Chapter Text
If there's one universal rule to humanity, it is that, where there's an office, there's gossip. It is of human nature to take heightened interest in each other's private lives when confined in a building for any longer than thirty minutes a day, every day, and even a job like in Criminal Affairs’ Mobile Investigation Units, which takes place exponentially more outside of the office than it, cannot escape this law.
People talk. And all week, people have been talking about The Band.
Not a musical band, no. The silver band around Ibuki Ai's ring finger.
Most people would act like they hadn't noticed it when talking to Ibuki, or seeing him pass by, only to turn to each other in frenzied, hushed discussions as soon as he turned his back. What was that? He had a girlfriend? Since when? Who is it? Older? Younger? What kind of job she had?
Speaking of which, do men usually wear engagement rings? Well, it's more common nowadays. What if it's not an engagement ring, but just a couple ring, or a promise ring? No, actually – what if it's a wedding ring?
What if it was a shotgun wedding?!
Nobody has the guts to ask him directly about it, though. It would take someone with their social skills a little out of whack to do so, after all.
“Huh? What's this?” Itomaki from Spider asks as soon as he spots The Band, right when he's going through some security camera footage with Ibuki to search for a suspect on the run. They're supposed to be in a hurry, but… “Ibuki, you're married?!”
Ibuki's grin is an intense, sickening mix of smug and genuinely happy. He raises his hand to show it off, right up to Itomaki's wide eyes. “Freshly engaged!”
“Oh, so you're not married yet! That caught me by surprise!” Itomaki clutches his pearls, slowly regaining his footing in the real world after having to contemplate a reality in which Ibuki is a family man. “By the way, did you know that in Sri Lanka, the groom wears his ring on the right hand and the bride wears hers on the left? Isn't that interesting?”
“Wait, for real?!” That pointless bit of trivia is an unexpected hit with Ibuki. He quickly extends both hands, glancing back and forth between them. “No way! Mine's on the left! Should I wear a white tux to the ceremony?”
“Well, if you were Sri Lankan, you might have to,” Itomaki says. Then, he frowns. “Wait, what?”
“Hey, Shima!” Ibuki turns around the precise moment officer Shima opens the door, barely having time to step in before the call. “What should I do? Should I wear a black tux,” he raises his right hand, “or a white one?” Switches to the left.
Shima stops walking and looks at both of them. Itomaki is a little intimidated by the way he narrows his eyes.
“Weren't you going on and on and on yesterday about how you want to wear a blue suit?” He retorts, resuming his steps into the room. “What happened to that?”
“True,” Ibuki puts a hand to his chin, in deep thought. “So, a light blue or dark blue one?”
Shima rolls his eyes. “Dark blue.” He slaps Ibuki's head with the case files, although without much force, and walks over to Itomaki and the computer. “So, what do you guys got?”
Abandoning the idle chat to finally do some work, Itomaki feels like he’s realized something.
Soon, it becomes part of the talk too. He's not married, just engaged. There'll be a ceremony. He was consulting his partner for suits? But of course, of course he was!
If Ibuki is getting married, who could be his best man if not Shima Kazumi?
Kokonoe's eyes almost pop out of its sockets when he first sees The Band.
The situation doesn't call for talks about rings and weddings and wedding rings. There's been an attempt on the Commissioner-General's life, and the suspect is on the run, with indications that he had not acted alone and other high-ranking figures within the force might be in danger. This would usually be strictly a Tokyo Metropolitan Police affair, but, due to his personal involvement in the case, Kokonoe has been called to Mobile Investigation for back-up.
This is the first time he's meeting up with Shima and Ibuki in a little more than a month, and he notices the ring as soon as Ibuki raises his hand to give him a salute. For the rest of the day, as they discuss strategy and kickstart the manhunt for the culprit, he will occasionally stare at Ibuki with wide eyes, or glance back and forth between him and Shima, trying to understand.
“What’s on your mind?”
Jinba breaks the ice during their quick lunch-slash-dinner break in the action, taken while they're all on the field and nothing much has happened, yet. They're parked near a bridge, and the view is nice. It feels nostalgic.
“Jinba-san…” Kokonoe is moved. It's been a while since they've been able to talk like this; being so busy, he hasn't even been going for drinks with anyone. “Did Ibuki-san ever mention having a girlfriend?”
“Not a word.” Jinba shakes his head. “You’d think we’d know, huh? He isn't exactly shy about this kind of thing.”
“Something about this is strange.”
Pensive, Jinba nods. There's a slight pause before he says, “I have a theory. No, it's more of a feeling, but…”
He hesitates, but Kokonoe meets his eyes with so much expectation that he can't help but continue.
“I tried to squeeze some info outta’ him,” Jinba admits solemnly. “Asked where he'd found a girl that matches his crazy. He just answered something like, ‘it was a fateful meeting’.”
“Evasive,” Kokonoe analyzes, so focused there could be sweat forming on his forehead.
“I knew then that he wouldn't answer if I asked him stuff directly, so I tried to catch him off-guard. I said, ‘just don't tell me you'll arrive at the ceremony in that melon bread van instead of a limo!’” The gravity in Jinba's eyes intensifies. “Can you guess what he said next?”
“That it was a good idea?”
