Chapter Text
It’s like this: the Snaps have won two rounds out of three in the match, but it’s too soon to celebrate; the opposing team - the Quicksilvers - can still clinch a victory with a team knockout. The Snaps are tired, and it’s entirely possible a few well-timed hits could lose them everything. Both teams know it. Fire is flying, sweat is pouring, and tensions are high. This suspense is what the audience lives for.
(It’s what Akihito lives for, too.)
But something about this round feels different. It’s not until a clay disk whizzes dangerously past Akihito’s ear for about the sixth time, that he’s convinced something’s up with the ref.
Akihito had let the first few cheap shots go, knowing that a healthy number of tricks are expected in these unofficial bending matches. Kou had wind-walled some fire blasts that had dragged on a second too long to be legal. Even Takato had tripped a few people up with ice across the Quicksilvers’ water grates. It’s fine .
But after Akihito is forced to duck away from another attack clearly aimed at his face, he’s ready to rip somebody’s arms off. Preferably the earthbender across the court who seems intent on bouncing clay disks off his head.
“This game is FUCKED.” Kou snarls, equally frustrated, as Akihito steps from behind him and retaliates with his own potent fire punch. His attack flies across center field and nails the offending earthbender in the shoulder, causing the stocky woman to spin on her heel and stumble.
Akihito barely has time to release a cheeky laugh before he’s diving to the ground to avoid a fireball from the Quicksilvers’ own firebender, aimed directly at him. Takato’s already there, though, pulling water from the grates on their end of the field to shield Akihito from the heat. The fireball meets Takato’s water wall with a hiss, and steam blows back into Aki’s face. He clicks his tongue in annoyance as his visor fogs. He supposes he deserved that for stepping from out of his cover.
There’s a swell of noise and excitement from the crowd around them at Akihito’s near encounter with peril - he doesn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes.
Akihito is a good firebender. No, scratch that, he’s a great firebender. He has to be, when the Snaps don’t have a heavy-hitting earthbender to even their offense out. With only three members allowed per team, not many have airbenders, and even fewer use them defensively. Takato, their waterbender, compensates by being versatile in both offense and defense - and Aki usually takes point due to his physical flexibility. That means Akihito has to be loud and flashy as well as forceful, and more often than not, Takato has to cover him when he extends too far.
Right on time, Takato nags, “Get your ass up!” before shooting a spray of water tauntingly at the opposite team and fixing his stance.
Akihito throws a tiny glance at the referee as he rolls to his feet. As expected, the black-clad man isn’t sparing the Quicksilvers a glance. Instead the ref’s eyes are trained on Aki’s team, his hand ready with a yellow card to deal a penalty at the smallest foul.
Fucker.
The Quicksilver firebender has clearly concluded that Akihito is out of his league, instead focusing the majority of his strikes at Kou. Takato and the other waterbender are going toe-to-toe, sending vicious attacks each other’s ways. Takato is slightly faster, however, and he manages to neutralize and deflect just about everything thrown at him. Aki’s team is doing okay for now, but they’re going to have to be careful if the ref is against them - he flashes a hand sign behind his back, signaling his partners to return to their defensive formation. They just need to last until the timer runs out.
There’s a brief pause in the fight as both teams regroup.
Akihito returns his gaze to their opponents, falling into stance as he makes quick work of reading them. The Quicksilvers’ gear is covered with obnoxious silver spray paint; the visors covering their eyes make them look nearly identical, their only distinctive features being the colored sashes tied around their waists - the same that Akihito’s team wears. Aki bears the red of a firebender, Takato in blue, and Kou with yellow. They lack the green of an earthbender, the green on the woman across the ring who has been making Akihito’s life hell the past few minutes. She’s got a cocky smile on her face, clearly visible below the eyeshield, and her shoulders roll back as she prepares to launch another onslaught of disks at them.
“Cover me.” Akihito says to Kou, glancing to the side just in time to see Takato blasted in the chest with water and fire, merging to create a powerful steam strike. There’s no doubt in Aki’s mind that the Quicksilver’s waterbender used the water from the Snaps’ end of the field to have attacked so quickly - an illegal move - but there’s no time to react. Takato is flung, the force of the pressurized steam sending him flying backwards. His body rolls and comes to a stop outside of the third ring, and stays there.
