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24 June 2013 @ 08:45 pm
A short fic for a fandom I picked up during my LJ hiatus  
It's been on AO3 for a while, but I figured I might as well add it to my personal archive here too. On the off-chance anyone happens to be in this fandom, feel free to point me towards comms if any exist. XD (You should be in this fandom. It's epic. I have two other WIPs for it but I guess they're temporarily on hold now that my feels have been hit by Metal Gear to the extreme again. Anyway, here goes.)

Title: Killing Indecision

Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)

Characters: Kono Kalakaua/Adam Noshimuri

Rating: SFW, no warnings

Summary: A cramped hospital room is no place to make big revelations.

Notes: Set right after Kono’s last conversation with Adam in 3x23. It was a little speculation fic while waiting for the season finale, and I'm pleased the finale didn't throw it straight into "that makes no sense now" territory. (Granted, I copped out of that risk mostly by not giving it a definite ending one way or the other, BUT OH WELL.)

Disclaimer: I’m selling nothing; no copyright infringement intended.

Killing Indecision

And then his phone rang. His phone rang in stereo.

Curiosity turned into a cold-edged sense of betrayal as Adam took a step toward the source of the sound, disregarding privacy, disregarding everything for a few seconds except the desperate urge to find out. He surprised even himself by how calmly he held the twin phones next to each other, evaluating. No tremor in his hands, but he guessed that the well-practiced look of calm appraisal he’d normally wear regardless of whether or not he actually felt it was slipping.

“We need to talk.”

Adam had never liked that phrase—it signaled trouble, usually trouble he would be stuck resolving. But as he processed those matching numbers, he figured that, clearly, this time he was not the only one who had to make adjustments.

Make amends.

He’d been making amends for months now—about “the business,” his father’s legacy, his brother’s criminally frustrating stubbornness that was just starting to be a bit too literal for comfort. Then there was his own inability to ever be direct about what he was attempting to do, except in transactions with people who only made him appear more suspect to Kono and her friends. What leg did he have to stand on, if the rest of them had this much reason to think he was Yakuza still?

Kono must have been worried enough about that particular scenario to investigate further, and got herself shot because of Adam no matter how anyone tried to slice it. She had thought it necessary to look. Was it surprising she’d done some research before launching what amounted to a rogue covert op?

The phones fell silent in Adam’s hands, synchronized. He stared at them for a long moment as though willing them to disappear, then reluctantly dropped Kono’s right back among her things.

He didn’t blame her, not really. Or at least not only.


Asking him to start explaining himself was a tall order now there was physical proof that he hadn’t been the only one with secrets. It was almost amusing how much this reminded him of police procedure where a discovery like this would normally be reason to celebrate—a case closed, a puzzle pieced neatly together. Truth to be told, Kono’s recent behavior around him, tense and on a perpetual lookout, made perfect sense in this double-edged context of being both the concerned partner and the inventive spy. In a way, it was almost a relief to know why.

But the sleuthing could have been on an assignment. What if the whole thing…

He shut that thought down with a force usually reserved for regrets about the family and stuffed it into the same mental black box. No way that was it. Back when they first got involved, Kono had believed he was cleaning up his act, or was at least trying. These suspicions were recent and far from unprovoked. The rest couldn’t be that obvious, that…instrumental.

Or he wouldn’t still be here, mulling over it all and feeling so damn helpless.

“Don’t leave, okay?”

He wasn’t going to, was he?