The Man Who Ran Off With The Moon - [ Tsukkiyama Art Thief AU! ]

Opening the Eye

"Who are you guys?"

The head caterer frowned at Tsukishima and Kuroo as they came to collect plates from the makeshift staging area that had been set up in the lecture hall downstairs. "Temp workers", Kuroo quickly replied, trying to sound as neutral as possible. The man suspiciously examined the pair, finding satisfaction with the disinterested, overworked look of Tsukishima. Kuroo got a second glance. "Take your earrings out, this isn't a carnival", the head caterer grumbled to him before thrusting a tray of champagne into each of their arms. The two men went up the stairs, carefully balancing the glasses. "This is way harder than it looks", Kuroo muttered as he nearly knocked his tray over. Tsukishima ignored him.

In 15 minutes, as dinner was being served, the power was scheduled to cut out. After they had set up the tables, before the guests had arrived, Kuroo had went on a 'bathroom' break. He had quickly slipped into the control room during the security rotation and overrode the system with the password data they collected from the camera.

Two guards were stationed outside the room where the small banquet was being held. One nodded to the pair as they entered. Kuroo nodded back, carefully stepping, a little bit too slowly out of fear of toppling the glasses again.

Tsukishima lightly tapped him with his foot, Get your shit together.

Inside, the Eye of the Moon gleamed softly from its case. A long white table cut the center of the room, populated by men and women in suits and gowns, the finer politicians, museum board members, and sports officials of Japan's political body. The reception was an alleged evening to promote a higher integration of arts and athletics for Japanese youth. Bokuto sat at the head of the table, next to Akaashi, speaking loudly to the director of the Tokyo National Museum, Zeniya Masami. From the look on Masami's face and his small, polite nods, he seemed to be wearily regretting the event. When Bokuto noticed Tsukishima and Kuroo's entrance, he choked on his drink. Akaashi quickly hit him on the back, reminding his fiance to keep his cool.

Tsukishima knew it was probably best to limit interactions between Kuroo and Bokuto as much as possible, so he was the one to serve the champagne to their friend's end of the table.

"Thank you so much, Tsu-Sir. Sir. The, uh, service has been excellent tonight."

Tsukishima glared daggers into Bokuto, before bowing his head in thanks and exiting the room. He and Kuroo met back in the hallway. Kuroo lifted his watch, "Seven minutes."

Seven minutes. The lights would go off. Kuroo would apply the solution in the dark, in the confusion, and grab the gem. Then, they would sprint to where the car was waiting for them. They returned downstairs to wait for instruction to bring in the dinner plates. Each minute felt like an eternity, a slow, aching crawl of impending doom. Tsukishima's heart was pounding in his chest. He did his best to breath slowly and evenly. He thought of Yamaguchi, Yamaguchi's rough hands, his smile, the way that he would laugh so softly. For you.

As the plates were being divided, the head caterer pointed to him, "Hey, Temp, you stay behind in case any extra silverware needs to be brought up."

Tsukishima looked at Kuroo, his eyes wide with panic, as the other was being ushered out the door. Tsukishima mumbled an affirmative, but the minute that the man's back was turned, he darted out to the stairwell, cornering one of the other waiters. "Here, here. I got it."

The waiter, who couldn't have been a boy older than twenty, shrugged. "Nah, man, it's cool, I-"

"No, really. I got it.", Tsukishima grinned in the most unfriendly way possible. The waiter before him gave him a look and wordlessly passed over the tray, shoving his hands in his pockets with an air of confusion and contempt. He caught Kuroo's gaze as he proceeded upwards, his hand making a discreet gesture of a three. Three minutes. Three minutes. He felt like he was walking on a tightrope past the guards, past the blank faces of the other waiters, into the room that held the gem, that glittering, watchful eye. He wanted to shrink under it's gaze, to turn and get as far away from here as possible. Tsukishima set down his plates in front a couple, but their gratitude was just ringing in his ears, a high pitched whine. Kuroo caught his eyes. His face seemed to say, Get your shit together. He nodded. Tsukishima returned the subtle gesture, the tension in his body swiftly fading.