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the siren call of a shabby and tired detective

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Daisuke didn't expect Haru to warm up to him, considering everything that'd happened when they met and their clashing ideologies. But Daisuke had never met a single person so unwilling to fall for the siren call of his power or influence.

Everyone liked to pretend they weren't allured by the thought of his money, but it'd never been true in the end. He'd just not found Haru's breaking point yet. The point where Haru stopped lying to himself and, as such, everyone around them. Everyone could be bought.

It hadn't happened yet, despite months of them being partners and working together. Every time Daisuke solved a problem with money, Haru still scoffed and looked unimpressed.

So Daisuke thought up a new way to scheme out Haru's breaking point. It was a way to alleviate boredom more than anything. Though he or Haru did stumble on interesting cases every so often, their division wasn't a busy one. Daisuke had considered fixing that and calling in some favours to have better cases be sent there, but he found himself quite liking the unexpected way Haru stumbled upon interesting cases all on his own. He'd never had such an unexpected factor in his life before. People tended to be so predictable after all.

Their current case was a murder of a store manager. Haru, though he'd yet to say it aloud, clearly thought it was yakuza. The questions he'd asked the witnesses were too pointed to be anything else. Daisuke found himself apathetic on the theory. The murder didn't seem like enough of a statement. In theory it could be yakuza, could be someone hoping bland policemen would think of it as a yakuza-related murder.

In the end it wouldn't matter. It'd end the same way it always did, with Daisuke winning.

Haru was wrapping up his questioning. As usual, he'd not even looked towards Daisuke once to see if he'd have any questions. That arrogance of his would one day be his undoing, but Daisuke, despite himself, wanted to be around to see it happen. Undoing Haru, the most uptight person he knew, seemed like the most fun he could have in Japan.

The witness, an elderly lady, was more polite than Daisuke's partner and turned to Daisuke to see if he had anything to say before she went on her merry way. He considered giving her money just to see if she gave more information, but Haru had turned around and for once, he didn't seem annoyed by the mere sight of Daisuke. He was too in thought to consider Daisuke a bother, he guessed. Haru's eyes were like the rest of his face, expressive and easy to read. His eyes were slit in thought, focused on something so Daisuke saw more ecru yellow than black. They glittered in a way that Daisuke was reminded of birds of prey on the hunt. His partner could hunt certainly, but he lacked the grace of a bird of prey. But grace could be taught. It'd be an interesting experiment.

Haru was still staring at nothing. He likely hadn't even noticed the witness leaving. But-- grace. Haru would look good in a proper suit. What accents to bring out the yellow of his eyes? Not purple, too overdone. A deep blue perhaps. Daisuke wondered how well he danced. Would Daisuke have to teach him?

There was a ball in a month. Daisuke thought he just found himself a partner. Now to just pull enough strings to get a case involved.


In the end Daisuke only had to mention the ball to the superintendent before a case fell into his lap. The security was all private of course, but to make the police feel useful, the coordinator had assigned them to be on the lookout for suspicious individuals. Of course no invitation was attached, the coordinator didn't exactly want police to be around their important guests. The assignment was only one on a formality. The police officers were expected to stake the neighbourhoods around the ball. If they felt the need to be involved.

But Daisuke had an invitation with a neat little line that included a plus one. Had had the invitation for months, but never felt the need to show up until his change of heart.

He dropped the case file, along with his invitation, on Haru's desk. Haru, who had been going through cold cases, jumped. He turned towards Daisuke, a scowl already on his face, before he realized what had been dropped on his desk. And just like that, Daisuke was forgotten. He didn't like the casual way Haru dropped everything for a case, so he started explaining the relevant details of the case. Date, venue, number of guests, Haru's suit would arrive tomorrow, the dance lessons started after that--

"Dance lessons? Suit?" Haru demanded. He turned back to Daisuke, case file forgotten.

"A suit that was made in under 200 hours is garbage," Daisuke tells him, "and a man who can't dance at a ball is even worse."

Haru had a specific face he pulled when he thought Daisuke was being stupid and overcompensating for everything with money (his own words). He was pulling it right now, but there was an undercurrent of nervousness that confirmed Daisuke's theory about his ability to dance.

Haru's eyes lit up. For a second, Daisuke was lost. There was no reason for--

"Why the fuck do you know my measurments, you creepy--"

Ah. It was in anger. Of course.


Despite Haru's clear distaste for the new suit, he did accept Daisuke's explanation about him needing to fit in. He took his job too seriously to put up unnecessary fuss when people could be in danger. Even he eventually understood that he couldn't get into the "rich beanfest" (courtesy of their co-workers) without trying to fit in, even if he thought it was ridiculous.