“Knockout!” The ref calls and raises a red card. Takato is out for the round, and therefore the rest of the game. The audience roils.
“Damn it!” Kou curses, kicking out to deflect a disk. There are two however, one hiding in the shadow of the other, and the errant one grazes Akihito’s jaw before he spots it.
“You’re mine, Firewhip!” The opposing earthbender taunts, and Aki’s decided he’s had just about enough of her.
Signaling to Kou that he’ll be relying on him to deflect any water attacks that come his way, Akihito steps dangerously close to the center line, exposing himself but giving him better reach into their opponent’s side of the playing field. Fire attacks are more forceful at close range, he knows, but instead of shooting off the blast attack that the other team is probably expecting, Aki summons two tendrils of fire that he appears to grab before lashing them into the Quicksilver’s first zone, long enough to reach the far edges of the centermost area.
This is one of his signature moves as well as the source of his nickname - Firewhip - and it has the intended effect of making all three enemy benders abort their attacks and dance away from the licking flames. This buys Kou a few precious seconds to slide in behind Akihito and kick out with a low air blast, which catches their firebender off guard and sends the man tumbling into the second zone when his knees are knocked out from under him.
The crowd around them cheers at the Snap’s successful combination move, but the cheers quickly morph into an excited shout as the Quicksilver’s waterbender retaliates by sending a surging wave directly at the two of them, clearly hoping to catch the both of them while they’re gathered together and sweep them out of the ring for a team knockout.
Akihito instinctively punches down with his arms and releases a controlled blast of fire, propelling himself high into the air into a backflip. Kou instead spins in an almost breakdance-like fashion out of the path of the wave, carried by the wind which takes him dangerously close to the far edge of their first zone. This is a calculated risk, and it backfires on the airbender when the Quicksilver earthbender brazenly sends a clay disc directly into the side of Kou’s head mid-maneuver.
Kou cries out and falls into the second zone, his yell of pain drowned out by the jeers of the crowd upon watching the clearly illegal move. The referee blows his whistle and raises a yellow card - and a lightning bolt of anger shoots through Aki when he sees it’s a penalty not for the Quicksilvers, but the Snaps.
“Illegal maneuver - maximum height exceeded!” The man in black calls out, referencing Akihito’s earlier backflip, “The Snap’s firebender will retreat to the second zone.”
Akihito’s jaw drops angrily at the blatant favoritism, and glares at the black-clad man who watches the firebender with his chin jutted out. Aki doesn’t immediately move, vibrating with fury, and the referee brandishes the yellow card menacingly.
“Want to make it the third zone?” The old man threatens, and Akihito resists the urge to flip him off as he spins on his heel and stomps to the second ring inside the circular arena without a word.
Seriously, fuck that guy.
The Snaps win in the end, though, on a technicality.
During the remainder of the last round, Kou had been knocked back to the third zone and Akihito had managed to hold on to the second. And as the minutes had ticked down closer and closer towards the end of the match, the Quicksilvers’ attacks got even more desperate and questionably legal. The referee hadn’t called out any of them, of course, and by the time the buzzer blared to signal the end of the game, Akihito was certain his body looked like a masterpiece of bruises and burns underneath his soaked maroon uniform.
Even so, the opposing team hadn’t gotten the team knockout they needed to win the game, and in the end the Snaps clinched victory after having won the majority of the three rounds.
In the locker room showers, Akihito’s team nurses their wounds.
“That earthbender better pray I never pass her in the street.” Akihito mutters darkly as he scrubs the sweat from his hair, his arms throbbing in exhaustion. “That referee, too. Shady asshole.”
Kou sits on a nearby bench with an ice pack held to his bruised temple, still looking a little dazed from the head-tap. Takato paces the locker room looking like a caged tiger, no doubt frustrated at himself that he’d been knocked out so early in the last round. The waterbender, while usually laid-back, tended to beat himself up for any small mistake after their matches. It usually took Kou and Aki forcing a few drinks into him to get him to relax.
“Well, at least we got the prize money.” Kou says eventually, his voice a little fainter than usual. “What’s fifty thousand yen divided three ways? Thinking is hard right now.”
