Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Desperate people, that is what humans are. Spending and wasting their lives away to find a purpose in them. To make them seem less insignificant. Most people are doomed to mediocrity, and very few lives fulfill the search for significance, leave a legacy behind, and forever mark their name in the history books. In truth, when one can accept their insignificance, the search for a purpose becomes less daunting, and more meaningful. However when one reluctantly accepts that their life has no special purpose, it loses its meaning and chance of significance. In many ways, it further proves the desperation of human lives to belong, find value, make their short existence in this universe important, until they await their inevitable death.

The little girl pondered everyday, why she was here. The enclosed corridors of the facility and many walls surrounding it, was her world; for the young girl did not know what lay beyond the bars of her glorified prison. With wide curious eyes she read books, many of them, where characters found their belonging, and fulfilled their purpose. She relished in the ideas and fantasies it gave her, and started looking around for her purpose, to follow in the lead of the others she so admired. Could she find her purpose within the four white walls of her room, or within the people that walked in, in those white lab coats bringing her food three times a day. The girl’s room consisted of a bed, a small desk, and a drawer housing books that she was brought, and she looked around the pieces of furniture, hoping to find value in them next. She had many questions, but the employees who brought her food never answered her. As she grew older, the four walls around her suddenly became tighter, and her world became a little duller.

The sound of distant chattering faded into the background as I held my phone up to my ear, wincing at the harsher than normal tone of my stoic boss’s voice.

“Yes sir, I assure you it will go without a hitch.”

“Good, I want this done before the expected deadline. Understand? There are more cases I need you to take care of so get back in one piece and after you can work immediately (L/N).”

“Understood.”

As those words left my lips, the call abruptly ended, and I continued my way down the streets of Yokohama, towards the ominous building that towers over it, as if it was a dragon observing his captive princess, calculating every move she makes.

The wind blew softly in my hair, and I closed my eyes. I would rather feel as if I was striding along the beach, a peaceful scene, but it was cold outside, not yet snowing, and the chill of the air snapped me out of my pleasant daydream. The daydreams I used to escape my dull, mundane daily life, consisting of the constant violence, and witness to the thirst for power in the men around me. I put my phone into the pockets of my beige coat, black shades resting on the bridge of my nose. I had a mission, like any other, and I had to complete it well, just as my superior had said.

Too soon I had arrived and stood at the steps leading toward the front of the building that houses the night owls of this city, breathing in the crisp morning air. Sharp night owls, that snuff out their prey and grab at it with ferocious claws. Narrowing my eyes to map out doors, guards, and the general area, as I always did, I didn't move a muscle to continue to my destination. Instead recalling the words my superior had said to me before I left headquarters, it being something along the lines of the port mafia is a force to be reckoned with.

I wasn't a fool to think I, as a single individual, could stand my ground against the group of mafiosos. No, I was capable enough to understand the strength my opponent held over me; It just did not matter. My disregard for my safety and reassurance that I will complete my mission unscathed was either a flaw to fix, or exploit. It had stemmed from my lack of fear and hunger for adrenaline. There was something so exhilarating to me, about being able to escape death by a moment, that I couldn't help myself but indulge situations where that plays out.

I wasn't brave by any means. No, I ran away from many problems and cowardly took easier solutions. Only special people could truly be called brave. Bravery is meant for those who face their problems head on, as they are brave enough to believe they can overpower it. Bravery is meant for those who wear their emotions on their sleeves, and do not hide themselves to mask their vulnerability, or trick their enemies. I would never assess myself as brave. However my crave for adrenaline simply dominated any fears that arised, and pushed them down into a pit, hiding somewhere quietly in me. I understood that one day, when I no longer suffocated my vulnerabilities under work and the rush of narrowly escaping death, they would certainly resurface and pour out. Nevertheless, I could only do what needed to be done and evade it until it gets too much to bear, as I said, I am not brave.

Stuffing my gloved hands into my pockets, I walked towards the door of the luminous building, not acknowledging anything or anyone around me, but staying highly alert. Assessing my surroundings is a lesson I'd done well to learn, and the scars lingering on my skin serve as a reminder should I ever forget. I kept my head high and strutted down the long hall I was instructed to go towards since the mafia accepted me as a private investigator.

The hallway was dim, with a high ceiling and thick walls. As I kept furthering along an uneasy feeling arose in me, but nevertheless, I kept walking. Only the sound of my muffled steps could be heard on the carpet that rolls down the middle of the halls, and as I glanced around, I realized there was no one else to be seen near. The eyes though, are one of the most inaccurate ways to view something. 

But as a single shiver creeped down my spine, it prompted me to cease my action of walking, and turn my head around. I looked to find nothing. An odd feeling I thought, it felt like a gaze upon me. I turned around again facing towards my destination, still paused.

Whether or not someone was watching me, it would not, and should not matter much for now, and that if it was important it would come up later.

I laughed at myself for thinking the mafia would let me into down their halls unattended. I continued walking down the long corridor and finally into the elevator. This was my first time working with the rumored brutal Port Mafia, but the stories tell me of the ride up to his office, where the embodiment of manipulation and malice awaits you.

Back in the headquarters of the white facility that kept the little girl prisoner. The man in the white button up put the phone down on his desk, he sighs and runs his fingers up his hair, hair that is slowly growing greyer by the minute. He turns to the woman sitting next to him, looking up at the screen in front of them, displaying the information and goals of the girl's mission.

“Nora.”

She elegantly turns her face around, giving him her full attention. Despite having aged quite a bit throughout this job, the woman never lost elegance in her face, only compassion in her heart.

“I want to pull her out. Getting her involved in this operation was careless of us. These aren't some street thugs y’know, the kid is going to the Port Mafia,” The man proclaims to the woman, who gives him an irritated look.

“No. I can already feel your anxieties from here, but I'm not complying. We have to take the risks, I doubt any other agent would be able to successfully pull this off quickly. And we need it done fast and accurately, it's crucial. So stop giving me that damned look.” She replied coldly.

“But we never delved into the risks. If she wants out, or starts questioning us again….” He stares right into her eyes, trying to get his point across. “I didn't want her to get so directly involved in others-”

He gets cut off as Nora wants to shut down the conversation.”If she becomes a liability, we get rid of her.”

The man is highly startled by her statement, but tries not to let it show, save for the widening of his eyes, but he diverts them downwards. He understands that Nora’s word on this matter is final, and gets up to go into his office, hoping that the young girl does get too involved with this mission, and come back with her brain as blank and devoid of life as she left.

Chapter Text

The elevator I stood in had a glass wall, presenting a view the port city of Yokohama. I took my black shades off, and folded them neatly in my pocket. Being so high up from the ground, everyone beneath appeared as small as ants. I turned away and looked up ahead, as the thought of a human’s life truly being as insignificant as an ant’s didn’t sit well with me. These were old thoughts and habits I could never get rid of, no matter how hard my training or punishments would be. I still felt the need to add importance to life, but in my own head of course. In this lifestyle, letting emotions take control of you for even a split second will derail you, and I was at least trained to understand that.

My thick coat started to feel too warm as the stuffy air in the elevator surrounded me. Seconds later the platform ceased its movement, and the doors slid open. I raised my gaze and was presented to two large doors with a man in a black suit on either side. I'd like to call them men but really they looked like two polished statues, on display for the world to see the Port Mafia’s tight leash on their dogs.

I stepped forward held my gaze sharply and face stoically as not to show weakness. They each had dark glasses and reached out for their black guns. Raising the barrel and pointing it in my direction as I stood there without flinching, I'd had worse pointed at me.

“(L/N) (Y/N).” I announced only, not bothering to explain myself or talk. I had a feeling whatever else I said would go through one ear and out the next.

The man on my right took out a walkie talkie and muttered my name into it. The next moment the large doors opened and I walked right through. Again, I was met with an additional set of large doors. The wood on these so dark I could almost see my reflection through them. The two statue like men stationed by simply opened them.

The air inside this room significantly grew colder without warning; and for the second time today, a shiver crawled up my spine. As I walked in, my eyes squinted and I turned to my left to see the perpetrator. Sunlight peered through this room and I gazed up to see the entire wall of the large throne-like office was glass, displaying the city of Yokohama beneath.

For some reason though, I did not get a poor feeling and found myself staring down at the streets, filled with life and joy, sorrow and misery. I couldn't see any individual person from this height but I knew the citizens of the city were going about their daily lives, to work, to school, to cafes. As I was so engrossed in the city, I did not catch the piercing purple eyes, narrowing.

“Distracting, isn't it.” The voice that came out of the purple eyed man startled me and I nearly flinched, thankfully catching myself a moment pior. I turned my head around to see a snake-like faced man observing me, with slightly upturned lips.

“Yes it certainly is, my apologies.” I replied with the bow of my head.

He simply smiled farther, “You may raise your head, it did not bother me. I found your expression rather amusing.” His voice may have seemed smooth, but it held a certain superiority, and threat to it. The man clearly had the upper hand to anyone who has walked through his door. And he was in fact clearly so superior that he needn't hide it, “Do tell me, have you ever seen a city before? You look as though you’ve caught sight of something new.” He questioned as he placed his elbows on the desk, crossing his fingers and resting his sharp jaw on them.

I looked up and tried to hide my startled expression by feigning indifference, and answering his question nonchalantly. “I have, but really none as beautiful as Yokohama.”

If I thought I had to hide vulnerability around the guards outside, I did not fully comprehend what sat inside these doors, across his throne room, overlooking his kingdom. Yokohama certainly belonged to none other than the infamous Mori Ogai. His slender figure, in dark purple style clothing, a long modern gothic coat were certainly not how to judge this man. One must judge him with his smile, that doesn't reach his eyes. And his threatening, calculative eyes, which looked as if he was a lion preying on a deer he had spotted, hovering around it ready to pounce at any moment. The long dark room was illuminated by the glass wall, Mori Ougai sitting behind a big wooden desk, on a chair made for a king.The contrast of light and shadows, truly made this mafioso leader look like a god. And observing this man so comfortable in his crowned seat, I had a sudden revelation.

Many men throughout history have tried to play god, and almost all have failed. When I look back on that moment I think, why was it you Mori, who I had on a whim put my utter faith in to try and succeed playing god? Maybe because he understood that playing god did not mean straightforward, absolutist control. I felt then, as though the entire city was a chessboard, and Mori moved the pieces with a simple advance of his hands. His opponent was none other than time itself. To advance and succeed his goals before his time runs out, and his inevitable death catches him. 

“(L/N)(Y/N)”

I looked straight into his unsettling eyes.

“Yes.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” He said warmly, but it really did not feel warm at all.

“Sir, the pleasure is truly, all mine.” I countered, tried to get on his good graces and stay there.

“An American private investigator right? This is your first time in Japan then.” He questioned me, tilting his head.

“Yes that is correct, it is my first time on Japanese soil. But I was more than willing to come and assist you in whatever you hire me to do.”

I was hired by the Port Mafia, but I did not know the reason as to why. I was given a mission to enter the Port Mafia, as a private investigator after intel alerted my organization that the Port Mafia of Yokohama was searching for one. This wasn't my first time acting as an investigator, and with my ability, it came to no surprise that I'd be assigned the infiltration mission.

Though I had been given very little information as to what I was to be looking for, or why I was sent to Japan of all places. I didn't yet understand why an American organization was poking their nose across the sea into this city. But I thought if I was not allowed to know, then there shouldn't be a reason to know.

I had already gave up any personal desires or purpose to fulfill in my life. My life had no value or importance, other than the work I have been assigned by my superiors. That mentality had been beaten, trained, and abused inside of my brain from a very young age.

“Ah I see, well let me ask, out of curiosity though, as an American yourself, I have a feeling a certain group of pesky little - inconvenient - rats with abilities will appear in a few years from now? Have you heard anything.” He kept his stare on me so harshly and spoke his carefully crafted words straight into my soul as he continued, “It shouldn't be wrong of me to assume you know things, being an investigator and all, you must have a lot of inside information.” His eyes widened and sparked as he spoke the last part of his sentence, truly adding to the snake-like face of the man.

From the little information I was just given through his line of questioning, I understood that Mori was not in such a desperate situation that led him to need a private investigator from the United States. He needed some information. Letting his words sink in, it appeared to me, he had suspicions of a group rising from America in the near future.

It also seemed he had heard a few rumors here and there, and was wary of them coming over seas. I was truly not informed as much as I needed to be back in headquarters, and didn't know specifically what he was referring to. Nonetheless it seemed that if individuals can concerning to the head of the Port Mafia, they must be strong. Of course, I would not reveal to him that I hadn't a clue what he is talking about. I decided to let him ponder over how much I knew - Unless he already knew I was unaware, which in that case would render my lies useless. But in the moment, the chance of him speculating rather than being sure was much higher, and I took it.

“Ah, sir, America is full of pesky rats. Have you been to New York by any chance, they crawl right out of the sewers.” I spoke with a new found confidence and charisma I didn't know I could muster up in front of the man.

The amusement in his face only grew, and his grin widened as he realized my evasion to his question. “I see, well we can delve into that matter at a later date, my second question to you.”

“Yes sir?” I replied with respect, standing on thin ice in front of the man after successfully evading his question, and thanking the heavens above he didn't push it.

“I know you're aware you were hired because of a past interaction with my associate, Ace, who only had good things to say. I trust his input that you will do a fine job on this case, especially after hearing about your ability.” He spoke as he left the confines of his chair and slowly walked towards the illuminated glass walls of his throne room. “I'd like you to refresh my memory on your ability. Being such a busy man these days I have become rather forgetful.” He stated, peering at me over his shoulder and giving himself an unctuously distressed state and slight pout of his lips.

“Certainly," I stated with a smile, as I straightened myself and turned my body to him. “My ability is A Clockwork Orange. Anyone I touch can be subjected and brainwashed under my control. They must follow my words or intent, as our minds become temporarily connected. Should a poor soul deviate from what I have instructed of him, they will be put under excruciating pain, and witness a variation horrid atrocities in their minds.” There were weaknesses and other factors to this ability, but he did not ask, and I would never choose to reveal them on my own accord.

His face turned into a pleasant smile, and turned to face me once again opening his arms like a missionary welcoming you to the new world. “Wonderful! How absolutely wonderful. I'd love to explore the different ways we can utilize this. You will stay longer if I ask you to, yes?” He exclaimed with an excited smile that actually did reach his eyes this time. “Of course I would increase your pay as well.”

I was sent here on the mission for information, when the boss personally asks you to stay, well who am I to refuse. “Very well, Boss.”

Chapter Text

After my graceful acception of Mori’s invitation to the infamous Port Mafia, who rule Yokohama under the shelter of the moon and shadows, he took a seat back down in this throne, and gestured for me to sit on the velvety chair in front of his big carved wooden desk. I complied with a nod of my head and crossed my legs as I sat.

The Port Mafia, I thought; what had I done, or not done, so unacceptable, for the universe to forcefully push me into this den of wolves? Any man who is aware that few people were born with newfound supernatural abilities, and the fact that ability users with the same goals have started grouping up into different organizations, will have at the very least, heard about the Port Mafia.

It is well known that Yokohama, Japan, has miraculously attracted many ability users, and so, many people with gifts reside in this lively city. The Port Mafia houses some of the most fierce, and terrifying gifteds, who have monopolized the city, to the extent of politics, economics, and society. They've also monopolized the most sought out construct of man; power. With all its influence in the governing of this city; combined with the sheer strength of ability users and numbers, they have successfully ruled over the underground, the night, the alleyways, and the shadows. Though everyday residents may not see it, the mafia lurks around every corner of the city, using its ports for their imports and exports. The sea-side ports of Yokohama connect the Port Mafia with their overseas drug and weapon empire.

What had I done, to have angered the gods that they had sent me blindly to the clutches of these people?

Is it because I have no faith in them, that I look at the bible as pages of folktale.

In my defense the gods had never shown me mercy nor kindness, so that I may pay it back with my devotion. No, I had devoted myself to the people in the white lab coats, who brought me food everyday and never answered my questions. For they, in my young eyes, who had never interacted with any other soul, were gods. Until I realized that the world lay beyond the confine of my room, I had not known how vast and complex it was. It's silly to think that one entity has the means to construct all we know today.

But if my lack of faith in their existence had brought this upon me, then I swear to the gods I do not believe in, that I will pray to you everyday, even if I anticipate that none of you will hear me.

Before I could question Ogai Mori about what else we had to discuss, the large double doors in the front of his office abruptly opened with a loud thump. I turned my head to see who had interrupted our meeting.

Through these doors, two young men confidently strided in, and ceased their movement about 10 feet from where I sat. I looked at them with curious eyes, wondering what kind of men so nonchalantly marched into the head of the Port Mafia’s office without batting an eye.

The shorter man adorned a black hat, with a black coat and expensive dress shoes. His natural orange hair stuck out and contrasted his blue eyes rather nicely. He had a slim build, with slightly feminine features; very pretty I thought. How could such a pretty man work under the ruthless Mori Ougai?

As my eyes averted to the taller man standing beside him, with his hands in his pockets, I realized I could not draw my pupils away. His dark brown hair rested nicely on his skull. A dark eye as if Nietzsche was describing his monstrous abyss. The reasoning for my unusual level of intrigue, and description of his eye as singular, was because his left eye was wrapped by a white bandage. Like the first man, he too had slightly feminine features due to his sharp jaw line, prominent cheekbones, and linear build. The brunette man adorned a black coat as well, but this one was longer and hovered over his ankles. His dress shirt was white, but vest and pants were black.

A fitting color for the mafia; the black and white clothing, adorned by dress shoes, coats, and probably expensive watches - though those two had none - corresponded very well with each other. Both men seemed around my age. And as my luck would have it, the brunette man appeared to have noticed my gaze lingering longer on him, and his brown eye met mine.

I held eye contact with him for a second, before turning back to meet the eyes of the now smirking head. Violent violet eyes looked back at me speculatively. My expression did not change, because really, he had no effect on me. I simply found his appearance soft on the eyes, and the same could be said for the ginger. A girl can enjoy pretty things without being judged, can't she? There should be no reason for my extra gaze of the tall brunette man, and in that moment I brushed it off in my mind as just that, an action with no meaning whatsoever.

Mori looked back at the two men, and allowed a pleasant smile to take over his features, before speaking.

“Ah, Dazai-kun, Chuuya-kun, you two made it right on time.”

The ginger, whom I could not tell which of the two names he possessed, took his hat off and bowed, folding one leg behind him as a sign of immense respect, “Boss.”

The brunette had not moved a muscle, and regarded the boss with a playful look in his face that certainly did not reach his eye.

“Allow me to introduce the young lady with us here” Mori announced, “This is (L/N)(Y/N), a private investigator I hired that had interactions with an executive in the past. I've deemed her competent, and will now assign her to assist you both, in our recent case for now.”

Both men, who had given Mori their full attention, turned their to look at me expectantly.

“Yes, hello, It's nice to be acquainted,” I uttered once, realizing they were waiting for me to speak.

“Likewise,” The ginger man replied with a kind smile. I could already tell that this man was sincere, and gave him a genuine smile back. 

I turned my attention back to Mori to question about the case he just mentioned and what I am to do but as I opened my mouth, a voice cut me off.

“You're not Japanese," This smooth, and deep yet young voice stated.

I shifted my head and realized the voice had come from none other than the brunette man. "I'm not. I'm actually American, as my appearance suggests.”

“That's not how I came to my conclusion.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Your japanese, you speak well but with a slight accent. That is how I realized, before registering your appearance.” He informed me with slightly upturned lips, gazing straight into my eyes.

“Oh, I see. Well, apologies for my accent, I'm not really surrounded by the Japanese language much.” 

“Boss, if I may ask, and I mean no disrespect to you, miss (Y/N), why did you hire an investigator from America? I don't think we need extra help.” The ginger stepped forward and asked, with a husky voice, different from the brunettes but certainly not any less nice.

The brunette then spoke up, “On the contrary Chuuya, maybe ‘cause your so short sighted you don't realize, but a pretty lady helping us with the case is no problem, and maybe after we can commit a double sui-”

“What'd you call me asshat!” The shorter man exclaimed at the words of his partner.

“Boys boys, don't taint our image to newcomers, you're both executives and should act accordingly.” Mori cut in and scolded them.

“Yea well he started it…” The ginger, who was now identified as possessing the name Chuuya, started spewing.

