as they pull cans of paint out of the bag, hesitating only a moment to glance around before setting to work.
Hours later, the sun rises and the figure is long gone, but their work remains. On the wall there sits a simple piece, in neon pink and green, some faceless woman holds a crushed piece of paper in one hand, and a can of spray paint in the other. Underneath her, in big vibrant yellow letters: We will not be silenced.
When Bokuto Koutarou’s alarm goes off he sits up ramrod straight. Today’s the day.
Objectively he thinks he shouldn’t be quite so eager to help the riot police, nor should he be so eager to join them.
But he can't help but feel that he could make a real difference. That he would be a good cop. He could, and would lead by example.
Thoughts bright and optimistic, he stands in front of his mirror, debating whether or not he should bother styling his hair. He watches his mouth twist up into a frown as he decides not to. It’s just gonna end up under a helmet anyway, he thinks with some bitterness. Feeling a bit odd for ditching that portion of his routine, he brushes his teeth and simply combs his hair, walking into the kitchen and getting some toaster waffles ready. He eyes his coffeepot warily before opening his fridge and opting for orange juice instead. When the waffles pop up he nearly drops both glass and juice, but salvages the situation and gets the waffles on a plate and smears butter on them, pouring a (un)healthy amount of syrup on them before stuffing his face. By the time he’s chugged down the last of his juice he’s cursing at the time and frantically running out of his apartment, barely making it to station in time for his train.
He runs up the steps to his station, panting as he bursts through the door, no one gives a second glance once they’ve figured out who it was, used to his antics after six months. Bokuto cheerily greets Kenma as he passes his desk, but gets ignored in favor of whatever information is flashing across his screen. Or maybe he’s playing games under his desk again, Bokuto never can tell. He’s not too surprised to see Kuroo already sitting at his desk with his feet perched on the corner of it and a lazy grin spread across his face. “Morning, partner.”
“Morning, dude, sorry I’m late.” Bokuto leans over his own desk, double checking that he has all the paper work in place before gathering it all up while Kuroo slowly set his feet down and stretched.
Kuroo gives a glance to the clock on the back wall before shrugging. “A whole minute late, what am I supposed to do with a partner like you?” He puts his fingers underneath his chin, tilting his head before dropping both hands and shaking his head. “I just don’t know.”
“Guess you’ll just have to hope I get it together sometime soon. Come on, let’s go.” He laughs at his partner’s antics before giving him a light push towards the stairs, where they’ll be joining the riot police for today. Well, where they’re meeting to join the riot police for today. They were going up there to pick up gear and meet the guy they’d be shadowing all day. Then they’d head out to the assignment with the rest of the team for today. Bokuto was pretty pumped, and looking over at Kuroo and seeing the glint in his eyes as they ascended the stairs, he could tell his partner was too.
They were both fresh out of the academy and hadn’t been partnered until recently, and since being partnered they were stuck doing mostly desk work, occasionally patrolling or taking calls with senior officers. It hadn’t been until they’d taken a call for a domestic by themselves that they felt like they were finally doing something, not that they really minded the work they’d been doing, but both of them yearned to be more active. They both felt like they got more done with their boots on the ground, which is why they were both thrilled when it turned out the captain of the riot police had reached out to them after he saw how well they handled themselves in such a high tension situation. Which is how they ended up here, now, with a chance to actually do something.
Like he's wanted to since the start.
Bokuto feels like his heart might beat out of his chest as they’re handed their equipment and are directed towards the stairwell for the garage this time. As they walk into the garage they can see people hauling themselves and their gear into a van, the area near the exit is a flurry of motion, all moving but one.
Bokuto and Kuroo glance at each other before Kuroo speaks up, talking a bit louder than normal to be heard over the din. “Are you Iwaizumi-san?”
The guy turns his head and looks at both of them, appraising them before tilting his head forward. “Kuroo and Bokuto I assume?” At their nods he speaks up again, motioning them to get closer. “Alright, I’ll give you a rundown, and just Iwaizumi, please.”
“Yes Sir! Bokuto Koutarou here!” Bokuto can’t help but thrust his arm forward as they take several steps towards him, ending up a couple feet from him. Iwaizumi makes a face at the title, but grabs his hand and gives it a firm shake, returning the favor to Kuroo as he introduces himself.