“Not enough for the shit we just went through,” Akihito quips bitterly as he finishes washing and shuts off the shower. He wraps a towel around his waist and steps into the small locker room where his teammates wait, before pausing and casting a worried glance at Kou when he sees how pale the airbender is. “You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
“Nah,” Kou replies, “I’ve had concussions before, this is nothing. Just a little headache.”
It isn’t the first time one or more of them has gotten injured in a match, but such is the nature of amateur ‘Pro’-bending, affectionately called Underground-bending by the community. Televised games in the major leagues could be counted on to have squeaky-clean refs and play-by-play reviews to make sure all the rules were adhered to. But in these Underground matches, a little dirty fighting isn’t just permitted, but expected - to an extent. It’s something Akihito usually enjoys, but in cases like these where the referee had had it out for his team or had been bribed (or both), he ended up feeling sore and sour by the end of the game.
The three of them finish recuperating about fifteen minutes later and decide to get their customary post-match drink at the nearby hole-in-the-wall bar. They could usually count on some of the match spectators to be there as well, and their fans were always generally happy to buy them a round or two of beer whether they won or lost.
As they exit the warehouse that had long ago been repurposed as an unofficial arena, however, they’re surprised to see a small entourage waiting for them outside at the back door: a group of four men, clearly a stooge and his bodyguards.
It’s almost laughably stereotypical: three muscled brutes who look like bouncers stand in a defensive formation (Aki knows one when he sees one) around a more slender, suited man. The stooge’s hair is cropped short, and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses sits delicately upon his nose. Before Aki can let out the snide remark at the tip of his tongue, something along the lines of well this should be good , Glasses steps forward and gives a controlled bow with his head.
“Congratulations on the win, gentlemen,” Glasses greets in a diplomatic tone. “That match was quite hard-won.”
Immediately, this man gives Aki the ick. He likes to think he’s always been good at reading people, and something in Glasses’ eyes tells him right away that this man is a snake. Nevermind the glaringly out-of-place expensive watch, tailored suit, and menacing babysitters - it’s the eyes that dart between Aki and his teammates, coldly assessing and measuring, that tells the firebender that this man is more than he tries to appear.
Kou, ever the most polite amongst their trio, returns the bow and counters with a neutral “Oh, you were watching? Thank you for your patronage.” Anyone who enters the warehouse has to pay a fee, so if Glasses and his group had been inside, their money now lines the Snaps’ pockets (after the match organizers had taken their cut, of course).
“My name is Kirishima Kei,” Glasses says, which Akihito promptly forgets. As the man introduces himself, the bodyguards pull out business cards and hand one to each of the Snaps in unison. “I am a representative of the Sion Corporation. We specialize in consultation and holdings, but to cut right to the chase, we’re looking to expand into other industries and attract new clientele. As such, we’re looking to sponsor a Pro-team to increase our public presence, and are seeking an appropriate group of benders to fit our needs.”
“Uh, you should probably go talk to some Pro-benders then.” Aki says, his voice flat with suppressed irritation. “We’re Underground. Not exactly the same as the Big League benders, as I’m sure you saw.”
The corner of Glasses’ mouth twitches upwards as his gaze settles on Akihito. “On the contrary,” he replies, “Your team displayed a professional level of flexibility and skill, as well as exceptional teamwork obviously borne from diligent practice. And you played a clean game. Not that you had a choice with how the referee was conducting the match.”
Takato shakes his head. “We definitely used some tricks of our own, but that’s not unusual in the Underground. We’re not clean in the slightest.”
“From what I saw, your techniques in the last game were nothing that would raise eyebrows in a Pro-bending arena,” Glasses counters, “Plus, we’re not opposed to the idea of our players being… creative in their strategies, when the need arises. We’ve had our eye on your team for a while. You’ve proved you can think on your feet. With a little bit of polishing, you could Pro-bend with the best of them.”
Akihito snorts. “More like it’s cheaper to register a new team than try to poach an already recognized one away from their current sponsor. Do you even care about how well we can play, or do you just want to rub elbows with the big shots?”
“Such is not the case,” Glasses says, voice still annoyingly controlled and proper, “Money is no object to us. Sion Corporation is looking to shake things up and bring some new blood into the sport. We want to cause a stir with a flashy new Pro-bending team to catch the public’s attention, and I’d venture to say that describes your group pretty well.”