This would make the brunette man Dazai. As I finally matched their names to their faces, Dazai spoke once more. This time abandoning his playful tone and putting on a serious face.

“The dead bodies you sent us after have many bruises, and were reported of blood loss, but no injuries severe enough to cause that much blood to escape the body. Which leads me to the conclusion that their blood was extracted, for long periods of time, with one final extraction where the blood loss led them to death. I have a few theories, and adding one more brain to the mix is fine by me, boss.” He finished.

I felt his words held a different meaning. It was obvious the young man had no need for my help, and I got the feeling he himself knew that too. 

Mori laced his fingers once more, and concluded this meeting. “Then it's settled, (L/N), you will work with Dazai and Chuuya until this case is solved. Once you find the perpetrator committing crimes on my streets, without my knowledge, I'll extend your stay here, to make use of your ability.” He then addressed the executives, “Dazai, Chuuya, please explain the case to (L/N) and immediately start working. I want results in at most 3 weeks from now. You three may exchange the details on your gifts, and words when you leave. That will be all.” He concluded.

Dazai and Chuuya bowed and left the room, and as I stood up to follow behind them, I stopped to address my new boss once more, bowing before saying:

“Thank you sir. I am honored to be given this task, and will complete it soon... Until next time.” Straightening up to step forward, I stopped for a moment, adding on. “Also, please call me (Y/N).” And with that, I left, walking through the large doors once more, and following behind the figures of the two men, up ahead of me.

_____

We all trudged into the elevator without speaking, but the energy was not hostile. I believed the atmosphere of Mori’s office was rather draining, as he was intimidating, and the fact that he observes and analyzes your every move does not help. Being under his gaze, even for me, brought pressure, and I could only have imagined what these two, who must interact with him often feel. Not that they fear him or give in to his intimidation, but just interacting with the man seriously depletes you of your energy.

After a few quiet moments, Dazai spoke up.

“I was meaning to ask, before I was so rudely caught off, an important question.”

I looked back at him, giving my full attention, urging him to continue.

“After we solve this pesky case, would you do me the honor of committing a double suicide with me. Its always been my dream to commit suicide with a beautiful wom-” His ramblings were cut off by Chuuya, who yelled.

“Shut up Dazai, you lousy lunatic, you're gonna scare the girl.” He gestured to me with his arm, before turning fully to me and softening his voice. “Ignore the idiot, and I was wondering. Boss seemed excited when mentioning your ability, what is it exactly?” He honestly questioned.

I knew these two young men were not as cunning and scheming as Mori, but I also knew the importance of keeping your advantages secret. Sometimes the smallest secret is worth pounds of gold in the wrong man's hand. I had to retain some of my upper hand, so I only stated what was necessary. 

“A Clockwork Orange; anyone I touch can be put under my brainwash and ultimately control. If they deviate, they are put under immense pain, strong enough to make them comply with whatever I command.” I stated.

At this, Dazai’s playful eye narrowed, looking at me subtly and regarding me intriguingly. “Does it kill?” Dazai asked simply.

I was taken aback by his sudden question, asking me of my capabilities to commit murder with the so called gift I was graciously given. Clearly these men, much like myself were deep in a morally gray area. I wondered however, do they ponder their morals?

I found myself awake at night, after raids or missions where blood was on my hands, pondering whether or not I should be taking advantage of my ability in this manner. No matter how civilized humanity may become, we are all still animals. The laws of natural selection certainly do apply in society. The stronger, more competent individuals flourish off of weaker humans. I am by no means a social darwinist, and never compare weak and strong by race, but by the human constructs that determine who flourishes. Power, money, and ability; were how the people I frequented squash the weak. I wondered if I - an ability user who uses it for advantage and to get stronger than others - contributed to the unfair system.

It seems obvious that if humanity was aware of our distinctions to animals, and aware that the system I can only describe as everyone for themselves left people dead, hurt, or at a disadvantage in life, then we could change it. But after my dreadful years in this biased world; it seemed some animalistic instincts were too strong to reform. I answered Dazai’s question with experience based on previous instances of using my ability to kill. The world of ability users were cutthroat, so it wasn't odd to find people with seemingly normal jobs that have gifts to have never used them for death. He could interpret my answer either based on my own conclusions due to my control, or experience, it won't matter. 

“Through forced suicide yes. I can instruct the person who fell under my command to end their own life, be it with the weapon in their hand they usually carry, or jumping out a window. I can instruct one person to shoot or kill another as well.” I leaned against the elevator wall, letting my head rest on it, and put my hands in my pockets.

Dazai’s eyes narrowed even further, searching for the answer he desired through my words. After a moment it seemed like he found it, smirking and playfully replying, “You're much stronger than you seem, (Y/N)-chan,”

Before I could press it any further, the elevator stopped and its doors slid open. Dazai lifted himself off the wall he was leaning on and swiftly exits. Chuuya asked me to follow him and Dazai out, and I had no other choice but to comply anyway.

I assumed we were going to an area to discuss the case, but I was wrong as I was led outside the building, out a different exit than the one I entered. The long dark halls looked the same, but the layout of hallways were arranged differently, and I noted that there were more entrances and exits than meets the eye. Walking out into the street, they stopped in front of a big black car, and Chuuya motions for me to step inside.

Chuuya took the wheel, Dazai the shotgun, and I in the back. The luxury car smelled new, with a red leather interior. I could definitely say, this was Chuuya's car, without asking, and acknowledge the fact that it suits him very well.

“We don't have the time to sit and talk, I'll explain all the details on the way,” Dazai announced.

Realizing I forgot to ask them what their abilities were, I made a mental note to question that later, as the car engine was turned on and starts to move.

Chapter Text

I was informed that we were driving towards one of the crime scenes. It appears the mafia's jurisdiction enables them to have complete autonomy over this case. I had also learned that though the mafia was unforgiving and murderous to enemies, they protected Yokohama and its innocent clueless citizens. People getting caught in instances such as cross fires were not a priority, but mafia members do not go out of their way to hurt them. Instances such as these, where violence and crimes are being committed in the streets by someone other than the mafia, were unacceptable, and made the culprits into enemies. Dazai had explained that recently, dead bodies had been popping up around the streets of Yokohama. They had been all severely bruised, with broken bones, and completely depleted of blood. The car ride was silent so far; a nice silence, letting all our minds rest until they would be inevitably stained once we leave the confines of our own heads. Dazai once again spoke, in his serious tone, breaking the silence.

“I explained this to Mori-san earlier, but I'll graciously tell you two again. I have a feeling these bodies had been abused over longer periods of time. I think whoever is the culprit, was in possession of these people for a while and had their blood being drawn on a daily basis while being kept alive. It seems that once whoever was holding them had enough of their blood, they were killed. The coroner's report will be released to us later today. And an associate of mine Ango, who works in filing, will give us complete reports of each victim. We will look for a connection between victims first.”

“I agree. The culprit should first be identified and labeled as a serial murderer, until we find information that tells us otherwise, which we probably will. We need to find his/her M.O. Finding patterns between victims is the smartest way to go about this. Your associate Ango, can you tell him to dig into personal lives as well. Friends, family, coworkers. If any person repeats in those lists of people for more than one victim, they would be the prime suspect for now.” I added on. Though being a private investigator was simply an alias of mine; it was also my most used, and so I really have become successful in cases. It's surprising to see how many people in the U.S especially, distrust their own law enforcement and police.

“Certainly.” Dazai replies, taking out his phone to send a message to Ango asking him exactly that.

“We should identify him as a damn vampire to me.” Chuuya joked, adding to the newfound conversation that filled the serene silence of his luxury car.

Vampire? “I'm sorry, a-what?” I genuinely asked Chuuya, shifting in my seat. The term vampire, while familiar to me, was not something my instructors had ever taught me.

At my question Dazai perked up. 

“Eh, what do you mean?” Chuuya, clearly confused, asked.

“That term you used to describe the culprit, what is that.” I questioned him once more.

“What, vampire?” Chuuya asked again, displaying a puzzled face while looking back at me through his mirror. At his question I nodded, wanting to be aware of what appeared like such a crime to be unaware of.

“You know, those made up creatures, with the fangs that suck your blood. They are in movies and kids books.” Chuuya struggled to explain. “Oi Dazai, explain to (Y/N)-chan what vampires are.” Seemingly giving up on explaining to me, he turned to Dazai, passing on the burden.

Dazai didn't reply, and appeared to be in his own head, things I find myself often doing. I suddenly felt a sense of shame not being aware of what seemed to be universal knowledge. Back in the lab, all those many years ago, I wasn't permitted to incompetence. Constantly studying textbooks and works, after a few years I was told I understood information that children 6 years my elder were struggling to learn. I felt proud, happy. I thought I was happy.

I caught myself falling down the rabbit hole Im always too prone to slip and fall into when I attempt to analyze myself. However I made no motion to climb out. It felt safe here, felt okay, felt as if no one could touch me. No one could peer into my mind when I fell here, as opposed to how easily they do it when I stand outside of my hole. I resigned myself into my own head at that moment. Why did I dilute myself with happiness or pride then, for understanding man made concepts of math or history?

Humans, starting from the enlightenment to modern day, have put great emphasis on the pursuit of knowledge. Rationaily, progress, science, education, these determine intellectuals from the main population. Movements and reactions opposing the mind and rationality then appeared, emphasizing pure emotion and irrationality. Why can't we simply live, and evade labeling all that exists. Ignorance is bliss as they say, if only my mind allowed me to submit to ignorance, would I be happy. Would I-

“(Y/N).”

My thought was interrupted.

“(Y/N)-chan.”

I was forcefully pulled out of my head from the chanting of my name and as I looked up I realized the car had stopped moving, with both Dazai and Chuuya turned around looking straight at me. Dazai seemed to notice the look of shame dominating my features, from being unaware of the definition of a vampire. I lifted my gaze straight into his brown eyes, and once he caught on, his face relaxed.

Giving a soft smile, Dazai explained, “Most children don't read those silly books, Chuuya is just dense. Vampires are folklore creatures who live off of sucking human blood, and gain immortality along with other powers. They look like humans, and sport two fangs in their mouth.”

I then realized why Chuuya had compared this man to a vampire, and allowed the realization to show on my face. “Right,” I said, “I see now why Chuuya-kun compared the two. You're correct, I never read folktales as a child.” I gave a slight smile, looking up out the window, and realized once more we were parked. “Are we here?”

“Yes we just arrived, you however seem to have been daydreaming. Whatever about (Y/N)-chan.” Dazais voice stayed light, but eye narrowed. He picks up habits from Mori-san, I concluded.

“Trivial matters, let us go shall we. You said we didn't have much time.” I replied, evading his interrogating question.

“Yeah, c'mon Dazai, she's right, lets go” Chuuya added, seemingly to understand better than Dazai that I wasn't going to elaborate.

~~~~~~~

The area was a back alley behind a series of bars. Where working men and women de-stress after days of long repeated motions. It's humorous that people find comfort in what is labeled sin, as opposed to what the religions describe as finding comfort through faith. Years of the harsh realities of the world has hit people on the head, realizing that faith did not pay their bills. Their hard work did. While faith brought many the comfort I could only wish to know by simply believing a higher being was watching me, alcohol constrained pain and unwanted thoughts. It was only momentarily, but bar owners did not mind. The shorter the moment, the more drinks being repeatedly bought, the more profit they make to add more comfort to their lives. Not as if I had any room to judge, for I have let myself go to indulge in the sin of alcohol countless times before, running away from problems momentarily, and adding to the pockets of bar owners.

These series of bars were highly popular for the workers down by the docks, who load cargo. A subordinate of Dazia’s, in those black suits, led us down the alley to the right. There behind the dumpster, lay another poor soul, who the society had let down by letting them fall victim to the cruelties that humankind refuses to acknowledge. I peered down at the womens body, torn clothing, dried blood, messed up amber hair. Her face was bruised and body was beaten. Dazai and Chuuya had the same looks as I, emotionless. After years of being surrounded by blood, some on your hands, some on others, I've become numb to these scenes. I've accepted it as part of life. Of course, death is a universal factor of life, some may even say its purpose, but not murder. No, that is not the type of inevitable death that can be so easily accepted. Nonetheless, in this lifestyle, one can either accept it, or escape it. Escaping this life one may find, is much harder than accepting. Dazai, Chuuya, and I know this is no time for pity or feelings. An onlooker may look at our stone cold, stoic faces, lifeless eyes observing the gruesome scene depicting loss of life, and believe we are emotionless people, who revel in death. But we do, in fact have emotions, emotions I could never repress no matter how much I strive to. I can only suppress them, and look at her body while repeating to myself that, instead of focusing on her death, acknowledge that she had a good life, and that this woman lived, experienced, and pulled through proudly everyday, until it was taken from her. If a better place lay beyond the confines of the material world, I hope she is there.

I took the initiative for now, and brushed off thoughts, “What was the initial cause of death?” I asked the subordinates there, now slowing pacing in a circular motion around the body, for residue of really anything.

“Uh.. It seems it was a strangling miss, but we must send her body for an autopsy to make sure.” A subordinate in more casual clothing answered. He was crouched by the body, observing the bruises and marks.

“What brought you to that conclusion.” I question again, trying to get the bigger picture of this death right now.

“Her neck is broken….the bones look caved in... and uh there are red marks adorning it. It looks like two big hands...m-miss.” The stuttering subordinate stammered, pulling her blouse down slightly to give me a better look. Caved in and broken it was indeed, the marks so red I could mistake it for burns.

“I see.” I crouch down next to him, lightly tracing the palm of the hand marks. “These hand marks, they are a man’s, are they not. Unless I'm mistaken that a woman's hands could be this big and thick.” I looked into the fearful eyes of the subordinate and realized my cold features must have been intimidating to the man. He was tall but very slim, very different from the muscly men that adorn the black suits I see everywhere. Soft dirty blonde hair and light skin. I give him a softer, reassuring look, to calm down his nerves.

“Y-yes.. It is highly unlikely that a woman could have made these marks. The handprints are certainly manly.” He advised, seemingly more confident now that I wasn't gazing at him like a mannequin.

“Thank you. This has helped.” I stood back up and turned to Dazai and Chuuya. “About the victims, there were bigger men in that list. Right? Labor workers?”

“Yes, there were.” Dazai replied, seemingly catching on to where I was going.

“Well I doubt a woman could overpower big working men, who load heavy boxes, building supplies and cargo.” I started thinking aloud. “Unless the culprit is a group, which we have no proof of yet. I can infer that it is a man…. Or a woman with an ability, which we also have nothing to suggest that it could be possible.” I paused to hear some feedback, but both Dazai and Chuuya give me a look to continue. Taking a second to straighten out my thoughts, then continued, “To start weeding out a culprit, there's lots of instances and chances. But contemplating all of them will take too long. Mori-san said he wants this completed in 3 weeks tops, so we have to go with the first choice. Inconsistencies such as a woman with an ability, or a group, will come up whether we pursue the culprit as such or not. For now, a man, with or without an ability, is what the evidence points to, and the suspect should be labeled as such.” I conclude.

Dazai gives a charming grin, and Chuuya follows suit.

“See Chuuya, I told you a pretty lady was a great idea to add on to this case. I agree (Y/N)-chan.” Dazai comments, with a teasing tone and side eyeing Chuuya.

“Oi, I never said it was a bad idea jackass! Don't put words into my mouth.” Chuuya retorts with a playful pout, glaring back at the now very smiling Dazai. He turns to me with a friendly look, “I also agree (Y/N)-chan. We should get back to base and write down some reports.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, “We should get the information on her and all other victims as well. Look for similarities, connections, or patterns between them personally, and people around them. Even something as simple as their appearance or clothing style may be enough to discover an M.O.”

“(Y/N)-chan, you seem like a very experienced investigator in murder cases. Do you get a lot of them?” Dazai suddenly asked out of nowhere.

I haven't known Dazai for more than a few hours, but have known him long enough to know all his questions look for answers within your answer. This was not a question out of curiosity, but a question to get me to reveal more about myself. I had not done anything to make Dazai suspicious, but I didn't take it to heart. He is probably suspicious of everyone until he can prove otherwise.

“To my dismay, yes. The U.S is a farm for producing psychopaths and sociopaths. Murder rates are high there.” Even though I am only here for info on the Port Mafia, a part of me is reluctant to lie to my newfound team mates. I've never had partners in my work, never had friends in general. But being around these two does not make me want to avoid interaction with others. I surprisingly found them rather pleasant. This isn't a full lie though, the murder rates are high there. But it'd be foolish to reveal that I probably contribute to that rate, rather than try to solve it.

Chuuya let out a chuckle, and Dazai a sly grin.

“You can be rather funny too,” Dazai smoothly remarked, staring directly into my now startled eyes. Taking a step closer to me.

I truly couldn't respond, and felt heat on my cheeks. Panicking over the heat, I quickly moved my palm to feel it, and stupidly realized I was blushing. I quickly looked away, down to the side, and tried to open my mouth to respond. The reason for this idiotic reaction was that damn compliment. It felt weird, being complimented for the first time, by none other than the one eyed male.

Dazai looked at me very curiously, surprised at my flustered reaction. “Yes, very funny” He teased. “And cute.” He mentioned, testing to see how far he could take this.

I took a breath and straightened myself back, brushing off the cute comment. That compliment, I've heard before, and brush it off every time, as it is the least genuine comment I've received. As I got older, my superior realized that there were new skills about me he could monopolize, as my femininity grew along with me. I've been sent on countless missions where seduction was necessary, and since I was still too young to be called “sexy”, the perverted sleezers I seduced always started with cute. The word repulses me, so hearing it come out of Dazais mouth made it easier to forget the prior compliments, and rebuild my stoic facade.

“Thank you Dazai.” I said, straight faced and eyes directed at him, but not really looking at him. Pushing myself back into my indifferent state. Repressing the emotions, unique thoughts, hopes, and feelings. Yes, it feels better this way. Once I detached, I was again ready to continue. Turning back to the now standing awkwardly dirty blonde male, who was answering my questions earlier, I asked with a steady voice, “You there?”

“Y-Yes miss?” He replied, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead at our mere interaction.

“What's your name?” I say, softly.

“Yuki me-miss. Yamamoto Yuki.” He nervously answered.

“Yuki..” I repeated to myself, “Yuki, may I call you that, or do you prefer your last name?”

“Uh- erh.. Yuki is fine.”

“Yes, okay Yuki. What is your occupation, you're not dressed like these men.” I questioned once again.

“Oh, I um.” He started rubbing the back of his head. “I’m studying to be a doctor.”

I gave a puzzled look, and continued my line of questioning. “A doctor? Why is a medical student at a mafia crime scene?”

He walked a little closer, until he was standing with Dazai, Chuuya, and I. Dazai and Chuuya were quietly observing my interaction with the young male, not interrupting.

“My papa owed a debt. He's, well he's dead so I need to pay it. There's a shortage of personal doctors for lower subordinates so I'm allowed to finish school and work here to repay the debt.” He explained to us.

A look of understanding overtook my features, as to why a man who looked like he could barely squash a fly was next to two of the most dangerous mafia executives. I smiled again as I was able to get to my point of my interrogation. “I understand. I was hoping to have your medical assistance in this case. You seem to be informed, and it'd be easier to have you around then call a doctor and try to explain every question I have. Understanding what these people experienced before their deaths is the key to finding the culprit, and it's written all over their bodies.”

Yuki, along with Chuuya gave a slightly stunned look. Dazai simply stood there grinning, giving a knowing look, as if the chess strategy he just innovated was successful. Yuki suddenly turned cheerful, “Of Course Miss! I'd be glad to help you.” He said enthusiastically, seeming to shed his nervous layers.

“Good.” I reply, satisfied with the progress so far.

“We should go back now (Y/N)-chan.” Chuuya noted.

“Yes, yes, let's be off.” I give a tight smile, and turn to the med student. “Yuki, contact me tomorrow.” I say as a I hand him my card that I keep in my pockets.

~~~~~~~

The car ride back was mellow, as we were all slightly tired. Chuuya played slow songs in a nice low volume; and I rested my head back onto the red leather seats. Momentarily closing my eyes, and basking in the peacefulness. Despite the encounter with Mori-san; and the gruesome nature of this case, I feel in a state of peace since arriving in Yokohama. I abruptly remembered the two questions I have for my partners, and took right now as an acceptable time to ask.

