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imurasakaw · 1 year

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first impressions

redstarling, 1.9k, set a little over 5 years ago. pre-relationship.

•••••••

When Jodie found Special Agent Akai, he was, as the Special Agent in Charge had blithely suggested with a wave of his hand, in the break room, smoking.

“You’re not supposed to smoke in here,” she said, feeling the irritation rising, her patience already frayed from a rankling encounter minutes ago out in the office area.

Agent Akai looked up from his phone, cigarette dangling from his lips, nonplussed. He was slouched against the wall next to the trash can. And as Jodie got a better look at him, she grew even more unimpressed. Long hair that came down just past the shoulders—against regulations. A well-worn leather jacket with some noticeable scuffs and tears—dress code violation. As for the smudges of almost bruised-looking shadows and sunken bags under his eyes, she uncharitably decided were likely due to late nights spent smoking and drinking himself into a stupor at a pub. She knew the type; she grew up around the type.

No wonder the SAC asked her to come fetch him—she might have a glowing recommendation from Assistant Special Agent in Charge James Black, but she was still just a probationary agent, and newbies got crap detail. And this man? This man appeared to be a real piece of work. She couldn’t believe someone like this was an FBI agent. She couldn’t believe someone like this could remain an FBI agent.

He hadn’t said a thing since she entered the room, eyeing her in silence instead. She shook her head to herself, and proceeded with what she was sent to do. “Special Agent Akai? The Special Agent in Charge is requesting you in his office,” she announced, putting her hands on her hips, trying to project authority. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your presence.”

The man tilted his head ever so slightly. “Who are you?” he asked.

Jodie took a quelling breath before replying. “I am Special Agent Jodie Starling. I’ve just been assigned here to the New York Field Office today.”

“Ho…” Akai dragged out the single syllable into an idiosyncratic expression of emotion that was, objectively speaking, neutral in tone, yet Jodie couldn’t help but sense a hint of derision. “You’re the new probie?”

She bristled at the belittling moniker, but bore it. It wasn't the first time and until she proved herself to everyone else in the office, it wouldn’t be the last; she knew that. “Yes.”

“How old are you?”

She frowned and crossed her arms, not liking where this was headed. “I don’t see how that is related to the issue at hand, or any of your business.”

“You seem young for this position. That’s all.”

This time, Jodie had to physically swallow down the defensive flare of temper that threatened to disrupt the evenness of her voice. In her mind, she heard all the insinuations that weren't being said. How did someone like you get this position? What connections do you have? Who did you have to bribe or fuck? “I assure you, they would not have assigned me to the Violent Crimes Unit of New York City had I not been qualified.”

Akai’s expressionless, studying gaze did not waver, and as Jodie stared right back, she was beginning to feel as though it was a competition, or perhaps a test, and she did not like it, not from this man who looked like he should model the “Before” picture of an agent rehabilitation program’s brochure.

Finally, just as Jodie had about had enough, Akai seemed to come to some conclusion within his own head, chin dipping in the slightest hint of a nod. “Can I call you Jodie?”

“You may call me Special Agent Starling,” Jodie snapped.

The corners of his lips ticked up, ever so faintly, and the realization hit Jodie that he was probably just trying to get a reaction out of her. It made her feel even worse, because she had met no shortage of men like that, had encountered a group of men like that just minutes ago, her new colleagues. Men who would never view her as their equal in competence and ability, who would bait and provoke and taunt just to see her lose her cool—and she had just lost this round with this Agent Akai.

And now that the root of anger and humiliation had taken hold, it was even harder to keep it in check.

“Well, if you’ve had your fun,” she forced, hearing the bitter tremor in her own voice and feeling the rising sting of indignation clog her throat with heat, “are you capable of following orders, or do I have to report back that Special Agent Akai could not be bothered to part from his nicotine fix?”

She took some measure of satisfaction at seeing Akai blink, his self-possessed composure disrupted for all but a second.

He paused to consider his next words. “I had not meant to insult you,” he said, almost carefully.

How farcical. “Hadn’t you?” Her words were clipped—as far as she saw it, he had not done anything to deserve courtesy.

His brows twitched in displeasure.

“You can go tell the SAC, then,” he said, looking away, “that I will be there soon”—he took another drag on his cigarette, and smoke furled out alongside his next blasé words—“if he has anything new to say to me this time.”

And what she did then—she knew it was rude, beyond rude—but slapped in the face with that man’s flippancy and his flagrant insubordination against a superior’s demand that would’ve gotten most disciplined if not fired, her self control splintered.

She strode forward in four brisk steps and yanked the lit cigarette from his mouth.

She would later learn that, at that time, Akai had just come off of a three-month-long deep undercover stint in a local crime ring, and that it was with an adamantine force of will that he managed to smother a reflex for violence into a barely-there flinch, but in that moment, she attributed his lack of response as yet another sign of either his ineptitude or his total disdain for her. The flicker of surprise in his eyes had been quickly suppressed, and he regarded her now with stony composure, as though an adult rebuking a wild, recalcitrant child: What do you think you’re doing? His hand that had been raised to his mouth, now empty, fell slowly into a crossed-arm position across his chest.