“Not just that. He was ecstatic. He said, ‘that's so genius! I gotta ask darling about it ASAP!’”
Kokonoe's eyes go wide.
“Darling? That's…” He snorts, “that's so sappy!”
“Very sappy. But that's not all, is it?”
Kokonoe thinks. He thinks. And something comes up. “‘Darling’ as a term of endearment is usually used by the wife towards the husband, isn't it? In contrast with ‘honey’, which usually designates the wife.”
“Bingo,” Jinba points a finger up, ringing an imaginary bell. “I am eighty-percent sure Ibuki's partner is a man.”
That opens Kokonoe's eyes to a different reality; a brand-new perspective to look at the world from. “There's a chance the other party is female and he just calls his girlfriend ‘darling’ because he wants to, or for some other reason. But if he's engaged to another man, it'd make sense why he's not showing his fiancé off.”
“I've heard that, in gay couples, both parties wear engagement or promise rings. In straight couples, usually only the woman wears it.” The pure self-satisfaction of a detective who just solved a case takes over Jinba's posture. “I'm pretty confident about this. Which then begs the question—”
The radio interrupts their discussion. A man matching the description of the suspect almost to a T has been seen walking around Kabukicho in a suspicious manner. All units must approach the area inconspicuously to try and catch him off guard.
“Which then begs the question,” Jinba repeats once they've strapped in and started the engine, “where did he find a guy that can match his crazy?”
Kokonoe has a guess that he keeps to himself.
Kikyo has caught wind of it, of course.
She observes as the gossip takes absurd proportions around the office the longer the subject stays unclarified; the bride takes many identities, like a superior's daughter, a single mother recovering from tragedy, a supposed childhood friend… she'd love, more than anything else, to put an end to it with some stern warnings and a call for reflection on how irresponsibly speculating about someone's love life can be hurtful and cruel.
She doesn't do that because she knows it'd be useless, and also because she knows Ibuki, with his supernatural sense of hearing, can actually hear every word being said about him. If even the impetuous Ibuki has chosen not to act to put a stop to the rumors, she figures there must be a reason.
There's something else, though. Something that makes her a little anxious.
“Reports on the Chiyoda Line case.” The hands handing her the pile of papers are pale and unadorned. As they've always been, for as long as she remembers.
Of course, just because Ibuki is wearing a compromise or engagement or whatever ring, it doesn't necessarily mean… but still, she always thought…
She wants to ask, but doesn't know how.
“Good work today, Shima.” She nods and accepts the papers, posture steady, but a little more tense than usual. She takes an analytical look at him. He looks… he looks as he usually does. If there's anything different about him, it’s the jacket. He's been more into sporty jackets like jerseys and hoodies these days. “You and Ibuki can go home.”
“Right. Thank you, Chief. I'll be taking my leave.”
Nothing. It's all as it always is.
Was she mistaken?
A sunday comes, one which turns into another one of the now semi-regular Uncle Shima and Big Bro Ibuki lunchtime visits to her home, per Yutaka's insistent pleading and Mugi's encouragement. It's bound to be a little awkward for Kikyo herself, but it's Yutaka – she can't help but agree to it in the end.
She manages to perfectly hide her uneasiness as they eat Mugi's delicious vegetable tempura with a variety of pasta dishes on the side, chatting animatedly about incidents at work and stories of old, Yutaka playing to his heart's content on Uncle Shima's lap, the spoiled little thing he is. If any of them find her often glancing at The Band throughout the meal, they don't comment on it.
“Shima, what's this?” Yutaka asks suddenly, interrupting a conversation about a time Jinba had chased a suspect into a temple and gotten in trouble with the priests for it. “A necklace?”
Kikyo tilts her head to take a better look at what her son was doing. He'd been fiddling with the collar of Shima's button-up, and now had his tiny hands tangled in some sort of black cord.
“Yep.” Shima answers simply, smiling playfully. “What do you think? Do I look cool?”
“Huuuh, I thought necklaces were for girls,” Yutaka says, sounding disappointed. He tugs on the necklace a little more, pulling it into full view from where it'd been tucked under the collar, revealing a small silver pendant…
No, it's not a pendant.
A tight knot deep in Kikyo's stomach comes undone. She almost lets out a sigh.
“Style is for everyone, I'll have you know that,” Shima jokingly scolds Yutaka. “There might come a day when you want to wear one of these too. I bet it'd look good on you.”
“Yikes! No way!” Yutaka rejects the idea, and Ibuki immediately bursts out laughing.
“Yikes, he says. That's a total rejection, Shima!” He’s laughing so hard he can barely speak.
“Yutaka, don't be rude,” Kikyo scolds, but she’s too relieved to put any bite in it.
“You might change your mind when you're older,” Mugi is always there to offer a softer word after Kikyo's own; they act effortlessly like a stick and a carrot.
“That’s right, Yutaka. Maybe someday you'll want to get matching accessories with your bae!” Ibuki teases, clasping his hands together and making exaggerated kissy faces. Shima immediately snorts.
“Your bae? Seriously? Don't ever use that word again.”
“Ugh, fine, you whine-a-noid. I like darling better, anyway,” Ibuki leers, propping up his chin on his left hand, and the slyness in his smile is covert, subtle, but Kikyo catches it anyway.
So she hadn't been mistaken after all.
Thank goodness.