“Dazai-kun, Chuyya-kun, may I ask a question?” I spoke up.

Chuuya looked at me through his mirror, uttering a sure, and Dazai spoke up with an of course.

“I realized I hadn't asked either of you about your abilities. May you tell me what they are?” I softly questioned, slightly due to my tiredness from the proactive day, and slightly because of my peaceful feelings.

“Upon the tainted Sorrow.” Chuuya answered, “I have the power of gravity manipulation” He replied proudly.

Upon hearing this, my eyes lit up significantly. An amazing ability indeed.

“That's really amazing Chuuya-kun.” I genuinely smiled.

“I-” Chuuya said with a blush. He bashfully turned his full attention to the road, “Thanks”

“Dazai-kun?” I questioned, turning my attention to him

“Ah, yes, I'll explain.. My ability is no longer human, I can nullify others abilities upon contact.” Dazai stated, turning around from the back to get a good look at my reaction.

The childish wonder that crept through me was too hard to suppress. Abilities always fascinated me, I always wanted to learn more, meet other ability users. But I was isolated, not permitted to work with others. Human interaction beyond the superiors and lab workers were very limited to when I was on a mission. Dazai and Chuuya were really the first people I'd talked to like this.

At the mention of my task, I realized I had gained information today on the mafia's top executives, and mentioned the fact to myself that asking them for this information to report was clearly not my intention.

“Dazai-kun, that's really amazing as well. Both of your abilities are very useful.” Opening up, it felt good. Too good as if I was addicted. This human interaction I never paid attention to, I'm starting to crave it. I continued, “I've never really worked with other ability users.”

“Arigato (Y/N)-chan.”

Chuuya pulled up in front of the Port Mafia’s towers, as we arrived right when my questions were answered.

“Dazai, you and (Y/N) go up into my office. I'll park and meet you guys up there.” Chuuya instructed, unlocking the doors.

I sugglishly got up, and opened the door, loosely landing on my feet. Discerning that I was more exhausted that I initially suspected. Seeing black shoes in my eyeline, I look up and view Dazai in front of me, offering his hand. I stared at it for a second, not used to this assistance, and realized his wrists are bandaged. Looking up at Dazais face, his neckline and what's shown of his collarbone through his shirt is bandaged as well. Peculiar man. Taking hold of his hand, he helped me stand upright, and guided me towards the door. I uttered a low and tired thank you, and kept walking with him. We trudged into an elevator, our hands were still intertwined. Dazai glanced at me, and the red adorning my cheeks. He seemed to notice the cause was none other than our skinship, but Dazai needed to push more, test more. He was tightening his grip on my hand, and I did nothing to remove it from his grasp. Warm, I thought. The half bandaged hand was very warm.

“(Y/N)-chan.” He finally spoke

“Dazai-kun” I replied.

Staring into my eyes with his single unbandaged one, Dazai spoke once more.

“Do you have any family?”

Family. Funny, the questions he asks me seem to be ones I know the least about. I understand that I had parents at one point, but purely because I understand human biology. I have never met nor remember any parental figure.

“No. I have none” I replied, no lies said.

Dazai didnt answer for a moment, gazing at me. Probably to figure out if what I say is the truth or not. He opened his mouth to speak but the elevator doors instantly opened, with a small ping to signify arrival. He simply closed his mouth, and led our still intertwined fingers down the long dim halls, and through a pair of dark gold doors. Inside was an exceptionally beautiful large office. Bookshelves adorning the walls, and a big desk towards the back of the room. As I gazed inside, I saw a large table with files, papers, pens, clips and three chairs. We must be working here.

“This is a pretty office. Rather clean.” I commented, still taking in all its features.

“Of course, Chuuya is on the materialist side.” And once again, Dazais playful face was reaserted.

Dazai interested me, more than I desire to admit. The man was certainly cunning, that much was clear. His eyes always held ulterior intent, and were constantly calculation. Similar to myself, Dazai has a collection of faces he switches through about 3 to 4 times in an hour. I wanted to pick apart at his brain; understand the enigma which is his mind. 

The doors are sprung open, and Chuuya waltzes in, removing his coat and placing it on the golden coat hanger by the doorway.

“Let's get started.” Dazai briefly announces and we all go sit on the table, grabbing a file and opening it.

On the inside was an ID picture, and a long list of information. “These must be the personal files on each victim right?” I asked.

Dazai nodded and began laying them all out side by side. We all took out pages and repeated his actions as well, until the table had 12 papers side by side.

“....Cargo worker, sales person, bartender, construction worker, moving services worker, restaurant manager….” Chuuya read outloud, listing occupations of all victims. “The only pattern so far is the condition of bodies. Bruised and beaten, loss of blood. I can't tell if there's a bigger picture or if we have some goddamn psycho in Yokohama.” Chuuya uttered, in a frustrated tone.

“I don't think this is your usual friendly neighborhood murderer.” I said out loud.

“What makes you think so, (Y/N)” Dazai asked, as he disregarded his clowning and put on a more serious face.

I knew Dazai picks up on these as well as I do, and I also knew he's been allowing me to take the initiative all day. As much as Dazai is trying to peer into my brain, I am doing the same.

“Regular serial killers have triggers, something they look for in each victim. It's a pattern that will correspond with their state of mind, and mental state. That's why I'm stressing on connections. But there doesn't seem to be any connection between any of these people, to the naked eye that is…. Both men and women, ages from 25-40. They have different jobs, and appearances are too inconsistent and different to find patterns. The only thing connecting all these people is the fact that they live in Yokohama.” I stood up, letting my words sink in, and began slowing pacing around the room, with my hands intertwined behind my back. “This city is a big factor. And the fact that it houses the most ability users is definitely not a factor to ignore. It's too much of a factor to be a coincidence. Serial killers usually move from place to place, to avoid capture, knowing there's plenty of the type of person they are looking for anywhere. But this person needs to stay here, needs the people here. Do you see where I'm getting at?” I ask, ceasing my motion and standing by the table, leaning my palms onto it.

“He's targeting ability users.” Dazai states, smirking very widely.

Chuuya’s eyes widened, taking in the information he had just been given. “You sure you and this idiot Dazai don't have a telepathic ability? What was that perfectly rehearsed speech”

At this, I bursted into laughter and Dazai chuckled. I looked back at him, who was now slightly chuckling, and Dazai turned his gaze towards me. Distrust, our looks said to each other. He doesn't trust me, and nor do I. I gave him a slight nod, while he narrowed his eyes back. I decided, then, that I would figure him out, and I'm positive his eye's say the same. Tear your mind apart, and water you down. Chuuya's abrupt voice threw me out of my trance as I turned to him.

“Alright guys enough of this for today. I'm gonna write up this report and then go home, are you guys both fine with that?” He asked.

I looked back at Dazai for a split second, still sitting in his chair, and looked back at Chuuya, answering, “yes Chuuya-kun, that works. Goodnight.” With a smile and a wave, I turn to go.

“I'll walk (Y/N)-chan out,” Dazai voiced.

Chuuya replied with a goodbye and goodnight to me, as he went up to his desk to write out what we have concluded today. Dazai opened the door, gesturing for me to walk out first. With a quick bow I did, and he closed the door with a loud clunk behind us. Looking up at him, I turned to speak, but was interrupted by my stomach growling loudly.

“I-”

“Would you care to join me for a meal, belladonna?” Dazai cut me off and questioned with an amused tone.

I contemplated for a moment, and decided that was the perfect opportunity to read into this man’s mind.

“Certainly.” I replied, taking his hand and walking down the large hallways.

Chapter Text

After accepting Dazais dinner invitation, we walked out of Chuuyas office corridor and out of the windy halls of the Port Mafia’s headquarters. Hands intertwined, we made it out onto the streets. The sky was a golden hue, and painted everything in its path. A beautiful sunset indeed. Dazai hasn't spoken a word, but yet again, the silence with the two mafiosos was never uncomfortable. I looked to my left, where Dazai was walking alongside me, and observed his feminine features being outlined by the orange light so majestically reflecting off of him. Really, he was soft on the eyes, that I would not deny. But love and sex, are two very forgein concepts to me, and better off left untouched.

“Are we walking there?” I questioned Dazai, seeing as we did not motion towards the parking lot.

“Yes, it's very close.” He softly replied.

Dazai turned to look at me, trying to study my features. Probably to peer further into my mind that he miraculously finds interesting. I certainly have never described myself as an interesting person, and conclude that one he realizes that the mind he is so keen on peeling is empty he will lose interest. Our little game though, will continue until that point. Then I will be shipped back to the states, where nothing but my demise awaits me.

The wind blew softly into my hair, and my locks floated around my face. With the hand untwined, I pushed some strands behind my ears. We walked nonchalantly, for a few more minutes until Dazai led me onto a different, more narrow street, and my eyes became accustomed to the flocks of people walking around enjoying their evenings. I sensed unnatural light and looked up, seeing rows of lights strung from the two buildings outlining this street. Restaurants were full of happy customers, all conversing with their friends and families.

“This street is very beautiful Dazai-kun, thanks for bringing me here.” The words fall out of my mouth prior to my registration of them, as I'm still mesmerized at the amount of joyful lives before me.

“I'm glad it fits your taste (Y/N)-chan. The restaurant over there is where we can eat and converse without prying ears.” He mentions as he points his bandaged hand, adorning long slender fingers over to a restaurant to our right. It was less overcrowded than the others. Dazai started walking over, and as our hands were still intertwined I was led towards it with him. We look like an affectionate couple walking like this, however our relationship is anything but that.

Dazai is suspicious of me, and in all honesty he has justification to be. A quickly hired P.I had a lengthened meeting with the king of Yokohama, Ougai Mori, and then was assigned to a case with two experienced executives. One a genius who no doubt can solve the case on his own. I know Dazai let me take all initiative today to evaluate my skills, and get a hint as to why I was hired. Our dinner date is no more than an interrogation, and I am unsure whether he is aware or not that it is a mutual one. This soft considerate side of his is also a complete farce, a ruse to lure me into lowering my guard. If a man showing me kindness was the key to lowering my carefully crafted steel wall Ive hand built around myself, then this so-called genius is sorely mistaken.

However I also, am deceiving this man, and all the other men I am bound to meet throughout my endeavors here. I did not forget in all the action of the day, that Mori lengthened my stay to use my ability. If I have successfully deceived Mori, I am yet to be informed, but I do not suppose I have accomplished that. The man is too perceptive to not suspect me of being more than a simple P.I.

“(Y/N)-chan?” Dazai asked

“Yes?” I snap out of constant thoughts that plague me and realize we made it inside the restaurant, and are standing by a hostess waiting to seat us.

“Where would you like to sit?” He says, and then turns to the hostess with a mischievous grin, “It's always the ladies choice, you know how it goes, happy wife happy life!” he teases, his clownery back.

My eyes widened and almost choked on air hearing that, but quickly composed myself. Giving them both a strained smile, I vocalized, “We can sit over there.” and pointed to a table near a window that was more private.

“Please, right this way!” The hostess announced, holding two menus and leading us towards our seats.

The restaurant was put together nicely, with a little traditional feel to it. Lights that burned low hovered above each table, and the tables were a sturdy dark wood. We took our respective seats opposite each other, and I rested my elbow on the table, laying my cheek on my palm. The palm that pushed me through so much violence, taken so many lives, and handled so many weapons.

Dazai slowly and meticulously put his menu down, and studied me. I imitated his actions and did the same, daring him to voice his thoughts. On cue, Dazai began his examination.

“I think I mentioned this before, but you're constantly zoned out (Y/N)-chan. I'm just so curious as to what's on your mind, constantly taking away your attention?” His tone was light and friendly, however never enough to fool me.

“Nothing really Dazai-kun, I just usually work alone. Being alone all the time causes me to be in my own head a lot. But thank you so much for being worried,” I say, allowing the irony in my tone to seep through the words.

“And what's the cause of this isolation?” He cleverly counters.

Again, not clever enough for me, “I work alot. It takes up my time, and most of my childhood friends are in the city I grew up in. I don't go out enough to make new friends. A bad habit.” My private investigator alias is the most intricate. My real name and information is all listed under it, along with fake school records, from elementary to university all centered in San Francisco, the city I “grew up” in. As mysterious my agency is accompanied with how kept in the dark I am, I do know they have friends in high places.

“I see..” He mumbles, conjuring new thoughts to try to alter his line of “friendly” questioning, set on compelling me to slip up.

“Earlier you asked me if I had family, what about yourself?” I decided to question.

“Just as you said, I have none.” I simply replied.

I wasn't surprised; if one has a stable family they probably would not be in the occupation he and I are in today.

“Say, (Y/N)-chan?” Dazai asked, his voice bridging with an emotion I have yet to identify.

“Yes?” I simply reply, urging him to continue. I surmise he has carefully chosen a new line of questioning for me.

“This is a common question humans like to ask a lot. They choose outdated concepts of good and bad to come up with a just answer, and I've heard a number of foolish answers. I want to know yours.” He says.

“Please go ahead, I'll indulge you.” I declare.

“Say…let's imagine four people are tied to a train track, and the train is coming at them. You are on top of a cliff, and can push one person near you off. They will land in front of the train, stopping it. They will die, but the four people will be safe. What to you, is the right thing to do?”

I straighten up and lean back into my seat, crossing my legs. I peered at Dazai, but didn't reply yet, seriously considering the question. Muffling out the chatter of occupants around me, I think. The answer is seriously formulated on outdated concepts of good and bad, where the question addresses neither. After a few minutes, I formulated my reply, “I would push off the person.”

“Why?” Dazai simply counters.

“Statistically saving four lives is greater than one. So wouldn't it be the best option?” I ask, opening his question to a discussion. I've already decided this answer would be the conclusion of a discussion. I am definitely not permitting Dazai to the luxury of pulling a full answer from me right away, and I don't want this interrogation to be one-sided.

“Yes, but you will be antagonized if you take that option. I'm surprised, I thought you'd think more out of the box and come up with another answer, most people do.” He states.

“People who do have a false sense of heroism and are foolish. Where would they pull a third option from? Humans like to think they are more capable than they are.” I simply say, countering Dazais remark, but not allowing him to continue as I start again, “What you mentioned earlier is correct, this question should not be based on what the most “good” option is.”

“Then let's rephrase the basis of our answer.” He decides and I nod, urging him to continue. “I would like to mention that you can also jump off yourself, saving five people, or do nothing, as the situation was not caused by you. You were just in the unfortunate position being able to help.”

“Doing nothing is the most selfish. Ignorance is bliss; if one tells themself they were not at fault, and in turn do not involve oneself with making the decision, that is the most selfish option. They are saving themself from the guilt of the dilemma...This question is a dilemma, because while doing nothing will end in four deaths, it does not make you a bad person. You're not the cause of the deaths, you just choose to not interfere to selfishly save your conscience. So yes, we must change the question and rephrase the basis of our answer.” I say

Dazai gives a smile, and replies, “So what are you suggesting?”

“You know what I am suggesting Dazai-kun. I'm tired of allowing you to allow me to keep taking initiative, I feel like I'm having a conversation with a teacher leading me to the right answer.” I sarcastly sneer at him, trying to get Dazai to answer my questions instead of deflecting them back to me.

“Fine, fine, you caught me (Y/N)-chan. I just want to understand your train of thought.” Dazai honestly says while putting both his hands up like he's guilty.

“So then,” I say as I lean my elbows onto the table, intertwine my fingers and lay my chin in the middle, like Mori-san performed earlier today. “What are WE suggesting we alter the question's tone to?”

“That, it's not a concept of good or bad, it's what choice is the most selfless, and the most selfish.” Dazai concludes with a smirk, crossing his hands over his chest and leaning back.

“Precisely, Dazai-kun.” I proudly say, mirroring his smirk. “Humans are inherently selfish, and I definitely do not believe in concepts of good or evil, they are too abstract, too black or white. They generalize humans into two categories when human kind couldn't be fully classified into even one million categories. There are too many colors for society to sort humans into black - or - white.”

“I suppose you're right...No-no, I have never agreed with you more. So, as the opposite of bad is good, the opposite of selfishness is selflessness. If a person in that situation would automatically select the most selfish option, they aren't bad, however are not selfless. Selfishness and cowardice go hand in hand, don't you agree? By selecting the most selfless option, it still doesn't mold one into a- supposedly - good person; however will probably get the best possible outcome of the situation.” Dazai recites.

Our conversation truly resonates like two individuals reacting a poem. And the way we contradict each other, while agreeing, feels though Picasso himself is gliding his paintbrush onto a new piece of abstract art. Where the lines of black and yellow paint counter each other as he strokes, but the ending piece simply fits. Dazai, I have concluded, is a good conversationalist when he desires to be. Discussions with him play out like a game of chess by two masters.

“So, Dazai-kun..What would be our conclusions on which option is the most, and least selfish?” I start again, still sitting in the same position.

“I clearly remember asking you the question (Y/N)-chan, since when did this become a duel discussion?- What if my answer is completely different than yours?” Dazai states, with that sultry tone of voice he has.

“Great minds think alike.” I shrug, with an internal smirk.
Dazai lets out a laugh. Not a taunting or condescending laugh, but a genuine one. Throwing his head back and smiling widely. I suspect my answer caught him off guard, and entertained the bandaged man.“You're truly so amusing.” He says as he wipes a tear off his dainty eyelash. “Truely, and I suppose you're right.”

“Well I,”- “I will take that as a compliment.” I say with a humorous smile. “Your getting off track and your question has highly stimulated me, so let's continue.” I grin with a wave of my arms.

“Of Course my lady.” Dazai states with an open gesture of his hands, like a royal court’s butler. “First, I will admit that suicide is a selfish option. While not the most selfish, contrary to what others might say, throwing yourself off the bridge to save all five of the people is selfish.”

“As a suicidal fellow yourself, please expand on your statement.” I playfully say and lean back into my chair.

“If I were to finally successfully kill myself, Id essentially have run away from all my problems and the Port Mafia; knowing that my skill and input there is depended on. Suicide is my selfish wish.” Dazai says

“So, ending one's life for five is selfish… I agree.” I wait for him to add on, but he gestures for me to continue. “One would selfishly use the situation as an output to run from their problems. Humans are selfish, and any normal person would not selflessly kill themself on a whim to save others. Truly - society may think a good samaritan like this exists- but, they are very, very rare. This act of sacrifice is really taking advantage of the unfortunate situation for an ulterior selfish motive, which is killing oneself. Not to mention the survivors' guilt that the four tied people are bound to feel. As well as hurting family or loved ones because of their death.” I conclude.

“Exactly what I was thinking. And may I add, that they would be viewed and praised as a hero, for taking the easy way out.” Dazai surmises.

“Yes, they will be praised for their sacrifice as a hero, when it's a selfish non heroic act. They took on no responsibility or guilt.” I add.

“So then, what about doing nothing?” Dazai leads on to the next option.

“The most selfish.” I simply state.

“Undoubtedly.” He states as well. “In the least with suicide, everyone is spaired, but ignoring the impending murdernwhile not their problem, could still could fix and save atleast four people.- selfish.”

“Yes,” I reply. “So then the least selfish, and most selfless out of all options is killing the one person for the lives of four, and not based on statistics.”

“(Y/N)-chan, I am well aware your answer wasn't based on statistics from the start.” Dazai moots.

“As I am well aware that you have already formulated your answer, and it is a duplicate of mine.” I counter, adding a sultry tone to my own voice.

“Do tell me then, belladonna, what did we conclude?” Dazai announces.

I straighten up, raise my chin, and proudly declare, “Besides the fact that four people will be saved; by taking the initiative to kill one person, one is the most selfless.- Unless one takes joy in murder, which most do not, and certainly neither of us seem to do voluntarily, one would go through all options first. Ignorance and suicide are both selfish, and while suicide will save all, you can not expect one would kill themselves on a whim like that. Expecting them to kill themself for an impossible situation like this; that they did not have a hand in, and was - as you said - unfortunately caught up in is selfish wish. So that leads to the murder…” I shift in my seat to continue, and explain using my hands, “By pushing one person off the cliff, one takes all the guilt and misery away from everyone else who knows that is what they must do. No one, but a selfless person would take the lead to dirty their hands. If one dirties their hands, everyone else's hands remain clean. They have taken the burden of the murder, off all others, and saved four lives..An anti-hero, a villain, that is what one will inevitably become, and they will definitely not have done it with their own free will. They took the burden, guilt, and misery away, and were forced into the roal. One who chooses this option is the most selfless.” I finish, noticeably wearied from speaking in one go so much.