“You…” She wanted to scream. Am I not enough for any of you to even take me seriously? Is a child all you’ll treat me as?

Then, a more sombering thought struck: Is that all I am acting like? A child? Throwing a tantrum because she isn’t being noticed?

The cigarette in her hand kept burning in the severe silence—until the lit end finally singed her skin.

The sudden pain wrenched her fully back to reality.

“I—” she began, the steam of her anger lost, a train sputtering to a stop. She took one step backwards. The cigarette lay on the linoleum floor between them, where she had dropped it in shock. “Agent Akai, I apologize,” she made herself say, face hot with shame. “My actions just now were totally out of line.”

Her father had always told her, ever since she could remember, to not let anyone tread all over her; however, he had also taught her that, when the injury was not grievous, a noble person knew to turn the other cheek. And, divested of her father’s presence so early in her life, she had tried hence to cling hard onto every word, every doctrine, his teachings all the more precious for its scarcity. Her anger had just made her lose sight of it all, and now she stood there, beating herself up.

Something in Akai’s flinty demeanor softened.

He extended a hand, palm up, and she realized he was asking for the cigarette back. She swallowed, her pride balking against the act. But, there was no denying it, she thought; the one squarely in the wrong here was her.

She knelt and picked up the still-lit cigarette, and passed it over.

As he plucked it out from between her fingers, on his hands, she saw knuckles that evidenced years of regular martial arts training and combat, saw scars and old injuries and gun calluses.

This close, she can tell that her previous assessments of the agent, colored by personal animus and prejudice, had been wildly incorrect. Contrary to what she had assumed to be the case, she could now see that Akai was well-built under that scuffed leather jacket, and the marks on his hands said that this wasn’t a body cultivated in a gym to be looked at but something to be used. Even his slouch, indolent though it might seem, was controlled. It brought to mind the image of a panther—it might lounge lazily up on the branch of a cypress tree, but its muscles would always be ready to coil and pounce.

This was not some derelict who fancied himself a tough, daredevil guy—this was a true field agent, through and through.

Hadn’t she fallen prey to the very thing she hated others doing to her?

She swallowed again, and tasted something that was not quite humiliation and not quite apprehension. She forced herself to look up and meet Akai’s eyes again, but there, instead of the reprobation or animosity she had expected, she found with surprise a hint of a smile.

She noticed suddenly how startlingly green his eyes were, and how, when not overshadowed by a dour expression, his features, angular and striking and sharp, were exceptional.

“Well, as you said,” he said, “I am not supposed to smoke in here.” He reached to the table beside him for a plastic cup that held about a half-inch of water, and dropped into it the cigarette he had just gotten back. The cigarette fizzled and went out. Then, he tossed the whole thing into the trash. “So, how about we say the blame here was fifty-fifty”—he reached out a hand, and that ghost of a smile solidified into, nearly, a real one—“and call it even, Agent Starling?”

He did not have to give her an out, nor offer her the olive branch. But here he was, extending a hand to her, affording her the choice of whether or not to accept.

I had not meant to insult you, he had explained, and she had spat in his face, thinking it a flimsy cop-out. Now she thought she might have been incorrect in her judgment of that, too. Perhaps she had just gotten too ingrained in the habit of looking for mockery, even when there was none.

She reached out and grasped his hand. His shake was firm, and his hand, unlike how the man himself had seemed at first sight, was warm. “Agent Akai.”

He nodded at her, once, in acknowledgment, in respect. “Welcome to the team.”

•••••••

[extra snippet, probably takes place during/after they work on a case together.]

“You need not be so defensive. You’re better than the majority of the rest of them out there. You have nothing to prove.”

“You don’t get it.” Of course he didn’t; he didn’t have people whispering behind his back that he only got here because he’s pretty and fucking someone higher up the line. Probably. “Proving myself and establishing myself as an outstanding agent is the only way I can get access to the files and data and resources that I need.” Realizing how that might sound, she added, “There’s someone that I’m looking for. That I need to find.”

The moment she mentioned that she’s on the hunt for someone, his demeanor shifted, ever so slightly.

“Long-lost family member?” he suggested, casually, but she thought she could hear an undertone of intrigued commiseration.

“No,” she replied flatly. “The opposite. The woman who murdered my entire family.”

#redstarling #jodie starling #akai shuuichi #detective conan #this came out of me thinking about what jodie might have been like when she was a bit younger #a young jodie who was a rookie agent just starting out #who had so much she wanted to do and achieve but not yet the means to #and being so young she would probably also have been looked down upon and dismissed #and she would have felt like she had a lot to prove #(she would have been 22-23 five+ years ago which is barely past the FBI minimum age req. usually agents start out in their mid-20s)#thinking about how she eventually grew to be more assured in herself as she is now #and we don't have too much information on how she grew up after her parents' death but i can't imagine it being all roses and rainbows #i think akai would have liked her drive and seriousness and fire #and they would have bonded over their similar yet in a way opposite goals #ficlets #anyways now that i’ve got that out of me! back to our regularly scheduled content #i.e. losing my mind over whiskey trio

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