The man’s honeyed words have captured the regard of Takato and Kou, but Akihito can only look on with narrowed eyes. His day job as a freelance photojournalist had brought him face-to-face with many shady figures who knew how to say the right things. Politicians, public figures, bankers, fixers… Sion could be connected to any one of them, and Akihito and his friends wouldn’t know who until it was too late, if they weren't careful.
Perhaps detecting the venom in Akihito’s stare, Glasses holds up his hands in a placating gesture and adopts a small but disarming smile.
“You are under no obligation to agree to anything at this moment.” The bespectacled man assures them. “Consider this an invitation to visit Sion at a later time to discuss further details. Please take a week or two to discuss amongst yourselves and consider our proposal.”
“Considerate of you.” Takato replies noncommittally as he inspects the business card in his hands more closely.
Glasses inclines his head towards the waterbender in acknowledgment, before returning his gaze to Akihito. Aki never claimed to be the leader of the Snaps, but for some reason this man seems more concerned with his thoughts on the potential sponsorship than those of his two partners. It makes him want to take another shower despite having taken one only minutes prior.
“With that being said, I would advise against taking too long to make a decision.” Glasses adds suddenly, as if it’s a thought he’d almost forgotten to mention. He checks his watch and holds out his hand to the side, and one of his goons hands him a briefcase. “Your group is not the only one we have considered and approached. We at Sion are hoping to secure a final contract with a team soon. But I’ve taken up much of your time – good evening, gentlemen.”
Kou is kind enough to send the group of men off with a polite bow while Takato continues to consider the business card. Akihito only scowls at all of their suit-covered backs.
Once the coast is clear, without further ado, the three of them are finally able to make their way to the bar - where they are indeed greeted by a larger than usual group of supporters who congratulate them on their victory. Complaining about the referee’s obviously one-sided calls buys them quite a bit of sympathy, and that sympathy buys them quite a bit of beer. By the end of the night, Akihito has nearly forgotten Glasses and his goons. The alcohol takes the edge off of most of his aches as well, and he bitches to anyone who will listen about his new nemesis, the Quicksilver earthbender.
The bar closes at two, and the three Snaps share a taxi to Takato’s condo before Aki and Kou make their way to their own nearby abodes. When Aki lets himself into his studio apartment around three, he immediately strips and collapses into bed.
His jeans, as well as Kirishima Kei’s business card in the back pocket, lay forgotten on the floor.
As they say: When it rains, it pours.
It’s strange how misfortune and difficult circumstances seem to suddenly haunt Akihito and the other members of the Snaps after that day. To think that only a week before, everything had been going well for them.
First, it begins on Wednesday when Akihito’s top client - a local newspaper that frequently bought Aki’s photos, who Aki had carefully been nurturing a professional partnership with over the last year - reaches out to let him know that while they thank him for his hard work, they’ve recently hired an in-house photographer and will no longer need his services.
Then, two days later, Kou sends out a distressed text to his two best friends and teammates, asking to meet with them as soon as possible. The three of them gather at Kou’s family home and hear the news: apparently Kou’s parents - who own a restaurant - have been indebted to a questionable lender for years. This lender had abruptly sold his parents’ debt to a new holder a few days before, and the new debt-collector expected to collect the full remaining amount next month.
Upset but determined, Aki tells Kou that of course he and Takato will help pool together the funds to help his family pay off the debt. But then, a grim-faced Takato announces that actually, his girlfriend found out she was pregnant a month prior, and he’s been trying to gather the courage to ask Kou and Aki if they’d be willing to sign up for more Underground matches so that he could start saving up for his future baby.
The three of them can’t help but have a cry for each other at that meeting, feeling overwhelmed at the sudden life changes and hardships that seem to have hit them all at once. But supporting each other is what they’ve always done best, and they start to strategize.
“I promise I’ll do what I can to help, Kou.” Akihito sniffs after drying his eyes, wrapping his arms around the airbender’s shoulders. “Being a freelancer fucking sucks, though. I’m going to try to find another job soon, and I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks Aki,” says Kou, wiping at his tears. His upset expression morphs into one of awe, then, as he looks at Takato. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad, though.”