As on cue that our answer was concluded, a waitress in the restaurant's white uniform, walks up with a kind smile.

“Hello! I am kioko, your waitress for today. Can I get you two started with any drinks?” She sweetly and excitedly announces.

Without even taking a moment to think,“A glass of water would be exceptional right now please. With ice, lots of ice.” I say with a genuine smile back, needing water for my throat from talking so long. Really, my throat is worn out.

“I'll have one aswell.” Dazai adds.

“Of Course! I'll get on it right away” Kioko exclaims, skipping off to the kitchen.

“Per your-our conclusion. I must say, I agree, and have entertained that notion from the start of our conversation. I had a feeling you'd agree, but nevertheless had to truly arrive at the conclusion.” Dazai admits, picking up his menu to actually choose a food option.

“I understand, I was doing the same thing since you'd asked me. I only hoped my throat would not have been so uncooperative from the long discussion.” I tease at the end. “You must give me a second before I can further the notions you entertain.”

“Ofcourse, take all the time you need.” Dazai smiled and said.

When our waitress brought us the water, I chugged the glass down like a man lost in a desert, who had just stumbled upon an oasis that was not a fragment of his imagination. The waitress Kioko quickly refilled it for me. Leaning back and uncrossing my legs, I sigh and close my eyes for a moment. I need a moment of tranquil peace, to regain my mental energy. While conversations like these are one of the very few times I'd willingly engage in the presence of another, they fatigue me afterwards. Mental stimulation must not be overlooked as a form of exercise, as it is in my opinion, the most important.

Kioko came back to take our orders, and I voiced my desire for ramen, while Dazai ordered sushi. We were both silent for a few moments, seemingly content with our previous discussion. I wore a neutral look on my face, not cold or indifferent, but not overly happy, I just feel momentary content. It is well known that what man achieves by underhanded means, he will always be attempting to fully grasp and contain. My happiness would clearly never be achieved through meager, “just” means, where I can easily possess it until I die. If I were to ever possess happiness in my clutches, I would always constantly be trying to keep it there. Restarting the interrogation, I decide to ask the next question before Dazai can.

“Dazai-kun, I have a question of my own.”

“Shoot.” Dazai says, bringing his attention away from whatever thoughts he was contemplating to me.

“Are you well versed in the philosophy of Plato. Specifically his Allegory of the Cave?”

“I am.”

“And what did you take from it?” I question further.

Dazai pauses for a moment pondering an answer. He diverted his attention to the floor on his right, and then spoke up, looking back at me,“That human insight cannot extract real knowledge. Real knowledge is only derived from philosophical reasoning. That is what I understood from it. Why do you ask?”

I reply honestly and straightforwardly, not wanting the real meanings to have to be read between the lines of my words to be understood, “Plato’s view on human nature correlates with his view on how to govern them. He believes that only the educated can govern. That it's not a decision of free will, rather a fact that the masses aren't knowledgeable and capable enough to live in what we call today a democratic system.. That they can not make choices for themselves, and a knowledgeable man should rule and make it for them. I want to know your opinion on this.”

Again, Dazai did not speak for a few moments. It makes me feel a sense of fulfillment that my questions are able to spark a little stimulation for the calculative and fast working mind that is Dazai’s.

“I understand where he comes from; but I don't think that free-will should be restrained. Men who think they are superior because they can do math problems, are no better than the men who cannot. And man always exploits and wants more..-Put a man who already thinks he's superior than others, and put him in a position of power where he thinks his choices are for the betterment of the masses who disagree, but don't possess the mental capacity to understand. That's where another Napoleon or Stallin come into power.” Dazai voices, with a neutral tone and look.

I took a moment to sink in his words, mentally agreeing, and he abruptly interrupted, “(Y/N)-chan?”

“Yeah?” I say

“I know this seems redundant, but the man who we decided would be pushed off the bridge.” Dazai mentions

“What about him?” I inquire

“What if I told you he was a doctor on the verge of discovering a cure for cancer. What would you do if you knew he was a better person?” The mafioso implores.

“I would still push him.” I simply state

“And why is that?” He questions further

“Because all men are the same. Cancer cure or not, no one's superior.” I finished.

“Exactly.” Dazai smiles, “Really all people are so alike. I admit there may be special individuals who are born, on rare occasions. But I don't think any man is better than the other. There are definitely people who are worse than each other, and that's how one is better.”

“I see… So evaluation of others should be based on who is worse, and that will set up comparisons of others, but should not be set up based on who is better.”

“Precisely” Dazai spoke.

“That must mean you think men are inherently selfish, cowardice, and awful.?” I question

“I haven't come across anyone who can prove me otherwise.” He states, leaning forwards and resting his forearms on the table. “Earlier, you said there are many colors to society. I've only ever seen shades of grey.” Dazai utters

“I haven't seen anything but grey either..” I look down and to the side to sadly say, but then add on looking back up, “But I like to believe there are others in the world, who are able to see a vibrant array of colors.” I softly allude to.

“Why?” Dazai softly replies, looking confused.

“I want to believe in hope. It's a foolish belief I- I know it is. But I've heard that it- it helps one move forward. If I don't have a semblance of hope for a day in the future, I might as well be a walking dead man ” I have difficulty confessing. I've never confessed this to anyone before, but Dazai is so easy to talk to. I have the urge to indulge in his questions. Hope. I can't remember when I used hope as a means to strive living in this dark world day after day. But Dazai. He makes me want to be strong for him. This man is so lost, I see it. I've given up my life to others, but that's also given me purpose in a skewed way. He has no clue where to look for his lost purpose. I have the urge to lift his spirits. Hypocrite. I must be the biggest hypocrite in Japan, as if I can lift my own, trying to lift this mafioso’s. Foolish. I know. Foolish girl I am.

I look up at Dazai, and see the most unreadable expression on his face. An expression of someone who truly doesn't understand. My breathing grows quicker but deeper. This is the perfect moment to push forward to his limits.. But I can't. As I gaze into his brown lost eye, that's not bandaged, I feel as if he might completely break. I don't know what I've said to push Dazai to this brink, and I know. I know if I push further, he’ll let me. I have an opening right now, I can win our game. However, I know that when he lets me push forward he will break. I will push him off a cliff and he will shatter into a million pieces. I am in no such place to pick up his pieces at the moment, and I can't even bring myself to try and attempt breaking him. Mask off. I have somehow, miraculously pushed off Dazais mask. But the moment escapes as fast as it came. Dazai quickly reconstructed his mask, and slid it on. His brown eyes who just now tried to pour out a thousand words and feelings are now again guarded. Dazai knows. He knows I saw it, he knows if I pushed he’d let me, he knows I know this, and that I refrained. I refrained from breaking him, he is aware. The relief and gratefulness is evident in Dazais posture, if not his face.

“What if I said it was a child?” He abruptly asks, voice a little scratchy.

“Huh?” I confusedly muttered

“The person to push off the bridge, it's a child.” Dazai quickly retorts, looking into my eyes.

“I would let the four people die.” I answer, no thinking needed.

Dazai looked surprised for a moment, then quickly countered, “On what account?”

“Children are innocent.” I confidently reply.

“Were you an innocent child (Y/N)-chan?” Dazai asks, voice sultry and steady once again.

“My inno-” My breath is caught in my throat as I suddenly catch myself confessing something that would no doubt blow my cover. Ruthless. I thought. Dazais line of questioning suddenly led to a crack in me. Even though I spared his crack, Dazai pushed forward to mine, no gratitude committed. The man is ruthless and truly shows no mercy. I look down for a moment to gather my thoughts, and scold myself for almost cracking. Looking up again, I nonchalantly say, “I had a normal childhood.” Lying through my teeth. My innocence was forcefully taken from me.

“I don't believe that.” Dazai boldly accuses, suddenly switching from defensive to attacking.

“I never asked you to Dazai-kun.” I say with a tight smile, the tension seething out from the air around us.

Chapter Text

Our meals arrived at the table and were placed before us. It seems we must have been too accusatory to each other, and I point blame to hunger as the perpetrator. Whoever concluded that hunger makes people irrational and angry was certainly right. However our meal’s arrival helped dissolve some of the hostile tension of our recent allegations. I hesitantly started picking up the utensils on the table as Dazai did the same, and started to eat, slowly. It appears Dazai probably did not want to blatantly reveal his suspicions about me to me, but hollered the words out rashly. I want to console him and tell him it didn't matter, as I was already aware, but that would make no sense, would it. An enemy trying to console another because he gave away information. In what war would that be justifiable?

“I apologize for that accusation (Y/N)-chan. It was a spur.” Dazai voiced, after we ate for a few minutes.

Ah, his kind facade has been placed on once again. I am very aware of how unapologetic he is, as the accusation was not a spur, and completely valid. But Dazai must keep on playing the game; conform to it. We cannot pull information out of each other otherwise. So just as he is concealing his true thoughts once again, so will I.

“Really, there's no apology needed. I'm sorry for my impudent remark afterwards.” I relent.

“It must have been our hunger and all the mental stimulation I put you through, dont worry about it.”

“My thoughts exactly, Dazai-kun.”

As the tension between us relaxed, so did our postures. Dazai and I both sunk back into the comforts of our chairs, and I untensed my stance. Really none of our words could have relaxed the tension, as it did not change Dazai’s true thoughts, and neither mine. But like words and people, tension can deceive and hide as well.

“The food is delicious, thank you for bringing me here, truly.” I say, buttering up the man. It would be a lie to say the food did not in fact, taste quite well.

“I'm so glad.” Dazai replies, in a sugary tone. His smile, a complete forgery.

“Tomorrow I suggest we find potential victims that the culprit may go after. I don't know if there's a system that registers if one has an ability. If there is that'd be very helpful.” I announced, changing the topic of conversation from ourselves to something we have to work together on.

“There isn't one officially, but the Port Mafia never does things the official route anyway, we do have a list. The same associate of mine, Ango, has one in his office. We can borrow it from him.” Dazai replied, leaning forward on his forearms.

“Perfect. We should send your subordinates to tail potential victims throughout their day. Is that possible?”

“Certainly, they'll do anything I command.” Dazai proudly states and takes a few bites of his food.

“Okay good, let's go with that. It’s not a full proof plan but it's a start.” I finalized.

“Sounds good.” Dazai says. “Do you hope to find the culprit stalking or near a potential victim?”

“Yes. I was thinking of having your subordinates look out for any suspicious people they see when tailing the person. If they see someone throughout the city more than once, we need a picture. They'd be put on a suspect list and we can weed out people from the list based on their personal information.” I explain to the man.

As much as I'm intrigued as to who is in such dire need of the blood of ability users, that is not my mission, and really not my concern. The Port Mafia can deal with matters involving Japan, so I doubt it will cause too much chaos once we identify the culprit. The mafia seems to be highly capable individuals, with a highly capable and conniving head. I have no doubts that the matter will be resolved swiftly.

We finished our meals and the bill was brought. I offered to pay my share but Dazai being the fraud gentleman he is, paid for us both. I thanked him, and we exited the restaurant together.

As I stepped outside, the cool air hit me vigorously, wind plowing through my hair. I was suddenly thankful for the long coat I had on, but nevertheless wrapped my arms around myself. The coat was not enough.

“Cold?” Dazai questioned, shivering slightly as well as he turned to me.

“Yes.” I smile sheepishly and answer.

The once lively loud street was now much quieter, as the sky was dark. I looked up at the full moon, glowing throughout the darkness. A serene and peaceful night painted the sky, clear of clouds and tolerable of few stars that are visible. Though the moon is surrounded by dark, it never once allows the dark to dominate it completely. The darkness and the moon, complement each other, not compete. I feel as though as much as the dark claims its desire is to dominate the moon's light, it would never actually execute their threat. Bringing my head back down, I look to my left at Dazai, who is also gazing at the night sky.

He senses my gaze on him, and turns to me as well, slightly smiling. We both slightly shiver, and it coaxes a giggle out of me. Though it was dark, and the string lights were off, the lamp near us illuminated Dazais face, as it did mine. I breathe out of my mouth, and can see light vapor coming out, prompting me to smile.

“It's too cold, let's go (Y/N)-chan” Dazai softly remarks, reaching out for my hand.

I told myself my hand just needs to be warmed, to reason with my acceptance of it, this time without hesitation. Yes, skin to skin contact will warm my palm, that is my reason.

We slowly strutted down the streets, in the direction we came from. The only sound to be heard was the clacks of our shoes on the pavement.

“Is there a taxi station nearby?” I asked. “My hotel isn't fair but it's much too cold to walk.”

“No, there isn't one close. But I can get a subordinate to drive you back.” The mafioso inquiries.

“Oh- I don't want to be a bother to them, they are probably trying to relax for the night, there's no need.” I try to reason. These being my true thoughts on the matter.

“Nonsense, the mafia thrives at night. If anything, they get to relax in the mornings. One will drive you back.” Dazai says, still softly but more firmly.

Reasoning that if he's offering I might as well accept, I do just that. “If that's the case then thank you, I'd appreciate that.”

“You're welcome.” He says as we keep walking towards HQ.

Dim street lamps paved our way as we calmly walked together. The movement warming up my body a little more, as each breath I take exhales with smoke. Dazai takes his sleek black phone out, calling a subordinate to drive me back. As we get near, a black car pulls up, prompting Dazai and I to cease our motion.
“Would you like me to go with you?” Dazai asks, seemingly considerate.

This treatment truly makes me feel like such a simple person, when really sitting in that car alone is no possible threat to me.

“Thank you but, I'll be fine.” I say with a soft smile.

“Very well then, just tell him the address of your hotel.”

“I will.” I say as I turn to open the door, turning back for a moment and looking at Dazai in the eye. “Have a goodnight Dazai.” I sincerely remark.

“Goodnight to you too.” He says, giving a smile.

I get in the car and close the door, the leather seats slightly squeaking. The car pulls off as I utter the address to the driver. Another mafioso adorning the black sunglasses and suit. He nods his head but gives no further communication and obediently completes his task.

I leaned back into the chair, closing my eyes. It was a very long day. In one day however, I seemed to have accomplished a lot. Especially learning about Dazai’s character. I have no qualms against the man, it's truly unfortunate we are just on different sides. Thankfully this is only an intel mission and nothing more. Once this case is settled, and I perform some further tasks for Mori, I am able to return to America. Suspicious or not, Dazai and Chuuya will simply know me as a P.I that helped a little, and moved on with her life. Not that I’d feel guilt for lying, just that this situation is much more simple being recited as it really is... It's pathetic that I have been pondering about my deceit, but only because I have never had a mission involving others. Nevertheless my personal feelings do not, and should not matter. I am not incompitent, and can discern my thoughts.

I've decided however, that personal details of Dazai’s character do not need to be reported, as it is only the Port Mafia intel my superiors want. Deals, money, future plans… I will report those. My personal affiliations should not be anything my organization needs to know.

Though I can be called a loyal dog to the higher ups, I still question their motives harmlessly. As long as I do not act on these treacherous thoughts, I see no point in deluding myself that I do not think them. As to why an American organization is interested in the Port Mafia of Japan, I have not one ounce of a clue. I don't see why anyone would decide to invade Yokohama, and disrupt the system going on here. But whether I discern and understand their motives, does not matter. They have already obtained my devotion.

Trust and devotion, the two things humans work so hard on keeping pure and only giving out to the one they yearn, I have given fully to my organization. Either I gave it, or they would confiscate it. Giving your trust and devotion, is like giving a part of the control of your life to someone. I have given all of mine, and have none left for myself. I understand that the missions I'm given are the only segments of free-will I have, and even those are controlled. Free-will to complete a goal commanded to me. However most people have no free-will even when they think they do. Abiding by laws, morals, and society strips you of freedom. When one's money controls their life, they are a slave to it. A slave to their jobs, which regulates their schedules, controls them. It appears it's not so awful being controlled to- in the least- break the law, rather than abide by it.

As these thoughts come to a close, the driver pulls up to my hotel. In the touristic area of Yokohama, stands the nice 5 star hotel my organization so generously booked me a room in.

“Thank you.” I utter as I open the door and exit the car. Strutting inside the luxurious lobby of the hotel to be met with lights, fancy furniture, and snobby businessman.

I already checked in this morning, prior to my introduction with Mori, and simply headed to the elevator across the marble floored lobby. Pressing the “up” button, the doors open and I swiftly go in, clicking the floor my room is on. The abnormally large elevator was cushioned with red carpet, dim lights, and a fancy bench. But before the door could close three sleazy drunk men tumbled in. They were in unsightly suits made to look expensive with slicked back hair, and all wreaked of alcohol.

I sunk down to the corner of the space to avoid confrontation, knowing I was irritable at the moment, and would not hold back should these men try to tick me off…. Ofcourse, my efforts were to no avail as they turned around and spotted me glaring at them.

“Heyy..” One slurred, movement sloppy, “Whatcha’ doin’ pretty lady...Why ya so mad for?”

I say nothing and stay silent, straightening up but averting my eyes. Really trying to hold it in.

“Heh- she's probably just frustrated, yea?” Another jumps in, “yano lady, I'm real good at helping them bitches ease tension.” He says as he slowly stalks towards me, “I got all the right positions to make ‘em scream, yea?”

Really, these scum are good for nothing. Deciding that death is a charitable offence for these three bastards, I spoke up, “A clockword’s orange.” I punctuate, in a cold and unamused tone.

The three men cease their lewd bittering and stand up straightly, unable to do much with their own will.

“You all will go to the top floor of this overrated hotel full of drunks. You will take the stairs to the roof, and get on the ledge. Then, jump.” I command, as the elevator stops on my floor. Not even sparing the bastards a second glance, I exit the elevator contently. Knowing that if they try to not follow my order they will be met with pain and ultimately die. I feel fulfilled that by tomorrow society will be rid of three good for nothings.