This close, Bokuto can tell he’s not that much older than them, which is simultaneously encouraging and somewhat disappointing. He glances towards Kuroo, but if he thinks anything of the guy’s age he’s not showing it. Stupid Kuroo and his stupid poker face. He pulls himself from his almost-pout to listen to what Iwaizumi is saying.
“Here’s the situation, this is supposed to be like all the other peaceful protests so far, they’re at the park in front of the art museum, in the square with the sculptures. No violence is expected today, and in fact, it’s been a sit-down for the most part. We have no reason to believe anyone will be there, but they still like for us to be around, it can keep the protesters from acting up, but it mostly makes the civilians passing by feel safer. So our job is to stand around and look attentive, you most likely won’t have to do anything but that. Since we’re a bit short, Bokuto will shadow me and Kuroo can shadow Washio, if we split you up we can have 3 equal groups dispersed throughout the area. That cool with you guys?” As he’s finishing up his speech he starts scratching at the back of his head, idly looking around.
When Bokuto looks over to Kuroo he’s already looking at him, they pass a look and then both shrug. “Sure.” Bokuto says.
Iwaizumi claps his hands together “Good, cause it looks like everyone’s loaded up, you two can introduce yourselves to everyone else on the drive over. I’m driving, so I’ll be up front.” He claps them each on the shoulders and gives a small smile and nod before heading to the front of the van.
They head towards the back of the van, where the doors are open and conversation stops as they come into sight. Three sets of eyes bore into them and Bokuto straightens his back on impulse, “Bokuto Koutarou! Nice to meet you!”
Beside him, Kuroo lazily picks up his hand and waves “Kuroo Tetsurou, same.”
The blonde smirking on the bench to the left speaks up first. “Welcome to the team, well maybe right?” He pauses only momentarily, not giving them a chance to speak up “I’m Konoha.” He points to the guy sitting to his left “That’s Washio, and-”
“I’m Onaga.” He’s just lifted his finger and is pointing his hand towards the guy sitting in the back when said guy introduces himself. The blonde-Konoha, shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
“I forget you’re not like Washio, you’re not quiet all the time, just most of the time.” The guy sitting on the back bench colors a bit, fidgeting in place but (predictably, apparently) stays silent. Bokuto finds himself a bit uncomfortable under Konoha’s gaze when it falls on them again. His smirk isn’t quite lazy like Kuroo’s, and his eyes are too perceptive.
He can't help but feel that he's being analyzed, every detail going into some catalog.
“Well?” He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the blonde gesturing to the empty bench in front of him, on the right side of the van. “Are you coming?” Kuroo’s the first to haul himself into the back, and Bokuto follows after him, Konoha reaching out and shutting the doors behind them. Onaga knocks against the wall he’s leaned against and a few minutes later they’re on their way.
Now that he’s in the car he can tell just how big Washio and Onaga are, Washio was around Kuroo’s height, but Onaga must be taller, it was easy to tell even sitting like they were. Bokuto feels suddenly insecure looking around until his eyes land on Konoha again, he’s pretty sure he’s got height and mass on that guy. He feels like his height wouldn’t be a factor then, right? He forces his mind to settle and concentrates on remembering his training.
Silence fills the back of the van until Konoha sighs and leans his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Truth be told, there hasn’t been a lot to do lately, even though the city is so turbulent in some places it’s been peaceful for the most part.” Washio grunts beside him.
“That’s a good thing isn’t it?” Bokuto glances over to where Kuroo is, his head leaned against the wall and posture lazy, but his eyes are sharp and he thinks he might be getting better at reading him.
Konoha shrugs, keeping his eyes focused on the roof above them. “On the surface, sure, but something about it feels… off. As if all this pressure is building into… I don’t know, but my gut feelings says to stay on my toes, and I trust my gut.” His head snaps back down and he’s looking Bokuto dead in the eye, smirk replaced with a small smile and he points a finger at him sharply. “Always trust your gut, especially if you’re gonna stick around here.” Beside him, Washio slowly nods his head sagely.
He clears his throat “Uh, yeah that’s pretty good advice, thanks.”