He seemed to hate the shoes on principle. Daisuke was wholly sure they were the right size, fit and style for Haru. He'd personally picked them out with Haru in mind. He trusted his butler with his life, but Daisuke knew Haru best. He couldn't allow for Haru to look more uncomfortable by his side than the environment was bound to make him.

"They're durable," Daisuke told Haru, "won't break when you're running or fighting. They're oxfords to match your regular style--"

Haru closed his eyes, breathing in deep. He sighed. "You know my shoe style?" He sounded so resigned. Daisuke didn't get it. Was he supposed to ignore the unexpected taste of this man preferring oxfords over, god forbid, sneakers?

"Of course. The chief prefers loafers," Ugh and were they ugly, "and--"

"Don't tell me! I don't wanna know! Is there anything else I should know about these shoes?"

Daisuke debated the merits of continuing anyway, just to goad Haru some more. In the end, despite Haru's clear exasperation, Daisuke thought he spotted a small smile playing on his lips and-- and didn't want that to disappear so soon. Not yet. Haru didn't smile around him often. It made him actually look his age. Like a young adult taking on too much, instead of the weary and tired man.

"They should last you for years," is what Daisuke ended up telling him, "even with the way you ruin your shoes."

Haru did lose his smile, but what followed was a calculating gleam in his eyes that Daisuke didn't-- disapprove of. It certainly brought out more of the flaxen yellow spots of his eyes.

The people of that ball were going to eat him alive, if Daisuke left his side for even a moment. To save his partner the trouble, he guessed he had to stay close.

"Okay," Haru dropped next to the shoe box, which had lain forgotten on the floor. "Let's get this over with." Despite his insistence that he knew how to dance and this was unnecessary, Daisuke had required at least one dance lesson before the ball came around. He made certain there was enough time to the ball that, if Haru was lying and didn't know how to dance, they had time to cram the knowledge into him anyway. Haru wasn't the lying type however. Daisuke wondered why he'd learned; to impress someone? For a love of dance? Neither seemed like something Haru would do.

Haru had opened the box and the right shoe was in his hands. His expression was-- fond, perhaps. Daisuke felt like he was taking too many liberties calling it that. It was a lighter expression than Daisuke usually saw. The flaxen spots in Haru's eyes seemed to gleam and shimmer like stars. Or perhaps like light reflecting off honey.

"Did you get them engraved, you lunatic?" Haru demanded.

Daisuke felt a smile tugging at his lips, more feral and real than he usually allowed himself but-- Haru was always going to be like this, huh? Daisuke found himself liking that more and more. He'd never met a person so ready to argue with him. Someone so open with their emotions and opinions.

"Don't ignore me! I can't donate them now! What am I going to do with them?!"

"Wear them so we can get to dancing," Daisuke replied, voice colder than he felt on the inside. His innards felt so warm in comparison. Ridiculously so. Maybe something was wrong with him.

Haru huffed, though he did start putting on the shoes. "Just so you know, I will be donating the suit."

Daisuke couldn't help it, Haru was still so clueless: "And you'll just let me buy you another copy the next time we have to wear suits? How scandalous, I didn't think you wanted my money."

Haru yelled in incoherent rage, which made Daisuke laugh. He felt too light not to. Everything was warm and-- affection was brewing in his chest. He hadn't been this happy in years.

Once his laughter calmed down, he glanced at Haru. One of the laces had fallen from his hands and he didn't seem to notice. He was just staring at Daisuke, eyes more hazy black than yellow. Just as Daisuke felt a frown tugging at his lips, Haru snapped out of his thoughts, quickly ducked his head and seemingly concentrated on the laces of his shoes. But that-- were his ears red? Was he blushing?

Daisuke smiled.


Daisuke was sad to know that Haru did know how to waltz. He'd taken classes in elementary, he told Daisuke, whole face red. The worst part about that blush was that-- the only part of his face to not blush was the area around his mouth. It felt like a punch in the gut to be so close to Haru, going through the English waltz steps, switching positions every so often. And while he was so close, the blush-- it felt like the biggest arrow to Haru's mouth possible. 

After that it got both harder and easier. Haru didn't remember how to dance the Viennese waltz that well. Going over the steps was easy because Haru was a fast (re)learner, but dancing Viennese waltz was always a hassle with a new partner. At the ball, where anyone could ask Haru to dance, he should really know all versions of the waltz, but Daisuke found himself teaching him only the form Daisuke preferred. Really, when would anyone get the chance to ask anyway? Daisuke was sure to get in their way, of that he was certain. For all that he enjoyed Haru flailing and being forced into situations because he was too polite to say no, Daisuke liked being the only one who knew how to dance with Haru.