The hallways I calmly entered were sleek, with a long red carpet to walk on. With my hands in my pockets I make it to my white door, swiping the card and finally going in. The room was luxurious, with blue and gold tones. I collapse on the big fluffy bed in the middle of the extra large room, and bask in the soft blankets. Quietly taking off my coat and changing into night clothes, I head to sleep. Allowing my mind and body rest, as it will soon be consumed by idiocy once more.

~~~~~

“(Y/N)-chan, Good Morning.” Chuuya chirps as I step into his office. It being my second morning started off in the Port Mafia building.

“Good Morning Chuuya-kun, I brought you some coffee.” I say as I hand a plastic cup to him. I'm unaware of how social interactions casually work, but I think a simple gesture of coffee would suffice as a way to start off the day on a friendly note. I bought one for Dazai as well, trying to make sure our hostilities from the previous day do not carry on to this one.

“Oh wow, thanks.” Chuuya exclaims with a true smile, taking the cup from me and taking a sip. “I really appreciate this,'' he adds.

“It was really nothing, your welcome.” I reply, sliding off my coat, a shorter white one today.

“Dazai’s always late so let's just get started without him.” Chuuya says, grumbling the part where he had to utter Dazai’s name. He motions to the round table and I take a seat next to him. “He did tell me though, about your idea, tailing potential victims in our records.”

“Yes, I think we should begin with this, as there isn't much specific evidence to go off on from the bodies. Our fastest way is to catch him in the act.” I reply, gesturing with my hands.
“I like that, let's go roll with it. Once that idiot gets here we can get the list of victims and hand it to his subordinates. We can just sit back and wait around for this part right, to see where it goes.” Chuuya insights.

Ofcourse, he likes that it's relaxing. I sheepishly smile with a teasing tone, “Yes Chuuya-kun, you get to relax for now. If nothing changes in a few days then we will change tactics.” I tease, “And god forbid you'll actually have to work.”

Chuuya gives a guilty look, smiling ofcourse. The nice ginger man is always smiling. “You're really calling me out here.” He jokes.

“You're just so easy to tease Chuuya, and lazy if I do say so myself.”

A sultry smooth voice, proclaims from behind us near the doorway. Ah, even better, the demon himself has arrived. Chuuya and I turn around to see Dazai, in all his glory, standing near the doorway. He has his arms crossed but holding on to the cup of coffee I bought him, and is smiling, his condescending smile directed at his partner.

“Well how great, Dazai-kun is here. Let us go to Ango’s office.” I abruptly announce, standing up, to divert the tension before the two men start to bicker once again.

“Yeah, lets.” Dazai adds, re-opening the two golden doors for us.

Chuuya and I followed, and as this Ango man was a friend of Dazai’s, he led the way. I was again thrown into the mazes of hallways the Port Mafia building houses. To how any man remembers the directions here, I am yet to know.

The hallways are very wide and majestic, however they possess an eerie vibe. They have beautiful stained glass windows, and long carpets. If a majestic church devoted to christ is white and light, then these halls must be devoted to lucifer, as it is the opposite. I suppose claiming these mafiosos devote the opposite of the lord would be an accurate assumption, whatever its opposite may truly be.

After being led down some rights and lefts through the maze, Dazai pauses at a dark oak door. We stop behind him, and he abruptly slams the door open, waltzing in as if he owns the room. I am ashamed to admit, I expected Dazai to knock.

The door leads us into a room that must be Ango’s. As I gazed around, I suddenly felt pity for the man, Ango. This room was significantly smaller than any room I have seen so far, and was a cluster of bookshelves, papers, and files. Eachwall was lined with bookshelves to the ceiling, and was filled to the brim. After I finished gazing around the walls, I saw a burgundy wooden desk towards the wall opposite the door, and there sat this said Ango. The man certainly did not look like those muscly mafiosos in black suits and glasses; since there sat a skinny man with dark hair and round glasses, in a brown suit coat.

Dazai animatedly walks up to his desk, and gives a mischievous smile, whereas Ango’s stoic face does not falter.

“Ah, Ango-san, how are you doing today!” He exclaims, rather loudly for my taste.

“I'm the same as always Dazai-san.” Ango replies, in a calm and collected voice, not smooth however not scratchy either. “Please tell me how I can help you, otherwise don't bother me. I have work as you can see.” Though the words Ango spoke were distant and cold, his tone was not. The man contradicts himself, as his tone was friendly and welcoming.

Ango gives a brief nod to Chuuya, and says, “Hello to you too Chuuya-san.” In which Chuuya simply nods back.

“Always to the point, Ango. I’m only complying this time because I'm rather busy with this new case. Speaking of which, this is a new associate of mine, (L/N)(Y/N).” Dazai says, moving to his side a little for me to be seen while gesturing at me.

I walk up and give a slight bow. “A pleasure to meet you.” I say.

Ango reaches out his hand and I give a firm shake, “likewise.” the man replies.

“She's helping us with a new case, and we’re gonna need the list of civilians who are ability users in this city.” Dazai adds.

“Oh sure I have that here.” Ango says as he gets up and turns towards a bookshelf on the wall behind him. Navigating through the files, he gives an aha once he finds what he was looking for, the list no doubt. “Here it is.” He utters as he turns to us and hands Dazai the file. “Just make sure not to lose it or anything, especially you Dazai-san.” Ango adds on, accusingly to Dazai.

“Me?” Dazai asks with hands in the air, “Oh I would never.” He playfully remarks.

Ango disappointedly shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger. “You have it now. Goodbye.” He says.

“Kicking me out already, how rude.” Dazai says as he turns around for the door.
“Thank you.” I say to the man, prompting him to smile and nod. Chuuya simply tips his hat and leaves with me as well.

“Oh Dazai.” Ango suddenly calls out. Dazai stops at the doorway and peers over his shoulder to the man, gesturing for him to continue.

“I'll see you tonight at the bar right, you mentioned you were busy I just wanted to kn-” Ango asks and starts to explain but was caught off by the bandaged executive.

“I'll be there.” He softly says, and turns to leave.

Chuuya and I chose not to comment, as most of Dazais interactions so far have simply been utterly peculiar. However Chuuya does turn to me giving me the look, and I smile giving it back. The look of amusement and confusion. We walk behind him together in tow, down back the windy luxurious halls.

~~~~~

Chuuya and I had made it back to his office, while Dazai explained he was going to give the list to his subordinates and command their tasks. As his office also adornes a set of lounge chairs on the wall opposite of his desk, we made our way to those.

I swiftly dropped down on the cushioned chair, and pushed my (H/C) hair behind my ears.

“Tired?” Chuuya asks, seemingly dropped on the chair adjacent to mine.

“Surprisingly yes.” I answered with a soft smile.

I turned to look at him, and he did the same. Chuuya was a good person, well, as good as a person our line of work could get. But I've learned not to judge the occupations of individuals, or what lengths they go to to live and survive. I doubt illegal activities were Chuuyas first choice for a path in life, this world had only pushed him into it. So in conclusion, a fine person he is indeed.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” He asked, shifting upward to sit a little straighter.

“I did sleep well. I think all the walking down to Ango-san’s office and back has drained me.” I truthfully say. “How do you get around through these halls everyday?” I joke.

“It gets easier over time.” Chuuya smiles and remarks, “Thankfully your clever little plan is gonna let us sit back. Honestly that's my favorite part.”

I huff a laugh, “I'm so glad Chuuya-kun.”

“(Y/N)-chan?” Chuuya abruptly asks.

“Yes?”

“What's it like where you work? You haven't told us anything about yourself.” He says.

If Dazai had asked me this question, which he more or less did but very indirectly, my guard would go up. However Chuuya’s question is clearly pure, with no malicious intent or hidden meaning. When people become friends they tend to know and learn about each other, so I surmise this is his genuine curiosity, and I can satisfy it with more truthful answers.

“Its- Well it's very lonely. Boring too.” I softly say, averting my eyes from gazing at Chuuya to the ground next to him.

For a moment he doesn't speak, and I could feel his gaze. Whether it was pity or understanding, I am not aware. “Don't you speak to many people as a private investigator?” He finally asks.

I look back up at his very nicely sculpted face, “Yes but it's strictly formal. I don't have any friends and work takes up too much of my time to make any… I don't know if you could tell but, I'm rather awkward. In a casual setting- that is.” I bashfully reply.

Chuuya gives a reassuring look while replying to my remarck, “You're not that awkward (Y/N)-chan, dont worry about it.” He looks away while adding on, “And I think the formalness in the way you talk adds to your character, so I-” Chuuya, now for some odd reason was very red, rosy ears and cheeks he continued, “I like that about you, so don't go changing or whatever dummy.” He frustatily admits, rubbing his neck.

I let out a closed mouth giggle, at the tenderness of his remarks. “Thank you Chuuya-kun.” I say, smiling to myself like an idiot.

“And as for your stupid job, just quit.” Chuuya says, looking back at me.

His comment quickly hits and I worriedly look back up to him, reluctance showing through my eyes. I take a second to take in what he says, while still looking at the ginger man. Quit, he says. I barely ever resisted my superiors, let alone think of leaving. Quit. Is it really that simple? Am I able to go into Nora and Bill’s office, utter the two words I quit, and be free. No. Freedom never comes at such an easy cost. Freedom I attain that easily, I will always struggle to hold, just like any chance of happiness.

“I can't.” I sadly say, looking down slightly.

“Why can't you?” Chuuya pushes, “You're real smart, you could work here. Boss likes your ability, I bet he’d welcome it.”

I pause for a second to seriously consider the notion. Staying here with the Port Mafia. If only- I internally scoff for even pausing to consider the consideration, as if I was ever able to. I deceived them. I'm here with malicious intent, to sell out their information. I doubt god would be so merciful as to allow me to leave with my head if I was found out. Foolish.

My superiors were certainly right, working with others diverts you. It unfocases you and allows foolish words to be spewed into your mind. I am better off alone, and the fact that I had even considered this notion of Chuuya’s was incompetence on my end. I must finish this and leave Japan quickly. As if all the pain Id endered to be taught obedience could be forgotten with that simple concept of hope.

“It's complicated, I can't.” I replied after some moments, the guilt and hesitation still on my features but not allowed to overtake my mind. “I'd never leave.” I add, however, more to myself.

“Is someone threatening you?! Just tell me and I'd go and beat their ass.” He now says, a firmer look on his features.

I smiled and gave a laugh, a very fake one at that. My mood is rather sour with my new revelation, “Oh no no, nothing like that.” I softly say. Chuuya had not truly said anything wrong, and it would make no sense for me to have gotten angry over his kind offer. I don't hate the man due to what I realized, simply put, I must go back. People are detrimental to me, and I would have nothing to give anyone in return for their kindness. “I owe a debt to some people, and working for them is allowing me to pay it back.” A great debt I owe. The fantasies I devise to make sense of the situation I'm in truly amuse me.

“Oh.” He disappointedly says, but flashes a smile, “It's all good. Just know the offer still stands.”

“I’ll never forget it.” I conclude.

The two golden doors of Chuuya’s office abruptly open, and none other than Dazai walks in. He gazes at me and Chuuya, lazily sitting down next to each other, with an unreadable expression. He then proceeds to lift a chair from the round table in the middle of the office, walk over to us, plant it down and sit. There were only two lounge chairs.

“Much better.” Dazai says.

This man must have worse social cues than I do.

“Hello to you too.” I say, teasingly.

“Hello (Y/N)-chan. Since when did you get so frisky?” He asks, playfully.

“I must have spent too much time with Chuuya-kun.” I quickly counter lightheartedly.

“Aye! You love spending time with me.” Chuuya swiftly remarks.

“That, I do.” I say, looking back at him.

The room is silenced once more, and Dazai lets out a humorous sigh.

“I leave you both alone for 15 minutes and look, your best friends now.” He jests.

“Yeah, she's a much better friend than you. Better to talk to, and way more prettier!” Chuuya now accuses, always falling for Dazai’s ploys at getting a rise out of him.

“Well, I can't say I disagree.” The bandaged man remarks, fluttering his eyes closed.

I feel rather problematic now, not knowing how to properly respond. What do I say to this?

“You two are- well you two are good friends- too…” I meekly respond. Blushing like a child and looking down. Really, how am I expected to respond to this.

“Awe (Y/N)-chan, you’re all flustered. Are giving compliments that hard?” Dazai teases.

“Yes very much.” I reply looking back up seriously.

The sound of a phone ringing cuts off our playful banter, and Dazai picks his up.

“Yes?” He coldly says, his frightening execution persona seeping through. “Ok, we’ll be right there.” He adds before ending the call.

“Who was that?” Chuuya asked.

“Boss, we have a quick mission.. All three of us.”

Chapter Text

“Man, I really thought we could relax today..” Chuuya whines as we all make our way to Mori’s office for the mission he requested of us just now.

When Dazai received the call, we withdrew from Chuuya’s office immediately and, at the moment, are heading towards the elevator, the three of us side by side.

“There's no such thing as rest for us Chuuya, grow up.” Dazai playfully retorts, and then adds, “I also mean quite literally - you're so short.”

“You got something to say about my size asshole!” Chuuya nags once again.

“Both of you!” I cease my walk and stand in front of them, giving an irritated sigh with my hands on my hips. “Please refrain from bickering, my ears cannot take anymore of this.” I say frustratedly. “Aren’t you two supposed to be partners?” I add on questioning.

“Not by choice.” Chuuya sneers glaring at Dazai, while Dazai glares back.

“I apologize (Y/N)-chan, Chuuya is just immature.” Dazai says with a humorous sigh, “But, just for you, we will get along… I promise.” Chuuya gave him another glare.

“Good, now let us go before Mori-san has our heads for being late.” I say, turning around and continuing my way to the elevator, Dazai and Chuuya slightly behind me.

The elevator doors slid open and we all strutted in. Dazai opting to lean on the glass and Chuuya standing slightly next to me.

“What do you think we are being summoned for?” I asked the executives.

“I'm not sure, probably some petty gangs or lowlives causing trouble or messing up some shipments.” Chuuya explained to me.

“I see.”

The elevator ascends quickly and the doors once again slide open to the lion’s den. We exit the elevator in tow. The guards at both doors recognized Dazai and Chuuya, so no explanation or identification was needed. The second set of long doors open, and the three of us make our way to Mori, who was standing by his glass wall, peering down at the city, hands clasped behind his back.

The Port Mafia and The Allied Legion are extremely different. The Allied Legion, being the organization I am a part of. Though they do not tell me much, I am aware of a few things. It was created in the late 1940’s, after Roosevelt dropped his atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I am aware the legion is a remembrance to the allied forces of the war, and American nationalism. When the first abilities appeared, it was created. I understand that it was small at first, and dealt with gaining and containing power through utilizing one's ability, and overtime grew significantly. My superiors are high up the chain of command, but not the head. I do not know who it is, that I am essentially receiving orders from. Nora and Bill have some autonomy and are able to make a few decisions themselves but I know they take orders obediently from someone above. The atmosphere is formal, and distant, like all agents working there. I suppose it's a semblance to the environment, where everything is dull, numb, and emotionless. Even the architecture of the building holds no individuality or characteristic. Members are, in tow with the environment, taught to blend in and securely get jobs done. Think with information, rationality, and logic, emotions can not get in the way. Individuality cannot get in the way. Keep your feelings minimized and if you can, do not feel. Whereas the Port Mafia is completely opposite, like white and black. Here, everyone is an individual. They are regarded by their individual strength and emotions. The building, architecture, and hallways are one of many characteristics. I have no doubt Mirandola would be proud. Members of the Port Mafia utilize and allow themselves emotion. Chuuya for example, feels deeply, and while still a rational person, isn't in fear of embracing his emotions. Though Dazai may think he does not, and suppresses his emotions, they are there. I can tell that in times he allows himself to feel, he will do so very deeply. Mori is the head, the most powerful man in Yokohama, and yet he personally has relationships with executives and members.

It is all truly so different from the Legion. How I have come to work for legion, is what I am not aware of. Memories of my childhood are clouded, and glimpses I do remember are what appears to be a laboratory and white bedrooms with few toys. I am told I was rescued by the Allied Legion, and they had forcefully trained me. Whether it was against my will, or I would comply, they did not account. I was always told I was too young to make my own decisions, and that this is the best path in life for me. I, too, am similar to Dazai. I know I feel things, and if I can ever process unsuppressing my emotions, they will overflow out. But years of suppression has made it difficult, and so in turn I chase adrenaline to fill those holes within me. The Allied Legion is certainly not an ideal organization to work for, but I have accepted that my soul holds no value to anything else. If I, as an individual, am not valued anywhere in this world, at least my skills and advantages I bring to the Legion are, and I am grateful. My ability is my only value, and to the Legion who trained and honed it, I devote my unweighted life. They can use it as they see fit, I am no person or individual. I am simply the shell and carrier of “A Clockwork Orange”, and it is that they use. My skin, bones and soul are of no value to anyone, so I do not value it myself either. That is fact.

“Mori-san.” Dazai regards the man standing at his window, his back to us, “We are here.”

“Hello Hello, Chuuya-kun, Dazai-kun, and (Y/N)-san. I have a quick task for you all since I was informed (Y/N)’s plan has spared you some precious time.” Mori exclaims as he slowly struts back to his desk, taking a seat in his throne.

“Whatever you need is done Boss.” Chuuya respectfully regards, bowing down. I give a bow of my head as respect as well. Not surprisingly, Dazai does not move.

“Ofcourse, I never doubt either of you, and will certainly not doubt you (Y/N)-san.” He starts, leaning back on his seat, a wine glass half filled with the red liquid being tilted in between his dainty fingers, “To start off, I want to address that the Port Mafia has informants that are not members of the mafia, but give us valuable information, as you two know, and (Y/N)-san now knows. Of Course as they aren't one of us, there is a chance of unloyalty, however I was sure fear would diminish that - Anyways, we were tipped off to a certain group extorting some of our weapons resources by the docks, and was told it was some thugs. It was not however, and became a big hassle. The problem has been dealt with, but one of our executives was severely injured while dealing with it. The informant himself is part of a small gang who gains and sells intel, and I have reason to believe they also participated in stealing our weapons.” Mori explains. He leans forward, elbows on his desk, and clasping his fingers together, resting is head. The infamous Mori Ougai stance I have come to know, which never brings joyful knews. With a tilt of a head and sinister smile, he continues:

“How about we show them what happens when you “misinform” the Port Mafia. hmm?”

~~~~~

Please play the song above now ;)

My hair is forcefully pushed back by the wind as Chuuya’s red convertible zooms down the road. Apparently Chuuya is in possession of many fancy and sporty cars. This time, Dazai offers to sit behind us so I am in the shotgun seat. As soon as Mori explained our mission we got an address and left, heading towards the industrial side of the city. The car is swung from side to side, right and left lanes are being weaved through and switched by Chuuya’s fast driving, going fifty miles per hour. My ears are plugged from the heavy wind harassing me. A giggle leaves my mouth as Chuuya suddenly sharply turns and he laughs as well. Dazai nonchalantly sat as if he was in a peaceful boat ride, the only indication that he is in fact, not in a pleasant rowboat, was the tornado on his head which is none other than his brown hair being twisted from wind pressure. Still, he paid it no mind, sitting back and facing the sky. The time is about 12 pm, before lunch, so I hope we get this over with before then; I need a meal.

The car twists and turns against wind for a few more minutes, as I opted to observe the city around me. The sports car is driving so fast, however, that I can only see a mush of it’s waves, a mantra of sways back and forth. The air was still crisp and a little minty in my nose, but refreshing. Finally, we arrive at our destination to teach some nasty little informants a lesson about foolish treachery. I say foolish due to the fact that they assumed they were able to successfully get away with their lie. What utter idiocy. Chuuya’s car came to an abrupt halt, signified by the screech on the pavement, in front of a rundown brick warehouse.

“Let’s get this done and then get a meal!” Chuuya exclaims as he hopped out of his car, carefully slamming the door shut, Dazai and I following along.

“I second that.” I say.

The car quickly beeps as Chuuya clicks the lock on his keys, and pushes them into his pockets. We arrive at the double doors in front of the big warehouse. Vines growing on the sides that dominate any cracks in the bricks. The whole building and sidewalks in its perimeter were covered in a layer of dust.

“This place is an absolute dump.” Dazai says with a cynical smile, softly kicking a can near his foot into the wall, where it rolled right back in front of him.

I crack some of my fingers, getting ready for whatever awaits us beyond the doors, but I hold not an ounce of fear. I've already noticed Dazai’s dark reputation as the harbinger of death in the Port Mafia, and have no doubts in Chuuya’s ability, nor the fact that I learned of his thorough skill in martial arts. I in fact, hold myself in high regard, especially compared to some city thugs. So this would be done in an orderly fashion: quick deaths and interrogation for the one in charge, as usual.

In one swift motion, Chuuya kicks the double doors and they are slammed down. An interesting entrance, but probably terrifying for the two dozen men inside the large bleak warehouse. They all turn their sorry heads to see three people. Two men, one covered in bandages with an evil grin, a red haired man in a hat, giving an amused glare, and a (H/C) haired girl, hands nonchalantly in her coat pockets and leaning back, looking right through them as if they were ants, with a tilt of her head.

As the realization dawned on the foolish men that the Port Mafia had arrived, due to Dazai and Chuuya’s reputations, they all took defensive stances. The men had guns, which were stolen from the cargo they took, and some had bats in their hands. All looked ragged and unprofessional. Yes, we can deal with these buffoons easily, the traitorous informant is who must be interrogated.

For a few seconds we just stared at each other, my partners and I with bored uninterested however intimidating glances, and the men attempting so hard at not pissing themselves on the spot, with glares that resembled a grumpy bulldog’s.

At first glance, no informant is obvious, however a small shuffle of metal in the corner of my ear turns my pupils sharply to my right, past Dazai’s form to a whiff of a shadow. The shadow outlined a man’s, and he appeared to be hiding behind some crates.

Bingo

Dazai glanced at me, with intent to convey that he too, recognized the informant in the corner, and gave me a slight nudge with his head, telling me to go take care of him. Confident that these 24 thugs are not even the slightest match for the two executives, I take a step forward. At my lousy excuse for a step, the men took off on sprints towards us. Dazai lets out a chuckle and grin, Chuuya grinning in tow and marching down to dispose of those nuisances.

I stealthily step away, to the left end of the warehouse, pacing towards the informant hiding like a rodent. As I feel a presence behind me, I swiftly step away twisting my body around, and see the thug’s blow land in the air with his bat, whereas it was meant for me. He gave an irritated grunt, looking up at my smug face.

“You bitch!” He screeches as he lunges towards me again, prompting me to once again side step, and he swings at air. Before he can straighten up however, I land a harsh blow on his hunched back, right above his spine with a straightening fist. Another pained grunt exhales his lips as he falls flat on the ground behind me. I do not look back and continue my walk to the corner, entrusting the un-defended man to the other two men.

Getting nearer to the crate of boxes, I hear more shuffling and shifting of feet. The person appears to be frighteningly squirming. Internally delighted with my insite of fear, I round the corner around the boxes, and see the man behind them. He is hunched over, trying to appear smaller. The man is of medium build, with raggedy dirty blonde hair in a hideous purple button up. As he turns his fearful eyes to look at me, I realize he looks very familiar. Yes, to one of those hairless cats I've seen Nora taking care of. I've always found them rather ugly, and this man is no exception. Keeping a stoic statue face, I step forward. He steps back, but is backed up by the stack of heavy crates around him, and has nowhere to escape.

“Hello.” I calmly say.

He does not respond.

“I've heard so much about you my friend - really all good things.” I taunt, stepping closer, “Except for this one little thing I was recently told.”

His face flashes in horror, I almost feel sorry, except for the state of indifference I am in.

“See your friends with the Port Mafia, right? Excuse me, I meant to say you were friends. I don't have any friends, but I've been told they dont lie and deceive each other, because once you do you are no longer friends.” Taking another step forward, we are only a few inches apart. “Are you aware of what the Port Mafia does to those who aren't its friends?”

He shakingly shakes his head.

“I'm sorry to tell you, but you are about to find out.”