The pair across from them take their attention off of them, Konoha making a thoughtful sound before checking his equipment. Bokuto takes the cue to do the same and sees Kuroo and the others following suit. Just as he’s sitting up from retying his boots the van halts. The doors are wrenched open and Bokuto squints into the light, lifting an arm to try to block it. “Alright, Bokuto with me, then Onaga with Konoha at the south clearing.” Konoha grabs Onaga by the arm and steers them both in that direction, Iwaizumi yelling after them. “Keep your walkies on please!” He sighs at Konoha waving him off without turning around and turns toward Kuroo and Washio “You two at the northeast, near the entrance.” Washio nods and silently heads towards the entrance, Kuroo glancing back at Bokuto and shrugging before trailing behind him. Iwaizumi turns towards Bokuto “Alright we’re going to the northwest clearing, near the edge of the park.” He turns and heads that way and Bokuto catches up to him easily. “We’re gonna be in the trees, not hidden, but not visible, again we’re mostly hear to prevent incidents, not manage them.” They reach a spot between two trees and Iwaizumi stops. Bokuto looks around, there’s good visibility, but enough trees between them and the crowd that they won’t be seen unless someone’s looking for them. Iwaizumi unstraps his helmet and drops it to the ground in front of him after a few seconds and simply leans against a tree, surveying the area.
Bokuto follows his lead and looks out over the crowd and Iwaizumi seems right, for the most part people are just sitting around the statues with their signs up. Some are standing and taking photos or painting, and he does see a few people standing near the fence facing the museum and chanting protests, but that’s the only indication that this is a protest. The scene is so serene he begins to question the necessity of them being here, heck he even sees a small woman traipsing about the crowd, handing out muffins and other baked goods from a basket.
He lets himself fall on the tree nearest him heavily, dropping his helmet behind him. He must seem pretty lost because Iwaizumi starts talking. “To be perfectly honest, I think this is a waste of time and money.” Bokuto’s jaw drops a little and he turns to his (possibly) future superior with wide eyes, but Iwaizumi stares straight ahead. “The only reason we’re here is because some big wigs are visiting the museum, saying some words about the censored pieces in front of the censored pieces while reporters take pictures of them in front of the censored pieces. We’re here as a contingency, no one thinks anything will happen to anyone here today, but the riot police hasn’t had a lot of reason to go out lately, so our captain thought it’d be good.” He stretches and looks around, tilting his head towards Bokuto slightly “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think there’s something more than protecting officials. I don’t know how to explain it, but being sent here almost feels like I’m some guard dog on a chain, like our presence isn’t just to manage incidents or reassure bystanders, it’s almost like a reminder to those involved that they can’t do anything. Well, not while we’re here at the least.”
Bokuto turns back towards the crowd and swallows, he watches a young woman contemplate the crowd in front of her before going back to her canvas, at this angle he can see what she’s working on. It’s a landscape of the museum, but with barbed wire fences around the perimeter and roof, iron bars and the doors and heavy locks on the windows. He can see what she’s going for. He turns back towards Iwaizumi “Say, sir, can I ask you a question?”
He grunts and keeps his eyes forward facing.
“Feel free not to answer, but personally, what do you think of the censorship laws?” He freezes when Iwaizumi turns his eyes towards him slowly, but relaxes slightly when he gives an ungraceful snort.
“Personally? I think it’s too much, but I don’t make the laws. That’s not my job, my job is to enforce them.” His neck swivels and once more he’s back to staring out at the crowd, Bokuto does the same. He doesn’t see him turn but he still asks “What about you? Personally what do you think?”
Bokuto shrugs slowly “Art shouldn’t be censored, it’s supposed to be thought provoking y’know. It’s supposed to make you challenge yourself and others, it doesn’t seem fair to take that away from artists.” He feel the eyes of the man beside him boring into the side of his head and forces a laugh “Then again, I’m a bit biased since I studied art before I joined the academy. Although in the end I’m in the same position as you, so it’s not like it makes a difference.”
He feels his cheeks heat up as the man across from him snorts “That was pretty good food for thought. Well what do you know, we might have an artist joining our midst.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, I mostly studied theory, I was a little crap at it in practice.” He scratches at the back of his head idly. He sees Iwaizumi shrug and they fall into an easy silence.
An hour or so passes and Bokuto is grateful for the slight breeze, otherwise he might doze off. He suppresses a yawn by shaking his head and stretching his arms.
As if some deity heard his thoughts he hears Konoha’s voice crackle through the radio on his shoulder. “Here comes trouble.”