“Right? I’m so fucking scared.” Takato chuckles, but it sounds empty. “You guys will be great uncles… I might be a shit father, but, I guess we’ll see.”
The three of them, having gathered in Kou’s childhood bedroom, sit around each other in silence for a long, contemplative minute. All of them stare at a different corner of the room, lost in thought as they process their current collective circumstances. It’s Takato who breaks the stillness.
“Aki, you made several good points about that guy from Sion being a suspicious motherfucker,” the waterbender murmurs, “But… maybe we should meet up with them and see what they’re offering? Even if they’re blowing smoke about us being able to play against the Pros, if they have a decent salary in the contract, then… who cares, right? I don’t mind taking some beatings from Pro-benders and looking bad if it means my kid will have a college fund.” Kou nods in agreement with this, as if he’s thinking the same in regard to his parents.
Aki’s chest tightens in guilt for having railed against Sion earlier that week, without knowing the circumstances of his friends. “I’m not the boss of you guys, you know? You don’t need my permission to meet with Sion if that’s what you need to do.”
Kou butts Akihito’s shoulder with his head. “But we’re a team. We’ve trained together for years, you think we’d go behind your back and meet them without you? This is a three-yes, one-no situation. We won’t split up the Snaps. Just tell us if you absolutely won’t do it, and we’ll figure something else out. Promise.”
But of course Aki can’t say no in that position. He would always want his friends to succeed, even if it meant meeting some rich assholes with questionable motives.
That’s how, a few days later, Akihito finds himself in an entirely too-fancy elevator at the Sion Corporation.
The company building itself is somewhere in the depths of Shinjuku, and when the Snaps step into the building’s lobby, Akihito is enraptured despite himself by the sleek and modern interior design. They stop at the front desk to confirm their appointment with Kirishima Kei himself (Takato is the only one who had saved the man’s business card after their previous meeting, which the lobby security guard holds like it’s a precious artifact), and the three of them are eventually guided to a small elevator behind the desk after the necessary authentications are made.
Akihito only has time to note that there’s a fucking chandelier in the lift before the elevator doors slide closed, and then Aki’s world narrows to the four walls that suddenly seem oppressive and suffocating around him. He tries to control his breathing and focus on the chandelier and mirrored ceiling instead of the walls as the elevator feels like it takes forever to reach its intended floor. He’s not sure how successful he is, and after a few moments, Kou’s hand wraps around his own as Aki tries to breathe in through his nose and exhale quietly through his mouth.
The elevator must be for executive use only, as it makes no stops until it reaches the second highest floor of the office building. Though the elevator is fast, it’s quite a tall building, and Aki doesn't step out so much as fall out when the doors open. He is infinitely grateful to his friends at that moment, who press against either side of him so that his shaking legs don’t collapse under him.
An unexpectedly average-looking businessman meets them as they exit. The trio are led into a nearby office, which is easily the largest singular workspace Akihito’s ever seen. There’s a damn waiting room outside the main suite (offices can apparently have suites, which is news to Aki), and they wait for ten minutes before they’re finally called inside.
Glasses is sitting at a large desk, accompanied by what appears to be a half-dozen chatty lawyers to one side at their own work station. Akihito faintly feels like he’s on trial as he takes the leftmost of three chairs placed in front of the desk, and as he settles into his seat, the din of the room quiets down until everyone silently watches the new arrivals as if waiting for them to speak.
“...Err,” Kou says first after a few seconds, obviously unnerved by the anticipatory atmosphere, “Thank you for the formal invitation to Sion Corporation. I’m glad we had the chance to meet and discuss a possible partnership.”
Glasses looks far too comfortable at his desk as he smiles sharply and steeples his fingers together, leaning forward in his chair. “I am pleased we could meet as well, Hirakawa Kou-san,” he agrees, “After all, Sion was about to extend a contract to another team before you called, but we’re looking for the best - we want to consider all of our options before setting anything in stone.”
Akihito knows manipulative bullshit when he hears it. He sits up straight in his chair, ready to say something distinctly unprofessional, when Takato jumps in to take control of the conversation.
“How truly fortunate that you made time for us, then.” The waterbender says in a flat tone, while giving a smile as sharp as the one they were given. “We know you prefer to get right to the chase, so please allow us to present our own conditions for a possible future sponsorship.”