~~~

Dazai, Chuuya, and I all stand in the center of the warehouse, a mass of dead bodies littering the dirty ground around us. The informant tied with his wrists and ankles to a wooden chair in front of us, in absolute horror.

“P-Please” He cries, “Let me explain - I can explain.”

“Explain.” Dazai proclaims, with his arms crossed.

“Listen - y-you must believe me!” He pleads, “I -I had no clue - O-Our information was w-wrong! It was on p-purpose!” He says, “Yes, yes on purpose to h-hurt you. P-punish those, n-not me! Please!”

“On purpose you say..” Dazai muses, an amused smile so terrifying it could almost make my skin crawl.

“Y-yes!” The man’s face beams, “I can lead you immediately to those people, they are the ones who wronged you! Not me!”

“I see.. But one question.”

At this I perk up.

“Y-yes??” The man shakily asks.

“If you had no clue, then why are your men armed with Port Mafia guns. The guns being transported during your “mistaken” information?” He grins cynically while asking.

All color from the man’s face fell as he turned his head towards the bodies on the ground observing his slaughtered comrades, some still clutching their guns and other guns laying on the floor. His breath hitches and snot builds up.

“I-I” He cannot manage to form words with his mouth shutting open and closed.

“(Y/N)-chan?” Dazai suddenly asks, turning my way, in a calm and friendly tone.

I cannot comprehend how Dazai switches personas oh so swiftly.

“Yes Dazai-kun?” I calmly reply back.

“Would you please do the honors of using your ability to get some words out of him, my belladonna?” He politely asks, “I think it will go by much quicker this way, and we can make it to lunch on time.” He enthusiastically adds.

“Ofcourse.”

I step in between Dazai and Chuuya. Chuuya, just standing nonchalantly with arms crossed waiting for this to finish. Standing in front of the teary eyed tied up man, I begin.

“A Clockwork Orange.” I announce, and an orange glow lightly engulfs me, connecting me to the man.

“What was your purpose with misinforming the Port Mafia, what did you hope to gain?” I curt.

“Y-you I-I would neve-” His sentence was cut off with a loud screech of pain. As he is not complying with my orders, all he will feel is pain. I find it's rather persuasive after a few screechs.

He grimaces and screams for a few more seconds, almost doubling over on the chair. After it is over tears stream down his face, which is constructing in pain.

“Okay.” He mutters defeatedly, “You- you mafia scum think you own the city!” He starts, this being the truth of his intentions as he is no longer in agony. “I lied to you to weaken you, so those gangs could take you down by surprise. Your weapons should be mine!” He all but screams.

Sighing disappointedly, Dazai waves his hands in the air, allowing the man to no longer continue his scornful tangent. “Oh you're a pitiful thing, that was an awful reason to lose your life for.” He says stepping next to me, pulling his gun out from under his grey coat. “Well, hopefully in your next life you won't have the unfortunate position of being affiliated with us.” He adds.

Dazai lifted the gun with his hand, onto the man's forehead, who let out a shrieked cry.

“And for reference, we do own this city.”

When those final words left Dazai’s lips, a single gunshot pierced through my ears. The shell recoiling onto the ground near my boot. Not one of us three flinched, while thin streaks of blood splattered my cheek.

Dazai turns around, putting his gun back in its place, when he catches the blood on my cheekbone. He observes it for a second before straightening up, and slowly stepping towards me. Dazai leans in, closing the space between us, and his palm softly catches by jaw, sliding onto my cheek.

“You have a little blood.” He softly utters, wiping the surprisingly soft pad of his thumb across my cheek bone, wiping the blood. Keeping his hand firmly placed on my face, his expression fails to show any indication of what he is feeling, as it is blank. I barely move a muscle, unable to react to his actions. “There.” He says, swiping his hand down my cheek, and releasing it from his hold.

Without another word, he walks past me towards the doors and outside the warehouse. I finally let out my breath, and turned to Chuuya with my mouth agape, a somewhat puzzled expression on my face. Chuuya in turn, gives a stunned and startled expression. Neither of us able to comment.

Chapter Text

We all got back into Chuuya’s cherry red convertible as he started the roaring engine, completely disregarding Dazai’s peculiar actions just moments before. Dazai wouldn't explain, and it would make the atmosphere awkward. Mission completed, Dazai sent an email to Mori explaining what the newly deceased informant explained as his cause for the deceit. His reasoning simply being envy for the Port Mafia’s power.

Chuuya put his car in drive and whisked us away, wind plowing through me again, sitting in the same positions as we arrived in.

“What's gonna happen to all the bodies?” I turn my head left to ask.

“I sent some subordinates to clean them up, we are done for the day.” Chuuya excitedly replies.

“Oh good, I'm starving.” Dazai adds from behind us, prompting me to turn my head.

“Let's go eat something, we don't have to go right back to HQ, do we?” I say out loudly, as the wind pressure is rather defeating.

“We don't, so yes, we can go out for food.” Dazai calmly replies.

“I know a perfect place.” Chuuya announces, taking a sudden right which slides me down as I smack the car door.

I forgot to strap my seatbelt on.

Chuuya’s car suddenly speeds greatly, with the wind blowing through me, and fresh air invading my lungs, I release a breath and sit back, leaning my head against the seat and tilting my head up, while shutting my eyes closed. Chuuya turns on the radio, and blasts music while dashing and weaving through streets. The sun shining onto us.

We end up on a street accompanied by the coast, and I turn my head left to view the ocean. The waves swing back and forth rapidly, crashing near rocks. The beaches were crowded and kids were playing in the ocean. People in bathing suits and shorts flocked the streets, in a mantra of colors. On my right were rows of shops and cafes. The weather was not hot, however moist and a little humid.

I suddenly felt out of place, in my dark coat and tights. I look over at Dazai and Chuuya, who are also dressed very wrong for the beachy area we are in. In truth, I’ve never once swam in the ocean. I know how to swim, and have been plunged into the middle of oceans to sneak into armed boats for missions, having to wait underwater for minutes. However, I've never relaxed on the sand, with a popsicle, and jogged into the water to enjoy it. Thinking of the ocean to me, is freezing water in latex suits and guns strapped under them trying to weigh me down. It's sneaking onto yachts to assassinate billionaires per my orders.

“Chuuya I think that thug hit your head a little too hard today, we have specks of blood on our clothes and dark coats. Why would you bring us here, so everyone can stare at us while we eat?” Dazai abruptly asks, teasingly with a huff.

I mentally agreed, but decided to back Dazai up, “Yes, no offence, but we are very out of place.”

“You two have absolutely no faith in me.” He pouts, “First of all, no thug hit me you asshat, those buffoons couldn't even get near me.” He directs at Dazai, protecting his pride, “And secondly, take off your coats and roll your sleeves up, my friend owns a cafe here and it has good ass sandwiches.” He instructs, as he slows the car down and swerves into a parking lot next to the sidewalk overlooking the sand.

“Whatever you say, Chuuya.” Dazai jokes, stretching out Chuuya’s name at the end. He slides his coat off, but does not roll up his sleeves, as the bandages around his arms probably cover them up anyway.

I do not know what's under the bandages wrapped around Dazai, or if his eye has been hurt. However I doubt any mere man could fight Dazai and win, to the point of damaging his eye. I've a feeling Dazai’s eye bandage is more of a symbolic gesture, like a protection to himself. Out of all the things I've learned about the infamous Dazai, is that his true self is hidden under many layers of facades and deceptions. He must feel strongly about the notion of eyes being gateways to one's soul. I sense the bandage on one eye is to extra protection of his hidden true self, thoughts and soul. A bandage on one’s eye, also obstructs how much one can see, which leads me to believe Dazai has a truth he does not want to accept. As someone who is constantly killing and fighting, blocking your eyes is a disadvantage, so he would not carelessly obstruct his range of view. So Dazai’s truth, which he cannot accept, is something he does not want to see either. As much as Dazai lies to others, he must also lie to himself.

I've always been gifted in understanding and analyzing others, an irony as I can barely understand myself, but this talent has led me to read everyone around me. Dazai and I’s mutual agreement, which we have never officially made but both oddly understand, of trying to break apart the other’s mind, has led me to hyperfixate on his psyche. Dazai has a truth he cannot, or slightly can but does not want, to see, and uses his bandage to obstruct how much he can see, to sway away from this inevitable truth. What this fearful truth is, I haven't a clue. But it is something Dazai does not want to accept. He further uses his bandage to no only obstruct his own understanding, but those of others, and hide his true self away under his layers, and further from prying eyes like myself.

As I conclude that his reasoning for an eye bandage is symbolic and not physical, I turn around to take a look at his wrist and neck bandages. As much as those may also be symbolic to further protection of himself from the world and people’s touch, they must also be physical. Yes, this man has joked about sucide to me on multiple occasions, and never once did I believe he was serious. However now, thinking of bandages wrists and necks, he must indeed have attempted suicide before. Lifting my gaze from his bandages so as to not draw attention to my observation of them, I look up at Dazai as a whole.

This is the first time I've seen the brunette without a thick long coat, and only in a blouse. The bandage on his eye does little to take away from his beauty. He had also taken off his black vest to appear more casual. The man is indeed slim, but there are muscles on his shoulders and upper arms that are visible. He truly is sculpted so heavenly. His muscles are prominent but slim, with a nicely crafted collarbone. He is tall as well, but does not give a stick look. As my eyes roam around his chest, I see his hands. Long slender fingers messing around with the top buttons of his white collar, carefully undoing the top one. His fingers are slightly boney, but not in a sickly manner, in an ethereal one.

“Like what you see?”

Dazai’s sudden sultry voice caught me entirely off guard, and a slight flinch shook through me, prompting me to quickly raise my line of sight to his face, and single visible eye. He had a calm expression but a slight smirk. My eyes widen slightly, looking for an adequate explanation of my starring, and I open my mouth to steadily reply, with a gulp before hand.

“I-”

“She was probably thinking about how hideous you are!” Chuuya’s husky voice cut me off, and I turned to face him instead.

Chuuya’s comment significantly diffused the tension, and as I wasnt scrambling for an explanation my thoughts quieted down, leaving me to hear how fast my heart was beating.

Giving a small relieved smile, I was calmed down.

“Yes” I sheepishly replied with a humorous smile, “I was thinking just that.” I say turning to Dazai, with his same smirk, and sliding my jacket off. Leaving me in a long sleeved dress that had a low but not scandalous collerline, tight around my waist but flowey on the bottom, and tights underneath. I was still definitely not dressed properly for the beachy area, but it would do.

~~~~~

The next two days passed in a similar manner. As Dazai’s subordinates tailed potential victims to hopefully catch the serial murderer lurking near one, Dazai, Chuuya, and I carried on tasks given to us by Mori. He no longer called us up to his office for instructions, and just relayed tasks to Dazai. Unlike our first one however, and much to Chuuay’s dismay, it was multiple tasks day and night. Even though I'd known them for so short, I grew rather comfortable with the two during these missions. We worked well and usually went for breaks to eat afterwards together.

Chuuya had explained that Mori doesn't not usually overwork them like this, but since we would have been basically having day’s off while waiting for the killer to strike, he's been using non-threatening but tedious tasks to fill up our down time.

On the second night of this tedious work, when I got back to my hotel, a telephone was waiting for me. This was my instructed use of communication with the Legion. Before I was sent here, I was told that a wired telephone would be waiting for me after three days to relay any information I learned. I had to be using a land telephone and not a regular modern cellphone, so the call could not be intercepted. I dialed Bill’s number that night, and sat on the fluffy bed of my hotel room.

“This is agent 68.” I said

“(L/N)- It's Bill, tell us everything you've learned and witnessed.”

“It's nothing unusual. They deal weapons overseas, I do not know with whom. They also have strong ties to the government, and control the cities. I've been sent on tasks to steal items, usually technology or jewelry that once belonged to them. A few times I had to rough up some people. Most of these are expected tasks of a mafia.” I had replied

“Tasks?” He asked and added, “You were sent as a P.I not an addition to their ranks.” He questions.

“Yes I know, I've been instructed to find a serial murderer but was sent to do some things in the meantime, don't worry, I haven't revealed my trained fighting skills to alert suspicion, only techniques I could easily explain knowing. I’ve also been asked to stay here longer since the Boss wants to utilize my ability.”

“Good. But you haven't learned anything very significant? Any information on higher up members, their boss?”

I paused for a second, thinking about my newfound coworkers. Chuuya was a nice person, and nothing I said about him would be useful. Dazai was unlike Chuuya, peculiar and had exchanged more words with me, but his personal beliefs and situation was something I don't think would be useful to my boss either. And though I have been deceiving them, I felt it wrong to indulge in who Dazai is, and his few vulnerabilities Ive been able to figure out. I’d really feel like betraying him. That night, a new concern of mie, was why it hurt me to think of betraying them that way.

“No, nothing.” I’d said.

“What about abilities, have you learned the abilities of any one powerful there? We have reports of some executives' names, but not their information. Have you come in contact with Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara, or Koyo Ozaki? ”

“Yeah I-” Suddenly I could not continue that sentence, realizing that no one outside the mafia was truly aware of Dazai and Chuuya abilities, or who they were besides names. I found it very odd that I was trusted with so much information about them, and had realized that the information was precious. Surely, Mori would have been more cautious with an unknown P.I who just marched into his empire. I have not yet met Koyo Ozaki, but I have a feeling I would sooner or later.

Dazai and Chuuya had so easily and quickly told me their abilities, had trusted me with the information so soon, and quickly turned from strangers to someone I could call friends. I don't know what came over me, but my next words had haunted me all night.

“No.” I said.

“Really? Nothing, ya hadn't even met them yet?”

“I briefly met them, but only for the case, we didn't talk further.” It was as if I had been possessed, as if someone had taken over my body and replied to my boss. Even after contemplating my decisions all night, I wouldn't be able to explain why I had said that.

“Bill?” I had asked.

“Yeah (L/N)?” He replied softly.

I had known Bill since I was 12, he was my overseer. He taught me most of what I know, and went further to educate me in the ways of society, not just what I read on paper or was taught in the training room. I don't have any parents, but the man has a very slight fatherly role in my life. It might be my mind trying to substitute the lack of parental guidance with him, or he strived for me to see him in that light, but I had a more platonic relationship with Bill than just agent to boss.

“This serial murderer, I learned that he has been draining people of blood. And every person he has killed so far was regular civilians who all had abilities. He wants their blood. I was just wondering, do you know anything about this? Perhaps the Legion might be aware or have him on their radar, it's just rather odd.” I questioned him, hoping he would help me out to finish this case and return.

My lies I just uttered were in my head, confusing me and putting feelings in my heart. I never felt this way in the states, never felt so much, and it concerns me. I wanted myself to return to my previous state of being I was in only a week earlier, and that was in the Legion’s headquarters.

Bill, to my surprise, did not answer for about 30 seconds. He was silent and finally uttered,

“No, we don't know anything.”

“I see.” I replied.

“It's late there, right kid?”

“Yeah, it's night.” I said, seemingly realizing he was probably now alone in the room, and being more casual with me. Any other higher ups must have left since I had no information to give.

“Then get some sleep, you seem to have been working around the past few days. Don't forget to eat too.” He said.

“I will.” I say, trying to be casual with him as well.

“The phone will be gone tomorrow when you get back, but It'll be back in another three days.”

“Got it.” I say

“Okay then, Goodnight - (Y/N).”

“Goodnight.” I say softly.

The line ends and I put the phone down, drowning in my thoughts at what It’d just done. I got no sleep that night, tossed and turned in thoughts of what I found out. Information and abilities of the members, executives especially, and even their faces was unknown but very valuable. No one who had fought Dazai and Chuuya, and witnessed their abilities was left alive to spread the word. I don't understand why I was trusted with the information, and why I kept it from my Boss. I am already betraying the mafia with my deceit, so why did it matter to me if I relayed their trusted words. These questions filled my mind all night. My concern was why my chest felt tight when I thought of truly betraying Dazai and Chuuya. It then led me to the thought again, of why I was sent here. Why did the Legion need specific information?

It was now not only a matter of the Port Mafia, why did they need information on executives?

Why Koyo, whom I have not met?

Why Chuuya?

Why Dazai?

~~~

My phone call and thoughts last night carried on today as I stepped into Chuuya’s bright office and headed straight for his lounge chairs, dropping onto them, tired from my lack of sleep. Chuuya and Dazai, who were both sitting on the table in the middle, turned to face me simultaneously, with puzzled and humorous looks. I usually give a greeting and good morning, but was unable to do either due to exhaustion. I'm used to working day and night vigorously, but with the relaxed state I've been in these past few days, it's no mystery that my body craves it more.

“Tired (Y/N)-chan?” Dazai amusedly asks, tiling his head and shifting his chair to face me.

“Very.” I softly say, looking at him in return.

“We finished the mission early though, you should have had enough sleep?” He adds again, his voice concerned but amused as well.

“Well I did not get an ounce of it, I was up all night.” I truthfully say.

“Why? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Chuuya voices, genuinely concerned and not amused. His caringness is something I've come to admire about Chuuya.

“Oh no not at all, I've been well. I was just thinking too hard and my brain did not shut off.” I quickly say, waving my palms.

“I'll go get you some coffee then, you always have to be alert in this line of work.” He softly utters, getting up and putting his hat on.

“Thank you Chuuya-kun; I’d really appreciate that.”

“Anytime.” He says as he flashes a smile and walks out of the office, probably to a coffee shop.

I lean back into the chair, trying to distract myself from thinking. But, I'm still in utter turmoil with myself over my conversation last night. In all honesty, my whole trip here so far has made me do things that are very unlike myself. It's as if I’ve gone on auto pilot, lacking my usual control on my thoughts and actions.

“As usual you're always thinking in that head of yours (Y/N)-chan. But I don't think Ive ever seen you so distressed, what's on your mind now? Maybe you could share the burden with me.” Dazai suddenly speaks up, again in a light tone but now highly threatening.

He's trying to get a read on me.

“It's trivial, I wouldn't want to bore you.” I say with a smile, questioning my foolish decisions to protect this man’s information.

“I see, well all in good time.” He says.

He then stands up and walks over to the lounge chair next to me, and takes a seat. He leans his elbows on his knees and looks up at me, as his slightly hunched form has made me a little taller. “You’ve been keeping up well these past few days with our tasks. But I need to ask, how did a private investigator like yourself from - San Francisco - learn to fight like this. Your stamina is very high and you keep a rational head in all the situations so far, (Y/N)-chan. You use guns very well, and no this wasn't mere practice once a month, you handle them too well… I saw the way you hit that thug, on our first task with the informant, you hit his pressure point without even looking, and knocked him out.” He says now leaning up and crossing his ankle over one knee.