And, he privately thought to himself, maybe Haru thought the same, because they clicked really well, the way partners and people on the same wavelength were supposed to. He just needed to never disprove this hypothesis.


The ball only had important people and there were a lot of important people in Tokyo. The ballroom was one of the largest but Daisuke found himself unimpressed anyway. There were too many people crammed into the ballroom, far more than people of their status were expected to deal with.

He didn't say this outloud of course, both to not start a scandal (too early in the evening) and because Haru was sure to lose his temper at that and yell at him. They did need to blend in at least a bit.

But-- Haru. Haru blended in wonderfully. The suit, black with blue accents, fit him perfectly. Of course it did, Daisuke had it made for him, but-- the colour really did bring out his eyes. His eyes that were focused on the crowd. He wasn't scowling like he usually was, but Daisuke doubted he did that on purpose. Likely just focusing on the job. It allowed Daisuke to drink in the sight of Haru in something Daisuke had picked out for him. He'd always thought he'd just like the sight because Haru wore the same shabby outfit to work everyday, but he found himself fixating on the fact that Haru was wearing clothes Daisuke had chosen for him. He'd spent days imagining the sight, but it really had nothing on the real Haru.

"Do you think that lady in the pink and purple dress is stealing?" Haru whispered to him, forcing Daisuke to focus on his job. He snorted.

"She always steals."

"I'm going to arrest her."

Oh boy.


That led to their current case. The same lady Haru had arrested in plain sight of everyone powerful in Tokyo had allies that were now mad at Haru. It took a considerable amount of pulling strings on Daisuke's end to just keep Haru from being assassinated. For someone who didn't want any part of his wealth, he sure did force himself into situations where Daisuke had to save him using a considerable enough of cash.

For now, Haru was on house arrest. Daisuke was the only one allowed to know his location. He'd even barred access to that information from his butler.

While Haru pouted and rifled through closed cases (Daisuke also had to pay to get everyone to turn a blind eye to that), Daisuke had to do all the leg-work Haru pushed on him. In theory it shouldn't have worked, because Daisuke was not the one who'd gotten Haru into the situation and he was the one paying for the repercussions, but after the third argument, he'd just accepted that this was his fate. Haru got moody when he didn't have work to do and Daisuke was tired of them arguing. Also he was pretty sure if he didn't do the legwork Haru would just sneak out and do it himself, not caring people were after him.

Being told to go to a fast food restaurant and talk to an old witness was a new low for him however. He hadn't stepped foot in one fast food restaurant in his life and because Haru was moody and bitter about the consequences of his actions, he had to? Horrifying. He'd decided to buy the restaurant and order a thorough cleaning before he even stepped foot into it. And also ordered that it'd be closed during the interview, because he did not need to see the hellions people called kids in their natural environment.

He went through an actual cafe afterwards. He had a strict diet he was supposed to follow, but he desperately needed something to get the bad taste out of his mouth. So he ordered two donuts, filled with vanilla cream for Haru and a plain one for himself. And two coffees, both plain black, but Haru's used coconut milk, because he was a baby who didn't like the taste of real milk.

That done, he headed back to the safehouse, where Haru was either napping or working himself into a frenzy over being housebound and not being allowed to solve crimes. 

He was right, of course. Haru was napping on the couch with case files stewn all-around him. What a predictable man. The blanket Daisuke had specifically left on the corner of the couch was ignored, of course. 

He snorted, placed the donuts and coffees on the corner table, and was about to grab the blanket, when he heard a quiet, groggy, "Daisuke?" God, Haru's voice was so low, traces of sleep still so obvious.

"I'm here," he ended up whispering back, hands still inches away from the blanket.

"How did it go?"

Daisuke turned his gaze back to the table and considered if Haru was sleep-deprived or not. Daisuke lived in the safe house too, for security reasons of course, and he hadn't seen Haru pull an all-nighter in a few days. "Eat your donut and I'll tell you."

Like he expected, the talk of food made Haru curious enough that he raised his head from suffocating himself on the couch cushions. His eyes turned towards Daisuke first and Daisuke suffered as he realized his hands were still obviously near the blanket. Haru just smiled at him though, sleep making the edges of his smile soft. There were creases on his cheek from the couch. It was an absolutely adorable sight. Daisuke felt his breath catch.

A detective who'd been kicked out of his old division for anger issues (or so the story went) had no right making Daisuke feel so soft. One day he'd get over this.

Haru reached for the coffee first, smelling the cup. "Is this mine?"