Takato fishes two binders out of his backpack - one he hands directly to Glasses, the other he passes to the nearby table of lawyers. While the lawyers nearly fall on top of each other to be the first to grab the binder and inspect it, the bespectacled representative of Sion doesn’t even touch his own copy. Instead he glances at the lawyer nearest to him, and within seconds the second binder is also being passed around the legal advisors’ table.
“I’d prefer it if you told me your terms directly, Tachibana Takato-san.” Glasses says frankly, but not unkindly. Ever maintaining the diplomatic persona, the man glances evenly between the three younger men seated before him, looking expectant.
Takato clears his throat and doesn't beat around the bush. “We’re asking for private insurance enrollment, guaranteed workers’ comp in case of injury, two month’s paternity leave in the event that any of us have children.” The waterbender’s voice is even as if he’s negotiated terms of employment in front of a panel of lawyers a million times before. “We’d also like a dedicated trainer, and a permanent training facility if possible. Twenty paid vacation days a year. Finally, a starting yearly salary of no less than ten million yen per year, per player, with guaranteed pay increases in the event of consecutive victories in our matches.”
Glasses’ eyebrows are high by the time Takato is done listing their demands. Akihito’s hackles are raised, ready to not give an inch, and so he’s not really prepared when the bespectacled man says, “That’s all?” in an innocent, questioning tone.
The lawyers as one look to their boss, appearing a little surprised themselves.
Glasses leans back in his seat slightly, looking thoughtful and picking up a tablet that had been resting on the desk in front of him. His eyes move to the screen and he begins to speak.
“Sion is offering full benefits, as you’ve requested. Any injuries you receive in matches or training will be treated at no cost to you, and salary will be paid regardless of necessary medical leave or approved personal days. Sion has recently completed construction on a new training facility, located underground on this campus. We’ve also secured a contract with a former Pro-bending coach, who will conduct training during on and off seasons. The salary itself starts at twenty million yen for each of you, not including bonuses and any commission you make from advertisements or other sub-sponsorships. Depending on performance, raises can be negotiated. We are also happy to negotiate paternity leave as needed, though I wasn’t under the impression any of you were married.”
There’s a brief pause as Glasses looks up from the tablet and glances between them, before he places the device back on the desk and continues. “As for our terms. Upon accepting Sion’s sponsorship, you would be required to rebrand away from your Underground personas, undergo monthly medical check-ups, and shoot any promotional materials requested by future clients. You’ll receive media training for future interviews before your debut, which will take place at the beginning of the season four months from now. As Pro-benders you would be held to very high fitness and dietary standards - Sion will not tolerate any of you partaking in illegal substances either, so if that’d be an issue, best to mention it now.”
Takato shakes his head. “None of us mess with that stuff,” he assures.
“But you probably know that already, don’t you?” Akihito pipes up, unable to suppress the irritation that had been building throughout the exchange. Something was off. He hasn't been able to shake the feeling ever since they'd met Glasses, that the man knew too much but asked too little. “I notice you haven’t mentioned anything about a background check. ‘Not under the impression’ that any of us are married? Give me a break. A big company like you? You’ve probably even got our credit scores, school records, and social media accounts on file in that little tablet of yours, right? You guys wouldn’t be offering us anything unless you already had us investigated and knew what you were getting into.”
Akihito doesn’t like strangers knowing about his past, and the idea of Kirishima Kei possibly holding documents related to his stint in foster care or past police records - maybe even the sealed ones - in his hands, rankles him. He feels exposed and vulnerable, and that makes him mad enough to consider throwing the whole Pro-bending idea away at that moment, even if he knows how badly his friends need it.
And then the ghost of a thought passes through his mind, but it’s horrible enough to stop him cold in his tracks.
His friends do need this contract. All three of them do, very badly. And how convenient for Sion that they’ve all become so desperate at the same time, just as the corporation started trying to convince them to sign on to this sponsorship in the first place.
But trying to think of the collective events of the past week as anything other than an unfortunate coincidence is frightening. Because if all of it hadn’t been pure chance, then it hinted at the influence of something - or someone - more sinister and powerful than Aki could possibly imagine. And what hope did Akihito and his friends even have against that?