Though my facial expression did not change at his words, my mind was now spinning.I couldnt look him in the eye and looked down. I underestimated Dazai greatly. As much as I've been observing him, he’s been observing me tenfold. My mannerisms, my stances. He probably has many more observations he has yet to voice to me. This new revelation combined with last night's conversation is making me highly uncomfortable. I felt hot, too hot, and my head started aching. I don't know what to say, how to cover for this, but incompetence is not an option.

“I told you I was an orphan, I grew up by myself, learned some things.” I say, with a steady voice.

“I'm not here to accuse you (Y/N), but I need to let you know.” He says, while getting up once again and walking back to his seat by the table in the middle of Chuuya’s office, his dress shoes making noise on each step he takes, “I know you are not just an investigator. And as much as you want to know why Mori-san assigned you to team up with Chuuya and I, I do too.” He says as he takes his seat facing me, not taunting or threatening, however just stating his observation. “But, I need your compliance to figure it out.” He concludes.

At this, I decided my best course of action to deal with Dazai Osamu.

“Then we will figure it out together.” I say, not seeing the point in continuing my facade. He already knows. What he does not know is who I am, and who I work for, which is something I will strive to keep hidden. “I've only met Mori-san five days ago, but I know his intentions won't be easy to find out.” I add.

Dazai smirks at my words, glad I caught on to what he was insinuating, “But we’re a good team, you’ve already read me more than I'd liked you to, and I know I’ve read you. Besides what was that American saying.. Keep your friends close - but your enemies closer.” He says, grinning and crossing his legs.

“Dazai-kun, won't you be disobeying Mori-san if you sneak around to find out his intentions? If you know I'm not only an investigator I don't doubt that Mori-san knows exactly who I am.” I coolly say, when in reality I was surprised by the turn of events.

“I’ve known the boss since I was young, he is well aware I'd find out sooner or later. I want to know how this benefits him. He won't see it as disobedience if I do what I’ve been tasked in the meantime, he knows I won't betray him.”

“I see.”

“So, (Y/N)-chan, work with me, secretly, once we both learn what we are striving for, you can be my enemy again.” He says with eyes that convey excitement. “I don't make deals like this very often.”

“But you want to know more than I do. I want to know Mori-san’s intentions but you want to know who I am. I won't be telling you that.” I say, crossing my legs.

“Don't worry about that, I can figure that much out on my own.” Dazai replies, in that sultry voice I've come to know.

“What will happen when we are enemies again?” I ask.

“That depends on you, belladonna. You came to us with certain intentions - which I assure you - I will figure out. I am in the Port Mafia, so I will prevent any harm from coming to it, regardless of the perpetrator.” He declares. “But do know, you will be disobeying any superiors you have by doing this as well.”

“You needn't worry about me.” I remarck.

“Then… our temporary partnership will start right now.” He declares.

“It seems so.” I replied, still baffled at all the new revelations.

I don't know if what I’d just done was a foolish mistake that will ruin my mission, but this situation was a favorable one to being killed on the spot under suspicion. I'm well aware Dazai had the option to simply pull out his gun and put a bullet in my skull, but he did not.

He now knows I am not simply a P.I, and with this, I am certainly aware Mori knows exactly who I am. It appears Dazai is aware that Mori knows who I am, and he wants to know why.

How my arrival and newly found connection to Dazai and Chuuya will benefit the Port Mafia, when I am here to deceive it, is the question we both will now work together to answer. Dazai desires to know my real occupation, and what Mori’s plan is; I desire to know Mori’s plan as well as why I was sent here, and what the Legion wants with Yokohama.

I can't dwell too much on my conversation last night, and simply accept my foolish decisions. Leaving is no longer an option, and neither is returning to the person I was a week ago. I hope through learning Mori’s intentions, I can understand the Legion’s. I would not betray the Legion, no never betray them. But I no longer want to follow their command to the bone. I was sent here myself, and I will go about this how I see fit.

As our agreement comes to a close, the golden doors swing open and an unknowing Chuuya walks into the room, with a coffee cup in hand. Throughout this conversation, it seems I have forgotten about all my previous exhaustion, but I wouldn't mind the coffee.

He walks over to me and reaches it out, slipping into my hand with a warm smile. I give a genuine one back, overwhelmed with the warmth and calmness of Chuuya Nakahara. It's funny to me, that a man who so many fear and has taken so many lives with his own hands, is the kindest person I've ever met.

“Here, I got it sweetened. I know you don't drink it black.” He kindly says.

I look at the cup in my palm, with a true smile once again, “Thank you Chuuya-kun. Really.” I say.

“Don't worry about it.” He lightly says and sits down in the lounge chair that Dazai previously sat on. “So, what’d I miss?” Chuuya cluelessly asks.

I look over at Dazai with a grin, and he does the same.

“Nothing.” Dazai speaks up, confirming the question if Chuuya was to know, “I just got some bonding time with (Y/N)-chan, learning some things about her.” As he turned to me again humorously.

Before Chuuya could speak up, three knocks came at his door. Dazai and Chuuya turn to face each other with a questioning look, to see if either of them were expecting a visitor. When they both look as confused as the other, Chuuya calls out.

“Come in, it's unlocked.” He says, loud enough for whoever behind the door to hear.

The knobs turn and doors open, revealing someone I have not seen before. A younger boy, looking in his late teens, walks in. He has pale skin and black hair, with frosted tips. The man coughs into the elbow of his jacket, a long gothic one, with a white ruffled blouse underneath.

“Akutagawa.” Dazai’s voice calls out, and my body freezes in place with widening eyes, shivering. Not at the boy Akutagawa, but at the fearful tone of Dazai’s words, which had not an ounce of the warmth or softness it does when he speaks to me regularly. No, his voice was strict and harsh, cold. It reminded me of my mentors in the Legion, who trained me violently for weeks on end. The shiver was from the feeling I got hearing his voice, and remembering the days of that cruel training.

“Dazai-san.” Akutagawa says, in a youthfall but tense voice. A little muffled, like his lungs were full of smoke, “The suspect of the recent killings has been apprehended.”

Chapter Text

At the sudden news that our infamous ability killer has been apprehended, all heads turned towards the pale sickly thin boy, Akutagawa.

The man has been caught, and so quickly. This revelation lightened my mood and left me a little shocked. Today has been rather eventful, from allying with Dazai to our suspect’s apprehension. I took a little pride knowing my plan was able to catch the killer so competently, and only in three days as well. Though Yokohama’s domestic affairs meant little to me, I was curious as to who this man is, and what his motives are.

“And where is he?” Dazai asks, prompting me into another internal grimace. Dazai is still speaking in his tone of voice strictly for mafia purposes, and it is not a delightful tone to hear. His whole aura changed so drastically.

“He is in a cell to be taken towards the torture chambers.” The boy timidly but swiftly answers.

“Who has been chosen to torture him?”

“Kouyou-san is in charge at the moment, Dazai-san.”

At this Chuuya abruptly stood up with a sour face, and exclaimed, “We’re the ones who caught him, he should be under our jurisdiction!”

I could tell Chuuya was upset that he wasn't given the autonomy to decide what to do with the new prisoner, and would rather drag answers out of him himself.

“Koyo is skillful in the art of torture Chuuya, calm down.” Dazai retorts, now turning his back to Akutagawa and facing me:

“We can pay him a little visit nevertheless.”

~~~

The three of us rushed down the purple hued halls of the building once again, down to the torture chambers. It seems Dazai knows exactly how to get there which does not go unnoticed by myself, alas, I am in no place to judge. I now have to work with this man to uncover secrets and deceptions around us, so his extra sets of skills will be useful. Akutagwa keeps up with frantic strides behind Dazai, whose long toned legs allow him longer but faster strides, his grey coat fluttering behind him. It seems the boy is a subordinate of Dazai’s, but not those expendable men in black suits, he's more of an apprentice.

As we were walking, Dazai started to introduce us, keeping his quick but calm pace.

“Akutagwa, this is investigator (L/N), she’s in a current partnership with Chuuya and I.” He says gesturing his hand over at me and slightly turning his head to the boy behind us.

Still keeping up with the pace, I turn my head with a smile and nod at the boy, uttering a:

“Hello”

The friendly greeting was not reciprocated as Akutagwa scowled at me, averting his eyes from my face as if I was poison to his vision, and turning back to his mentor Dazai.

“Dazai-san, why bother with a wench like that, she's nowhere near your equal footing.” He distastefully says.

The minute the words leave the young boy's lips however, Dazai’s march ceases, and he turns his head 180 degrees behind him with a cruel glare. My eyes slightly widened as a shudder and horrified expression passed through Akutagawa. I suddenly felt pity for the boy, since what he had said affected me in no way and he must now withstand the truly terrifying aura radiating off of Dazai towards him. I know that though Dazai is not an honorable person, we had become friendly coworkers and just formed an alliance basically admitting to each other that the other is, in fact, on equal footing, and he would probably not let a rude remark like that pass. As a sign of respect moreso, and not protecting my honor or pride. Akutagawa's words truly did not affect me, as most peoples comments towards myself don't, and now he must face wrath for it. What I’d done to produce such a reaction off of the boy, I do not know, but no one in this grey world is completely mentally sane.

He may have an inferiority complex of some sort, I do not know, but must de-escalate the situation.

“Dazai-kun its fine, he probably didn't mean-”

“Akutagawa” Dazai’s sharp voice cut me off, as he turned to face the boy fully.

Akutagawa visibly gulped and looked down, as if waiting for his punishment.

“You will not speak so carelessly about your superiors, and especially not about my partner, who Boss himself recognizes, you foolish boy.” Dazai’s tone was curt and threatening. With those eccentric brown piercing eyes glaring down at the boy. All his years of mafia work certainly did him justice, because even I got goosebumps, and froze in place.

The boy did not lift his gaze as Dazai’s right hand started to rise, I quickly understood that intimidating words would not be the end of his punishment. As if seeing my own childlike self standing there in the white halls of the Legion headquarters, the ice on my skin melted and I stepped forward to protect the boy.

“Dazai-kun-” I muttered as I softly grabbed his hand before it landed on Akutagawa's boney cheek, a strong flinch visible through the boy.

As if being pulled away from a trance, Dazai turns to me wide eyed and angry, looking like he was about to pounce at whoever had dared interfere in his lesson, but once his eyes landed on my (s/c) skin, his anger dissipated, and only an unreadable expression laid there.

“Dazai-kun it’s okay, he’s a kid and they say odd stuff a lot. It's probably puberty.” I say with a weak smile, ironically a little frightened by Dazai’s expression.

His lips turn into a thin line, and eyes dart me up and down, then back to the boy who still kept his gaze on the ground. As he studies me further, and eyes my distressed expression, his hardened expression softens and his hand that was still in the air with my palm encircling his bandaged wrist, lowered. Instead of pulling his hand away however, like I'd expected, he slid his palm to mine, and gripped it.

Dazai’s grip tightens on mine, and he still does not speak. I am in utter confusion at what had just transpired, but glad the poor boy was not hit. I did not ever see Dazai as a man who used force as a means of discipline, and a small spark of uncomfort emerged through me at that fact. And at the fact that the very hand that was just about to strike a young boy is now clutching onto mine like a stress ball. Violence does not issue me, however physical abuse for discipline is something I had to go through as a child, and when I think about it, for an odd reason I cannot identify, my chest hurts and stomach turns. My unease however, is not directed at Dazai, but at the essence of the action. Dazai has his reasons for the unethical discipline, but the remnants of my heart go out to that young submissive boy, who looked at his mentor like he was the steps to heaven. I saw myself in him, that Akutagawa.

“I suppose then - just words will suffice for now. You don't need me to repeat myself to understand why what you just said would lead to punishment, yes?” Dazai suddenly says, exhaling, and somehow gripping my hand tighter than it was before.

“Ofcourse.” Aktuagwa utters, a little breathless as well. Seemingly paralyzed from fear.

“It's done then.”

Without another word, Dazai turns back around, his front towards our original path, and turns to Chuuya and I:

“We should get going, this is wasting time.”

“Uh - yeah let's go.” Chuuya, who had not spoken up at all, said awkwardly. His turquoise eyes latch their gaze on Dazai and my intertwined hands, and lingers there for a moment. He then coughs, and stuffs his meticulously crafted hands into his coat pockets, while turning his heel and walking off.

Dazai’s legs start moving again as well, tugging on my hand with his, as we start walking down the hall once again.

No further words were spoken from Akutagawa, who quietly strutted behind us. I turned my head to view him for a moment, but the boy refused to look back at me, and kept his gaze at the back of his mentor’s polished black dress shoes. In fact, no one spoke up again as we rounded corners and went down some steps, as I just followed my two partners.

I am grateful that my relationship with Dazai was at a point where he would show respect for me, and not completely hide the fact that we were on equal footing. The idea that this was another form of manipulation, that this was to butter me up slowly, had crossed through my mind. And though I knew Dazai’s manipulation was just beginning, this action did not seem like one.

I was drawn out of my tactical thoughts when we reached another staircase, this one was dark however, and seemed to lead underground.

“The tortue chamber is just down here.” Chuuya says, stepping aside and motioning the stairwell as if he was showing off some historical landmark.

“Why is it underground?” I asked.

“It's so no one has to hear the screams of prisoners being tortured…” Dazai pops in to inform, still holding my hand but a soft grip.

“I see.” I replied.

The legion has torture chambers aswell, but they were never connected to my wards of headquarters, and I was never allowed inside them.

“If the stuff down there is too much for you, Akutagawa will take you back up. It’s gonna be bloody and gruesome.” Chuuya says out of consideration, now in front of me. It slipped my mind for a moment that Chuuya still thinks I'm a simple investigator, and now that one of them knows that is not the case and not the other, I suddenly felt slight guilt at the secret.

“I think I’ll be fine, but thanks.” I murmur, a look of thankfulness on my face.

“Be my guest” Chuuya says with a smile, turning down the stairwell, Dazai, Akutagawa, and I following down in tow.

After about 11 steps we got to the bottom, a large grey room awaited us. Its sealing was high, and lights flickered. The entire room was concrete, with cell doors in the back. Various chains hanging from the ceiling and walls were also seen, and ofcourse lots of blood. Splatters of dried and new blood painting the entire chamber. As we walk further in, I could hear a woman's voice coming out of one chamber, behind a door on the far right.

The cell door abruptly slides open, and out walks a magnificently stunning woman. With a tall fit figure, long plum red hair, long legs, and a beautifully sculpted face, a woman looking to be in the same age range of Mori-san appeared in front of us. She was in a traditional yukata, with slight blood around her lips. In her hands were two hair clips, which probably meant she had her hair pulled back usually, so she must've got her hands dirty. With pretty dainty fingers, the woman lifted them up horizontally to her slightly open mouth, wiping the blood away, her beautiful red eyes glowing.

“Ah Dazai-kun, Chuuya-kun, here for our new prisoner?” She says looking at them, like a parental figure in their lives, “Oh and you must be (L/N) (Y/N), the investigator that helped us catch this pest.” She then adds, looking to me with a genuine smile.

I give a bow, “Yes, it's a pleasure.”

“Aswell.” She replies.
“Kouyou-san” Dazai speaks up, “I must say, I'm rather hurt you started without me.”

“My apologies Dazai-kun, this matter was urgent however. But you’d be glad to know I managed to pull one thing out of him so far.”

“Which is?”

“The man is American.”

Chapter Text

The cool crisp air of the Port Mafia hallways surround me as I pace back upstairs, away from the torture chambers. There was no sound to be heard, save for the clack of two pairs of shoes, mine, and the bandaged mafiosos. I wish I could say I could hear the sound of birds singing, and sweet smell of lavender flowers; but that would be untrue and delusional to claim while trapped in these mazes of halls.

At the news of our american killer, Dazai immediately looked at me - with suspicion. He eyed me with calculation, probably trying to make a connection in his head between my arrival, and this killer. Chuuya stayed with the peach haired executive Kouyou, as Dazai swiftly pulled me out. He has not said a word, and though I've been through dozens of situations where I've been as close as a strand of hair to death, I've never felt more impending fear.

I could lie and say he did not scare me, but it'd only be foolish to lie to myself at this point. Dazai was fearful. He was not to be underestimated, and wouldn't hesitate to kill me in a moment.

I wouldn't let him of course; I’d fight back. But I was not in my own territory. I had nowhere to hide or run, I don't know the landscape here. I was dropped by Bill and Nora into this hellish place blind, with simple orders of relaying information. No specifics, no tips, no description of what would happen. If Dazai doesn't kill me here, someone else certainly would. And I know for a fact I do not want to die by his hands, or any other mafiosos in this city for that matter.

My heart beating hammers into my chest, and trying to calm my breathing, I retraced the corridors I did know to get back to Chuuya’s office. As I made a left on the corridor with the stained glass window, my grim reaper spoke.

“Not that way.” He said, not soft but not sharp, simply stating it.

I looked to my right to see him standing there, hands crossed, waiting for me.

“I was sure Chuuya’s office was to the left.” I said, slightly mumbling from fear since this was the first time he spoke.

“It is.”

He starts walking down the right hallway, and I hurry to catch up with him.

“Then where are we going?” I say, trying to hide my unease.

“My office.”

Splendid.

We walked in silence once again, with quick strides to Dazai’s office. I hadn't been there before, and just followed him. Hoping we were actually going to his office and not a soundproof room where my throat would be slit. The fact of the matter is, Dazai’s ability will swiftly cancel mine if he touches me. So for me to order Dazai not to kill me, or use my ability fighting him in any way, I must evade any skin to skin interaction. I am completely unaware of how well Dazai's fighting abilities are, but given that he is the most feared executive in the Port Mafia, I would put it as extremely well. I am extremely well aswell, and can evade him from ending my life, but evading touching him in any way is tricky.

After taking two additional rights, Dazai stopped in front of two double doors. Not golden like Chuuya’s, no, these were black. Perfectly imitating the gates of hell, where I will surely end up if I cannot convince this man to believe me.

A jiggling noise emerged as Dazai took his keys out of his pocket, and proceeded to unlock the black wooden doors. Swinging them open once they are, and holding one for me to walk in first.

What a gentleman.

Dazai’s office was a complete opposite of Chuuya’s, not surprising given how different both men are. When you first step in, the wall directly in front of you is an enormous bookshelf that stems across the whole wall, neatly filled with books. Dazai’s office is no smaller than Chuuya’s, but it seems so because it is more filled. To my right, was a big brown desk, with a wall of glass behind it. To my left, near the wall opposite the glass, were two dark green lounge chairs with a small coffee table in between. Dazai had no table in the middle like in Chuuya’s office, and instead a persian carpet, which is dark green as well.

He closes the double doors, locking them, and goes to sit in his desk chair, a mini throne like Mori’s. Dazai is most likely his successor however, so it suits him well. He gestures for me to sit in the chair across from his desk, and while I walk over, I do not sit. I stand in front of his desk, giving me more movement should Dazai try to attack. Sitting will restrain my reaction time.

Seeing as to what I was doing and why I was not sitting, Dazai smirks. However immediately after remembering his suspicions the smirk falls on his intimidating face.

Before he could utter an accusation however, I begin:

“I have no connection to that man.” I say it strongly.

“You are both Americans.” Dazai grimly says, his voice sharp and intimidating, but not hostile.

“There are 328 million Americans in the world, Dazai-kun.”

“How many Americans are connected to abilities in Yokohama? (Y/N)-chan.”

“I swear to god, I do not know that man, nor why he needs the blood of ability users. I know of him as much as you do.” I say, not pleadingly, but genuine.

“You don't believe in god.” He retorts.

“How - when have I ever said as such.” I said, puzzled.

“You haven't. I don’t believe in god either, so I know you don't.” He adds.

“You - then what higher power do you believe in?” I sigh.

“Science.”

“Okay then, I swear to Darwin, the only thing I have to that man is the country we came from, I do not know anything about him.” I try to reason.

“Darwin?” Dazai asks, amusingly with a smirk.

“Yes Charles Darwin the evolution man himself. If you don't take my word from my swear to god then do it to Darwin, whom you believe in.” I say.

“I won't take any of your swears, they don't mean anything.” He says as he pushes off his feet and rises to a stand. The desk in between us.

“I understand they are only words, but they aren't false. I vow on our alliance. I can't tell you who I am more than why I am here, but I will tell you I have nothing to do with the killer. I am in the dark as much as you - as much as anyone here in the Port Mafia.”

“You can't prove it.” He simply says.

“Because there is nothing to prove, I have no correlation to the man.”

He still stared at me with his one visible eye, probably not believing a word. There was no expression on Dazai’s face. I couldn’t tell what he was contemplating. I usually get a sense when reading in between what Dazai says but he was not speaking, staying completely silent.

“Why would I put myself in this incriminating situation?” I further say, softly. “If I came here knowingly about the killer, and that we were both American’s… that it’d be so obvious we might be in cahoots I'd be a fool. You don't truly know me, but surely, you don't think I am a fool.” I looked up at Dazai, who was still quiet. And start walking over to him, slowly.

I take a step.

“You concluded I don't believe in god because you don't believe in god.”

Another step.

“You would throw the man off the cliff as the most selfless option, and you knew I would find it the most selfless as well.”

Another step.

“You would spare it if it was a child, but still throw the bystander even if it was a man with the cure to cancer, and you knew Dazai-kun, somehow you knew I would do the same thing too.”

Final step.

At this step I was directly in front of the man, who had stayed silent with his hands on his sides, observing me.

“Would you come to the Port Mafia, with a killer to catch, and that once you do it would so obviously incriminate you?” I ask. “You wouldn't Dazai - I know you wouldn't.” I look up directly into his eyes now, searching for an answer,

“So why would I?” I whisper softly

Seconds pass where neither of us move a muscle, trying to catch something in each other. I could tell Dazai was thinking. He is always thinking, and at the moment no doubt about all of this. The silence grew so loud until it was uncomfortable to my ears, but finally, Dazai spoke.

“You wouldn’t” He says with a sigh, looking down to his right.

“I know.”

“But your superiors, they would.” Dazai suddenly says, looking back at me.

“What?”

“The people you work for (Y/N)-chan. I still have to figure out who they are, but I can tell you right now, they might be connected to the man.” Dazai says, not accusingly this time. It seems I got my point across.

I quickly retort:

“They wouldn't-” But cut myself off.

My head suddenly replays my conversation with Bill the night prior. I asked him if he knew anything about a serial murderer here. He didn't answer right away. I thought nothing of it, but now that Dazai has brought that up, it alarms me. Bill said no, the answer was a simple word, so why did he stay silent for so long. It's wrong but I've found myself questioning the Legion more and more every minute.

“I - I am not sure.” I divert my gaze down and utter.

“You are (Y/N), you know it.” He says, walking closer.

I don't look up, too confused. I have no right to be upset, it’s my superiors right in what they say and not say to me, and it bothers me that I am upset. Even if they did, this wasn't my mission. I should not concern myself further in this case, I was here for information. It should have absolutely no effect on me whether they are connected or not, whether the truth was kept from me or not. It shouldn't bother me so. Why does it bother me this way, it shouldn't- I am probably mistaken. Yes, this was a simple coincidence. Bill wouldn't lie, he paused for no significant reason whatsoever.

“Look at me,” Dazai says.

I do not move.

“(Y/N)-chan”

I hear my name, but I'm too lost in a trance to register it. Too irritated at my irritation for being lied to. I've been lied to countless times. This whole mission, its purpose is being kept from me. I want to be treated as a person to them, I do - but then I remember my pledge. How for rescuing me, I've devoted my life to the Legion. That my soul has no value. I believe it myself, I see myself this way. So of course. Of course if I see myself in this way, others will too. I don't see myself as an individual, as important, as human, why would I expect the same respect and treatment from others. This is my own fault. I’m too incompitent for humanity, individual humanity. It's of my own shortcomings, I'm too incompitent to know. My superiors are doing what’s best for me, yes, I-

The feeling of a palm gently grabbing my chin pulls me out of my trance, and suddenly I can see the ground once again. I gasp in air that I didn't realize I wasn't breathing, and can see black dress shoes, a dark green persian carpet, dark wood flooring peeking out underneath.

Dazai’s office, Dazai’s shoes, Dazai’s carpet.

My face is tilted upward from the warm fingers grasping my chin, and my eyesight is diverted to the face of my partner. His brown soft hair, bandaged eye, sharp jawline.

Dazai slides my face into his palm, now locking onto my jaw and cheek instead of my chin. He opens his mouth to speak, and now I can hear him.

“They would, (Y/N)-chan.” He softly says, holding onto my face. I was close to him now, but not too close, it wasn't intimate, but it was not platonic.

They would. He is right. They would, and they did.

Slowly I nod my head, keeping my eyes on his. He softly retracts his hands from my face, and stuff them in his pockets.

“They would.” I murmur in conclusion.

“If I kill you now my questions will remain unanswered.”

“I see.”

So I'll believe you for now, and spare your life.” He says.

The corner of my lip turns upward at this, and a slight smile takes over my features.

“Ofcourse.” I utter.

Dazai, still standing before me, takes a step back and takes out his phone. He looks at it for a moment before sliding it back into his grey coat pocket.

“It's almost time for lunch.” He says, “I’ll call Chuuya and see if he has finished, we can all use a meal right now.”

“How long do you think it will take for the man to break, and tell us what we want?”

“I’ll give Chuuya and Kouyou-san three days. If I go in myself, well he’d be pouring out words like a toddler who just learned to speak in a few hours.” Dazai says with a smirk.

“I wouldn't doubt it.” I say.