He hears Iwaizumi both a few feet from him and through the speaker near his ear and he cringes at the discordant echo. “Konoha clarify, and it’s another shitty joke don’t bother, you know you should keep the line clear.” Glancing over at him, he seems less worried and more hassled.
“It’s that kid with dark hair. From the bridges last week.” Iwaizumi curses off the line and Bokuto’s eyes widen. It can’t be that serious, it’s just one dude, right?
“Where?” When he speaks he sounds a bit calmer.
“Headed your way.”
“Great.” Iwaizumi drops his hand off his radio and looks through the crowd.
Bokuto clears his throat “Who was he talking about?”
He sighs and drops his gaze, running a hand through his short, spiky hair before going back to visually searching the protestors. “We’ve had a few run-ins with him before. He comes to protests and rallies pretty frequently, but last week… Well, Konoha and I were patrolling the bridges for some friends in another precinct and we ran across someone in a hood with a clanking duffel bag. Suspicious, but not illegal,” Bokuto finds himself nodding “so we kept walking and a few minutes later we come across what he was working on. This huge green and pink piece on the retaining wall. We turn around ‘cause we figure we can take him in, it hasn’t been that long, he should be nearby right?” He scoffs and his eyes land on someone then he shakes his head and continues his search. “We get to where we saw him last and there’s something small painted on a wall nearby, we get closer and you can still smell the paint. We search the area for a few minutes but call it quits. The next patrol had called in so we go over to our car and there, painted on the hood is an obnoxious green and pink smiley face.” Bokuto can see pure irritation on Iwaizumi’s face as he lifts a hand towards someone walking briskly towards the front of the crowd. “There he is, and of course I can’t prove a goddamned thing.”
Bokuto can only make out the guys back, he’s wearing a black t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off to show off the splash of colorful tattoos on his arms with dark skinny jeans and combat boots laced up past his ankles. He certainly looks the type.
They both watch quietly as the man disappears into the thick of the crowd, until Iwaizumi speaks up. “He’s always at the front of the protests, until last week I thought that was as involved as he was.” He shakes his head and goes back to watching over the crowd with a disinterested stare. “Whatever, I can’t do anything about it.”
Bokuto feels a bit of sympathy for the guy, it sounds like a shitty situation. It's hard to imagine what he'd do if something like that happened to him. He shakes off the thought since he probably won’t have to find out anytime soon, though.
A few hours later and everyone’s getting ready to go, since it’ll be dark soon. Iwaizumi radios to tell everyone that they’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Bokuto walks around a bit and stretches, keeping an eye on the dispersing crowd. He freezes in place when Iwaizumi grabs his shoulder.
“Huh?” He looks at him and he’s staring at something in the distance. Bokuto follows his line of sight and his heartbeat stutters.
It’s the guy from earlier, walking towards them, mouth flat and forehead smooth. A completely neutral expression if not for the fire burning in his eyes. As he gets closer Bokuto can make out more details, his ears and one of his eyebrows are pierced, and he’s wearing eyeliner. His hair looks so soft and fluffy Bokuto just wants to reach out and pet it.
He stops where the pavement ends and stares them down, hands shoved into his pockets. After a few minutes he smirks and then nods at the both of them, turning on his heel and walking off with loud boot-laden steps.
Bokuto tries very hard to kick his brain back into gear, it’s a little stuck right now.
That guy was gorgeous what the fuck? I didn’t think I had a thing for piercings. Or punks. Maybe it’s just a thing for him?
He’s pulled out of his stupor by Iwaizumi shaking his shoulder and clapping him on the back. He makes out the tail end of whatever he was saying. “-doesn’t matter. Whatever that was about we’ll figure out later.” Bokuto nods dumbly and picks up his helmet, pausing at the new splash of color on it. He stops in his tracks and stares it down.
Iwaizumi gives him a look before walking over from retrieving his own helmet and looks down at Bokuto’s.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Iwaizumi sounds like a mixture of awed and pissed.
Bokuto swallows and stares down the cartoon pig winking at him from the top of his helmet. It’s garishly pink with dark, thick eyelashes and almost looks like it was plucked straight from a children’s show. Despite being an obvious message, Bokuto can’t help but think it’s cute, then his only thought is:
Why me?