[4]

                                    

                                          
⚠ There are some graphic depictions in the first two paragraphs after the break, if you wish to avoid them. ⚠
                          


                          
That first year at the academy had been something else. (In reflection Chiyome and Tetsurou had decided that was the only way to describe it: "something else.") Not once had Kuroo been able to beat Chiyome in their sparring matches, quickly learning as the year went on why she was so confident that she didn't have to prove herself to anyone saying she didn't deserve to be there. 
                          
In truth, Kuroo had come to respect both of the Yaku siblings — learning that they were the type of people that didn't have to be flashy or ostentatious to be powerful. There was a fierceness in their silent presence, like they had defeated you before you even knew they were there. 
                          
It was hardly a surprise that, at the end-of-the-year celebration, Chiyome was recognized as the top female recruit of the year, sharing the stage with Ushijima Wakatoshi who had been named the top male. (Kuroo had walked away with rank four behind Sawamura Daichi and Bokuto Koutarou) She tried her best to smile as the rest of her class clapped for her but she was eager to escape the spotlight (and the overbearing presence of Ushijima) and quickly left the party for the academy's library, where she could read up on interrogation techniques she had yet to practice. 
                          
Kuroo had caught her in the hall, though, as she tried to slip away. He was leaning against the wall of the hallway as she turned away from the large wooden door she had carefully closed to not make a noise. 
                          
"Bet you just loved that," he sneered. "Having all that attention on you, celebrating how great you are."
                          
Chiyome scrunched her nose at the thought as the corners of her mouth gave way to gravity. 
                          
"Of course not," she sighed. "I'd much rather be consistent than stand out every now and again. It's a proven fact that the flames that burn the brightest, fade the fastest."
                          
- - -
                          
"We have no way to identify the body," the firefighter spoke to him, but the words were passing by Kuroo just as easily as the breeze. "It was very clearly purposeful, even the teeth were removed."
                          
He should have told them to spare the details. He didn't need to know that she'd been tied up. That, despite the body already being burned beyond recognition, the hands and head showed signs of trauma purposely intended to hinder identification. He didn't need to know that she had probably been tortured and killed before the fire even spread, but a part of him wanted to know so that every unforgettable, inexcusable detail would fuel the hatred inside of him for whoever had the balls to go after his family. 
                          
It wouldn't take a genius to figure it out (though he did have Kenma on speaker phone for backup). She'd been on assignment to break into the ranks of an international organization who had recently taken to planting their agents into countries by posing them as school teachers. It was a solid plan, really, create dissent and unrest in communities by rallying up educators (already angry about the government shifting the curriculum to be overly-nationalistic and about the devaluation of education in general) and brainwash an entire cohort of school children.
                          
Chiyome had been reluctant to take the mission — immediately telling Habarida to give it to a different agent, but recent revelations about a particularly long-lasting bout of the flu had Tetsurou practically begging her take on the milder job.
                          
It would be safer, he had argued. There was less moving around, more breaks in the day and the guarantee that, some days, she would be able to get off her feet by 4 pm. There'd be little running, hardly any jumping and a fat chance that she'd be fighting. It was the perfect assignment if she wanted to keep working through this situation. The only assignment, really.
                          
He should have made her quit.
                          
"I think that's enough for now, Captain," Kenma's voice echoed flatly through the phone, cutting the fire investigation lead off from continuing on his findings. "We can look through the full report later."
                          
"Right," the fire captain responded, straightening his back before giving a goodbye nod. "I'll be on my way then."
                          
Phone static drifted in the air as Kuroo watched the man in orange walk away. A light rustling from the speaker forced his sights downward to the phone clutched so firmly in his right hand that his knuckles had turned pale and his wrist was shaking.
                          
"I'll take care of it," came Kenma's voice, in between the rustling of paper and typings on a keyboard.
                          
"But-," Kuroo started, the word barely making it past his throat.
                          
"I've already messaged Akaashi to drive you to your grandmother's," Kenma continued. "Sleep tonight and tomorrow I might let you help me."
                          
There was a pause as Kuroo tried to find the words to argue, tried to make himself move even an inch if it meant he could prove he had the strength to keep going, but his system was shutting down. 
                          
"You're not the only one who wants to find these guys," Kenma said softly. "Trust me."
                          
- - -
                          
Chiyome's second year at the academy was christened with yelling and, frankly, Nekomata should have seen it coming. But that Yaku girl needed to learn to trust other people and he'd be damned if he gave her the easy way out by partnering her with her brother — a grown man could only acquiesce to a 14-year-old girl so many times before his pride and authority were called into question. 
                          
Such things were hardly on Chiyome's mind though when she saw her name next to Kuroo's on the bulletin board outside their Year 2 classroom, announcing the partnerships for the entire year's worth of test missions. 
                          
"You have to switch with me," she said to Iwaizumi Hajime as she caught him by the sleeve in the hallway. He had given her an amused half-smile before unlatching her fingers from his blazer and shaking his head.
                          
"I don't want to be with that cocky rooster-head anymore than you do," he stated. "But, even so, Irihata-sensei already said the partnerships were non negotiable."
                          
A questioning look from the girl forced him to shrug his shoulders and add, "I asked the moment I saw your brother's name next to mine. I knew you'd come asking."
                          
"You're so perceptive Iwa-kun," she responded sarcastically, slowly rolling her eyes. "It's no wonder you were chosen to be here."
                          
Kuroo was equally distraught, throwing out several "trade with me bros" before accepting defeat and trudging into the classroom with his head slumped and hands stuffed in his pockets. No amount of begging (or yelling) was going to change the terrible year  — he'd just suck it up and deal with it.
                          
That mentality didn't last long, though, as they ran across the movie studio-like setup in the back corner of the academy grounds during their very first test mission, throwing insults over their shoulders at the other. They had just made it to the top of the practice office building, after sprinting (and in Kuroo's case, tripping) up three flights of stairs and were preparing to repel over the edge of the roof. 
                          
Chiyome had gotten to her mark first, after "accidentally" letting the wind blow the stairwell door back in her partner's face and immediately took to securing her line. She had finished her preparations by the time Kuroo lined up next to her. She shot him a smirk and a mock salute before diving over the edge, shouting "catch me if you can, loser" as she fell. Not to be outdone, Kuroo hastily secured his line and hopped over the edge... only for his foot to catch in a loop of his line as he neared the bottom, leaving him swinging by the ankle in his own momentum.
                          
When the world finally stopped rocking back and forth, his ears filled with the sounds of Chiyome doubled over in the kind of ungraceful laughter that follows only the worst slapstick comedy.  
                          
"God, this is all your fault," Kuroo groaned, his arms still dangling above his head. "You know we were supposed to work together, right? What is your deal, anyway?"
                          
"I'm sorry. I'm just used to dealing with a higher caliber of a man," she said with a shrug as she poked his shoulder, sending him into extremely slow rotations around the axis of his trapped foot. "Morisuke would have made it through without a single mistake. You're the only issue here." 
                          
They failed the mission.