“I need some air,” he says, abruptly standing.
He grabs his jacket from the back of his chair, ready to leave and possibly never come back, when the phone on Glasses’ desk starts to ring and stops him in his tracks. Glasses immediately picks it up.
Akihito doesn’t have time to recover from being caught off guard by the telephone’s sudden ringing before the call itself is done, and the bespectacled representative hangs up the phone almost as quickly as he’d answered it.
“Takaba-san,” Glasses says (Akihito realizing faintly that it’s the first time the man has referred to him specifically by name), “Asami-sama would like to speak with you for a moment.”
“…Who the hell is that.” The firebender asks flatly, coming back to himself as his fingers fist into his jacket. At the question, the lawyers’ heads swivel to stare at him, looking owlish.
Glasses raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Asami Ryuichi-sama is the CEO of Sion, his executive office is upstairs. He’s been listening in on this conversation, and he would like to speak to you privately to apologize for any misunderstandings - as well as answer any additional concerns you may have.”
There’s no way the phone call lasted long enough for whoever was on the other end to have said all of that. But, Aki had promised his friends to at least hear Sion out, and now he was getting a chance to speak with the CEO himself. Takato and Kou, who had initially looked a little shocked by Akihito’s outburst, now likewise watch him expectantly with every other occupant of the room.
He thinks about Kou’s parents, and about Takato’s girlfriend and unborn baby.
“Fine,” he grits out, spinning on his heel and stomping towards the door of the office and slamming it shut behind him. “Don’t bother following me. I remember where the ritzy elevator is.”
What Akihito is expecting as he rides to the top floor, is for the CEO to be a wrinkly old man dressed to the nines, just as slimy and a thousand times more cocky than Glasses is. He imagines this old man will offer empty apologies and spin more conniving, manipulative bullshit to convince Akihito that it’s a good idea to sign on with Sion. And he fantasizes how he’s going to tell the older geezer to kiss his ass and forget he’d ever heard of the Snaps in the first place, unless he wanted his office burned to the ground in the middle of the night. Then Aki will go back to his friends and apologize, and explain that he doesn’t think this sponsorship is going to work out, and they’ll find some other way to make ends meet.
Aki visualizes the whole scenario in the two minutes it takes him to travel to the top floor, and he already can’t wait to get it all over with - it’s been a long day.
What he sees when he steps off the elevator into the Executive Suite, however, is not what he expects.
The elevator opens directly into the CEO’s office, which resembles a small apartment. There’s a large and long meeting table in the center of the floor, lined by a dozen (currently empty) chairs. A small kitchenette and a bathroom area are barely visible to the rightmost side, and at the far end of the room sits a hefty desk bigger than Akihito’s bed. More doors sit shut to the left side of the room, too, but the firebender doesn’t have the faintest idea of what could be behind them, nor does he care to wonder.
Two people are immediately visible: the first, a conspicuous suit-clad man with bright blond hair - who must be bigger than a bear if Aki had to guess - standing to the side of the elevator with his hands folded together loosely in front of him. He’s most likely another goon, so Akihito disregards him and focuses on the other figure in the room.
This person, who by process of elimination must be Asami Ryuichi, appears to be a well-built man in his thirties, dressed in a polo shirt and slacks. He lounges against the edge of his desk closest to the window, a lit cigarette in one hand and a manila folder in the other. Even across the room Akihito can tell this man’s face is sharp and conventionally attractive, though there’s an edge of severity to it that keeps him wary.
Asami pores over the folder as Akihito enters, and the man doesn’t look up even as the firebender trudges to the end of the meeting table farthest away from the CEO and stops. Instead, Asami takes a long drag from his cigarette and blows the smoke towards the window, which Aki belatedly realizes is slightly ajar.
“Takaba Akihito,” the CEO suddenly says, his voice deeper than Aki expected it to be. “Twenty-four years old, lifelong resident of Tokyo, Japan. Firebender. Not married. High school diploma but no university degree. In the daytime, a freelance photographer. At night, member of the Underground-bending team, the Snaps. Colloquially known as ‘Firewhip’ amongst fans and the Underground community.”