"Well, I bought it so it's mine," before Haru's face could do more than flash to annoyance, Daisuke added, "it's yours, yes. With coconut milk and everything. I wouldn't drink that trash."

Haru smiled again, the flexen flecks in eyes seemingly dancing with their joy.

"The donut is also yours, I don't eat that trash either." Well, in theory. Only his bank account was the wiser and that'd never failed him.

Haru looked into the bag and was quick to practically gulp the treat down. Did he even take more than one bite? What a monster.

"Okay, tell me about the case," Haru demanded.

Daisuke sighed.


Haru spent two months in house arrest and even he wasn't as happy when he got out as Daisuke was. Spending time with Haru was nice and all, but Daisuke hated being on someone's beck and call constantly. It felt too much like a leash, even if he knew Haru himself didn't see a point to tie himself to Daisuke.

Haru was absolutely ecstatic to be at work. He did sometimes demand Daisuke do something, likely out of habit, to the absolute bafflement of their co-workers. It was the first clue Daisuke had that their relationship had changed during Haru's house arrest.

The second clue came when he entered the office with a box of food, which made everyone swarm him, and he told them it was Haru's and his lunch. Haru was getting too skinny, living alone again ruining the amount of times a day he ate. Daisuke took personal offense to that, because clearly Haru just didn't know how hard it'd been for Daisuke to force the habit into him during house arrest. He refused to have a partner who was on the verge of collapse.

"Since when do you bring him lunch?" someone asked. He didn't remember who, because he was focusing on spreading Haru's items on his desk so he couldn't sneakily give them to someone else.

"Every damn day," he scoffed. What a lazy man, how had he lived without Daisuke? By getting kicked out his division and starving himself, obviously. Neither would have happened with Daisuke around. He just had to stay around so Haru didn't die.

The door to the office opened, Haru back from his bathroom break. He called out, "Why are you back already?" as he walked towards their desks.

Daisuke felt a frown tugging at his mouth, which he viciously suppressed, "She cancelled."

"Again?" Haru asked, the beginning of anger in his voice, "That's absolutely not okay."

Daisuke nodded, though he couldn't help but wonder why his oldest friend was still ignoring him, if it had something to do with his current company. She might be on the other side of the law now for all he knew.

Haru was suddenly in his field of view, waving a hand, "Come on, let's eat on the roof."

Because he knew Daisuke liked high places. Daisuke found himself smiling, despite his absolutely abysmal mood.


The third clue that their relationship had changed was Haru himself, when, while they were eating, he looked at the sky and smiled wide, "The last time we were both here, I absolutely hated you." Not something Daisuke had not known, of course, but he wondered why that was a topic to smile over.

"Don't get me wrong, you're still an absolute bastard, " Haru laughed, "but I think both of us are better since then."



Haru rolled his head to turn towards Daisuke, "Y'know. I was brash and got myself into a situation that could have gone horribly. Since house arrest, I've been thinkin' about it. I don't value my own life that much, huh?"

Daisuke swallowed, certain there was a clump in his throat, "No, you don't."

"You spending months of your life stuck to my side, because you don't want me to die-- it means a lot to me. And I am glad to have you in my life, is all. Thanks."

No one had ever thanked Daisuke for spending time on them. It was because he didn't, he realized. He would not have spent that much time of his life for anyone but Haru.

"And you, you're different too. I can't imagine bridge you," what a ridiculous way to call his past self, "ever doing that for anyone. You didn't think about other people a lot back then, right?"

Daisuke nodded, at a loss for words. No one had ever dissected his personality like this before, not someone he cared about. He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff and Haru's words could make or break him. And he didn't hate himself for giving Haru that power.

Haru lit up, "And yet you went out of your way to save a criminal just yesterday. I'm really proud of you, y'know." Daisuke had not blushed in his life and yet-- and yet--

Haru laughed, a wholly happy sound, and beckoned Daisuke closer, "come here."

When he did, Haru twinged his hands through the hair at the back of his neck and leaned into their first kiss of many.

Haru's lips weren't soft, but they weren't chapped either. He didn't use lip balm like Daisuke did. Daisuke had for the whole of his life preferred his partner to have moisturized lips as well, but he found himself thinking it was the best kiss of his life.

Their foreheads pressed together and when Daisuke opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to notice that Haru's were already open. He could tell just from them that Haru was grinning, because his eyes had never shined so bright. Daisuke found himself grinning as well, just from knowing Haru was close and happy and-- he'd caught Daisuke.

Daisuke had tried to tame his partner by making him more graceful, more like the bird of prey of he imaged Haru could be, but just ended up as (very happy) prey to a man who'd never needed to change, but had done so anyway, because Daisuke had worried about him.