The man drops the folder on the desk and finally deigns to look at Akihito with deep amber eyes, fixing him with an assessing stare. He takes another drag from his cigarette, and Akihito says nothing as he glares back at the executive with all the venom he can muster.
After a few seconds of Aki’s defiant silence, Asami’s serious expression cracks and the man gives an amused smirk. “Quite the little spitfire, aren’t you?”
Akihito feels like he’s just been slapped in the face. He’d been one hundred percent correct about the cocky prediction at least. Asshole—
Kou’s parents. Takato’s baby. Kou’s parents. Takato’s baby.
Exercising an uncharacteristic level of restraint, Akihito takes a deep, calming inhale and does his best to muster a professional persona. And fails.
“Your henchman said you called me up here to apologize,” he grinds out, shooting daggers from his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready, I’d be happy to hear it.”
Asami puts out his cigarette and stands, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking slow steps to where Akihito has positioned himself. There’s an aura around the CEO that seems to suck in the air around him like a black hole, and Aki swears that it gets harder to breathe as the man stalks closer.
“Apologize for what, exactly?” Asami asks sarcastically, “Knowing how to use Google? I’ll get on my knees and beg for forgiveness shortly. You’d probably enjoy that a bit too much, though.”
Immediately Akihito can feel himself blushing hotly in anger.
“More like apologize for being a shady freak,” he nearly hisses, fingernails digging into his palms. How much does Asami know about him? “We both know you can’t just Google somebody’s marriage status, school records, or their residence history. Not if you don’t have their confidential personal identity information.”
Asami’s face is serious, but Akihito can see a hint of mirth dancing behind his eyes. “Such accusations,” the man muses. “Surely it’s not a bad thing for a prospective employer to do a little research on the people who might be the new faces of his company?”
“We both know you’ve done more than ‘a little research’ on me and my friends, so cut the bullshit.” Akihito feels pissed and steamed, like he might burst into flames. Asami’s said so little but has already gotten so deep under his skin. “Why all the games? Maybe you're just a sadistic bastard.”
The CEO finally reaches where the firebender stands and stops in front of Akihito, staring down at the shorter man curiously. “Don’t you want to be famous?” he asks, ignoring Aki’s question. “Don’t you want money? Connections? Women throwing themselves at you? Or do you prefer men?” Asami sizes him up, all the while maintaining his infuriating little smirk. “What can I offer for you to seriously consider my proposal?”
The words slip out of Akihito’s mouth before he can stop them.
“I want to kick your ass.”
Asami’s smirk grows into a wolfish grin. “Oh my– you want to play with me, Akihito?”
Aki’s face gets impossibly redder at the innuendo underneath Asami’s words, but it doesn’t take away from the rather violent urges the firebender is feeling towards the arrogant man.
“You’ve got a new training facility downstairs, right?” He growls, “Probably sparring gear too, yeah? I wonder if you’d be so cocky after I made you dance you around the ring.”
The amused expression falls from Asami’s face then, and he stares silently at Akihito for several long seconds. Aki fidgets uncomfortably, but he still meets the stare defiantly. The mirth is gone from Asami’s eyes, instead replaced with something more predatory. A desire to own. Hunger.
The sudden switch, and the intensity of Asami's leer, again leave Akihito wondering what the man's true intentions are for the Snaps. Why was Sion's head so determined to not let Aki slip through his fingers? Why did it feel like some kind of obsession?
“Have it your way then.” Asami finally replies, the smirk making a reappearance even as his eyes remain fixed on Akihito’s face. “We can go pick up Kirishima and your teammates, then head to the basement right away. We’ll have a one-on-one match - and if I win, I’ll have the sponsorship contract drawn up, and your signature will be on it by the end of the day. If you win, I’ll throw out your file and pretend like we’ve never met. Sound like a deal?”
Aki hasn’t even had the chance to discuss things with Kou and Takato yet - but more than his one signature would be required to contract their team anyway, and his two partners could always decline to sign if they decided that they didn’t like what Sion was offering. More than anything right now, though, Aki wants to wipe the arrogant expression off of Asami’s face and prove to the man - and maybe to himself - that the firebender can’t be caught or pushed around so easily.
He juts out his chin and regards Asami with a final, challenging glare, and makes his choice.
“You’re on.” He says, and the deal is struck.