~~~

Chuuya had finished. Apparently the man gave them his name, and a thorough background check will be conducted tomorrow. Chuuya’s unsuspecting heart had no suspicions between me and the man, as that is the case, and had no hostility towards me.

We went for lunch in a restaurant, since Mori has not assigned us any tedious tasks, and gave us some free time. I was told it was a small reward, for catching the killer in less than a week, compared to the three weeks he had given us to do it. The lunch was mellow, consisting of small talk, and food. Afterwards we returned to the building, and I parted ways with Chuuya who went back to the torture chambers to get the man to talk.

Dazai and I went up to his office, where he had split some paperwork with me. The paperwork were accounts of the missions we’d gone on for the past three days, what had happened and how. Any specific deaths.

It’s apparently important to Mori how many people one has killed if they can account, and what's gone on. The missions were, as I told Bill, stealing jewels, getting back cargo, safely delivering cargo and whatnot. Very mafia-like tasks.

I sat on the lounge chairs and leaned onto the coffee tables, filling out some papers, while Dazai did the same at his desk. We worked in silence for about an hour, diligently working through the pile.

“(Y/N)-chan” He says, ceasing his actions of filing paperwork.

“Yes?” I say, still finishing up the paper, not looking up.

“Would you like to go to a bar with me?” He suddenly asks.

I stop writing and put the pen down. Furrowing my eyebrows as I look up at him.

“A bar?” I ask.

“Yes.” He says.

“But I don't drink.” Last time I drank I sunk myself in a whole for a week, drinking away. I have not been permitted alcohol since.

“That's fine.”

“I guess, then yes, sure. When would you like to go?”

“We can go now, I have some associates there that I usually see.”

“I wouldn't be intruding then, would I?”

“No, no you wouldn't.” Dazai says as he gets up and walks over to me, extending his hand to help me up.

I take it and he pulls me to my feet, retracting his hand to his sides.

“Lets go,” He says, walking over to the door, and pulling it open for me.

~~~

The bar wasn't far; we decided to walk there, as Dazai usually does. It was early evening now, and a small chill could be felt through the soft wind that had locks of my hair fluttering around me. I had left my coat in Chuuya’s office, and was now in a dress and tights, but I wasn't cold. The chill of the wind was calming, like a massage to my muscles. I exhaled a breath and momentarily fluttered my eyes shut as we walked in a straight path towards our destination, Dazai walking by my side.

I realized that I've spent a significant amount of time with the man. It doesn't feel as though I've only known him a week, and maybe that's because the manner of our relationship has changed so vastly since we met. Since he barged into Mori’s office without a care in the world and locked eyes onto mine. Without a care in the world. That is certainly how Dazai Osamu portrayed himself. But it is completely inaccurate, and I've seen through it. I've seen through his masks, not to his core, but a few layers. Maybe that's why I feel as though I've known him longer. We are alike as well. Under all our layers we are two cowards, hiding behind masks, confused and scared. We are lonely. Alone in this world. I feel our attachment to each other has stemmed from reveling in loneliness, together. We both dilute ourselves and try to find purpose in our lives. Our insignificant lives compared to the universe. I've given myself a delusional purpose with the Legion, and he likely with the mafia. But as I've said once before, before my endeavors here, I am not brave. I have cowardly attributes, and so does Dazai.

He looks for his purpose so diligently here, as if one could find it near death. It is what he believes though. We are very much so, alike, Dazai and I.

We made a turn onto an alley, and Dazai pauses to gesture to the sign:

Lupin.

A man with a monocle, with the name Lupin. A door in an alley behind some steps. The place was hidden, fit for Dazai I guess, and for me as well. We are all hiders, even the bar. Looking for protection behind the mist of an alley and stairs.

“This is the place.” Dazai says, leading me towards the few steps near the light brown wooden door.

He opens it and walks inside after me. The bar’s interior was very vintage. Burgundy hues with a polished brown bar, red stools seated in front. It was small, and cozy, a grandfather clock to my right. I walk further in, and see a man seated on one of the stools. He was facing the bartender however, an elderly man with white hair, cleaning a round glass with a rag. No one else was there.

The man seated on the stools must have heard our footsteps, because he looks over his shoulder at Dazai. He then catches me standing next to Dazai, and gives a very slight smile.

Friendly man.

“Odasaku.” Dazai says with a nod, affectionately.

I take note of that, the soft affectionate way this Odasaku was regarded. He must be a friend. Dazai isn't as lonely as me, I surmised. He does have a friend, and even if he does not see so, he has Chuuya aswell.

“Dazai-san, Hello. Good evening.” He says.

Dazai, with his palm ghosting over my lower back, leads me to a stool. He takes the seat to my left, putting me in between the two men.

“Odasaku, this is my temporary partner (L/N)(Y/N). She's new to the port mafia.” Dazay says.

Odasaku has deep red hair, and now that I see him more closely, he has very light stubble on his chin. He reaches his hand out for me to shake, which I do.

“Oda Sakunosuke.” He says, “A pleasure to meet you.”

His voice was deep and low, however very pleasant. It was slightly husky, but velvety as well. Deep but not overbearing.

I smile with a nod, “The pleasure is mine.” I say.

“So (L/N), what do you do?” He asks.

“Please, call me (Y/N). And I am a private investigator.”

“I see.”

“What do you do?” I ask

“I'm just a low ranking member, simple stuff. It's not very exciting.” He says slightly smiling the last part, as he swings his glass and takes a sip.

The liquid in his glass was dark, burgundy. Liquor.

“Don’t say that Oda, you drink every night with an executive after all. That's exciting” Dazai chimes in.

“Is this where you run off to everynight Dazai-kun?” I teasingly ask.

“Yes my belladonna, I come here to bother my favorite mafia member.”

I snort and Odasaku gives a chuckle. He's a handsome man, Oda. Unlike Chuuya and Dazai however, he was older, probably in his 30s. He wore a black button up and beige coat over it. He wasn't as thin as the two executives, he was lean yes, but his muscles were slightly more prominent.

“Can I get you two anything?” the bartender asks, interrupting my appraisal of the pretty older man.

“The usual please.” Dazai says, to which the bartender nods.

“What about you, young lady? What can I get you?” the bartender now asks me, looking at me expectantly.

“Uh- what do you have?” I ask.

The elderly man wholeheartedly chuckles nicely, with a smile, “Alcohol young lady.” He says.

I smile as well, “No I know that, I mean besides the alcohol. I’ve stopped drinking at the moment.”

“Ah well, we have tomato juice, water, apple and orange juice, and lemonade.” He kindly says.

“I'll take a lemonade, please.”

“As you wish.” The bartender says and turns around to fetch our drinks.

“Tomato juice,” Dazai snorts, “Only Ango drinks that crap.” He informs me.

“Ango? Ah that man in the filing room. He comes here too?” I asked, shifting in my seat.

“Usually.” Dazai says, leaning his forearms on the bar, “Where is Ango-san?” directing his question at Odasaku.

“He can't make it tonight, something about being buried under papers and work.” Oda answers, taking another swing of his drink.

“Mhhm, that sounds like Ango.”

The bartender comes back, placing a lemonade in front of me, and liquor in front of Dazai.

“So, (Y/N), how are you liking the port mafia so far?” Oda asks me, leaning his elbow on the bar and turning to face me.

“It's - well it's very different from where I’ve worked.” I answer, aware that my answers will clue Dazai in on my true identity.

“Worse?”

“No, definitely not worse. Just different.” I say.

“You’ve heard of Dazai’s reputation by now, haven't you?” He suddenly says with a humorous smile.

“Somewhat, yes”

“There's a saying in PortMafia.” He starts

At this Dazai perks up, giving the red haired man his full attention.

“The biggest misfortune for Dazai’s enemies., is that they are Dazai’s enemies.” Oda says, taking another swing of his drink.

A burst of laughter erupts the otherwise quiet bar, coming from none other than Dazai himself. One hand clutching his drink and the other clutching his stomach, he starts wheezing.

“Oh Odasaku” He says breathlessly from laughs, wiping moisture off his eyes, “You never cease to amuse me.”

Odasaku just chuckles.

“That makes very perfect sense, Oda-san.” I say with a grin.

Chapter Text

My limbs were beginning to ache as I started to lightly pant. Racing down corridors in my black skin tight suit, Dazai and Chuuya running behind me. We sprinted down the long elegant and lit hallways of the museum, red curtains adorning huge detailed crystal windows on the third floor.

Suddenly a man in a black suit emerged from the corridor but before I could react he was already shot down by Dazai, the sound of the bullet piercing the halls and alerting other guards of our location, however there wasn't any quick way around it.

We kept going, passing that hallway and onto our left where a grand staircase was held. Dazai, Chuuya, and I all paused momentarily to look at each other and give a nod. At that we all take off on sprints up the stairs, Chuuya and I on the right one while Dazai took the left one. We kept going, but before we could get to the top another man with a gun emerged. I swiftly detached my gun from my thigh strap and shot him down, not once ceasing my hurried steps upward. He fell flat on his back at the top as we kept forward, jumping over him and emerged on top of the beautifully detailed staircase.

“To the left!” Chuuya shouts, as he was tasked with memorizing the floor plans of the museum.

We all kept a steady sprint and took a left, emerging into a new mantra of exhibits. As more armed men emerged into the room, Chuuya activated his ability, flinging statues and tombs towards any person there that was not the three of us. Screeches and groans could be heard as we kept running. Chuuya turned every exhibit we crossed upside down, not caring about the ancient history these statues represent. Smashing thousands of years old podiums and artworks just to leave the mission unscathed; and I would do it as well.

“Where’s the exit Chuuya?” Dazai yells out loud, a few pants and breathes mixed into his words.

“We gotta take a few flights of stairs down and then we’ll get out.” He yells back, as a man was just swung across the room screeching.

“We can't just jump out a window?” I ask, taking a sharp right after Chuuya, as we found ourselves running through long wide halls full of old japanese paintings.

“I can, you two would die though.” Chuuya yells back huskily.

A man emerged in front of us again and I raised the gun now just in my hand and shot him square in the chest, he collapsed sideways.
“I have no problem dying as I jump out of a window with (Y/N)-chan.” Dazai yells breathlessly, as he majestically swings a kick to the man who appeared next to him from the hallway we just passed, effectively hitting the man's gut and knocking him into the wall.

“Dazai-kun, this is not the time for double suicide jokes.” I reply, backhanding someone with a punch onto the ground.

“Who said I was joking?” He says with a smirk as he now kicks stomps on someone’s back, using them as a stool to jump over.

“Do us a favor and just shut up Dazai!” Chuuya yells, running in between us.

As we just effectively took out everyone in the hall, we kept running straight down, at a very fast pace. I was starting to sweat, it's been 15 minutes since the alarms went off from us on the 6th floor and left us fighting and sprinting our way out.

“Left!” Chuuya yells.

At the left was another enormous grand gold staircase, however we were on top and just had to run down. Easier said than done.

We kept our fast run down each step, still keeping an ear out for any footsteps behind us that weren't ours. We got down and kept running, Chuuya now panting lightly.

“Right!” He yells.

As we took a right we saw a great sight for sore eyes. Metal walls being released downwards on both sides to enclose us in the hallway. Chuuya however, activated his ability stopping the metal block some feet above the air. None of us cease our running as we simply lean down and slide through the doors, my back having to slide down the ground to fit through. I panicked for a second, it slipped my mind that Chuuya could simply use his ability to stop the doors.

As we went under those and stood up once again, we kept running. Running down another staircase that wasn't as grand, and to the right, a hallway with glass walls now on the second level. As we went down further towards the exit, which was this way, we all stopped.

Metal doors suddenly clamped down on us, and in front of them on both our sides were two dozen armed men. It appears the ring and necklace in Dazai’s coat pocket is very important to these people.

“Shit.” I say, looking at either side. We could take down both these groups of men, however we were in a time crunch. The piece we stole was something Mori requested, a jewelry piece that the previous Don of the Port Mafia had owned. It was taken from him one day by the government, who put it on display in the Yokohama History Museum. It appears Mori-san isnt the only person wanting this back right now, and that in about five minutes the whole museum will be surrounded by government agents, some of which are ability users.

We are significantly stronger, yes, but dealing with them is a hassle none of us want to deal with today. I look at Dazai, for a plan since he usually has something up his sleeve, but he simply gives me a smirk.

“It looks like we are jumping today, (Y/N).” Dazai said with a grin, and before I could process what he had meant, Chuuya grabbed my arm, and gestured towards the glass window before us, about 30 feet from the ground.

“Get ready.” Chuuya says, looking at me.

“Oh god,” I say, as the three of us take off for a sprint towards the glass window. Chuuya uses his ability to shatter the glass completely into mounds of pieces, some slashing at my skin. Bullets are zipping past us from men on both sides, shooting to kill before we can escape. We keep running though, and in three hopeful steps I launch myself off of the building.

Two stories high, the three of us merged into the air flung hard downwards. However, as if the gods have left me a miracle for horrific deeds they had put me through, I spotted a large pond under us. Water would break the fall, unfortunately for Dazai, who would not get to meet his end so soon. After a few moments which felt elongated and slow motion when being flung across the war, I submerged underwater. The cold algae infested water sinking into my hair and clothes. Though water broke my fall, I came down with such velocity that my limbs feel as though they are being ripped apart. My whole body is in pain, and though I'm running out of air quickly, I need a few moments before I can pull myself out of my sinking form. The pond is much deeper than at first glance, and it must be natural for it to be this deep.

After a few moments, when I simply could not hold my breath any longer, I emerged from the confines of the water. Swimming upward my head reached the surface, and I gasped loudly, inhaling deep breaths. I swam over to the side of the lake and pulled myself up onto the grass in the garden of the museum, hunched over coughing and inhaling breaths. I put my palm onto my stomach to steady myself, coughing the dirty water out of my lungs. When I calmed down, I realized how freezing the water was on this already cold day, and shivered. Shivering, I turned around to find my partners, who I would surely berate afterwards for ruining our thought out plans by arguing and sounding the alarm, reducing me to this cold, wet, angry shivering mess.

Chuuya was hunched over a tree, wringing water out of his hat, and Dazai was standing to the other side in front of some rose bushes, readjusting his bandages. The bandage on his eye was wet, and if I inspected his face would probably see through it onto that eye he hides, however I held respect for the man. He would not appreciate me doing that, so I tried not to linger my gaze on the damp bandage on his face for too long.

“We should go now, before others arrive.” Chuuya says, pulling himself off the dependency of the tree and walking towards my completely soaked form with his hand out to help pull me off the ground. I took it and got up, wobbling for a moment before regaining my bearings.

“There's a car waiting for us a few streets over, let's discreetly make our way there.” Dazai chimes in, as we all trudged to the car.

~~~~

When I arrived at the Port Mafia Headquarters, Mori was surprisingly sitting in the lounge, with a young blonde girl on his lap. She looked about five years old, with a lolita red dress and big round blue eyes. She seemed to be whining about something in a very high pitched animated voice, while Mori begged her while saying her name,

“Elise, darling, you must listen.” He said.

“No.” She then replied, crossing her arms and pouting her face.

I hadn’t ever heard of someone denying Mori so outwardly before, but when I looked into Mori’s slightly lustful eyes gazing at the young girl, I decided to never question their relationship. For my sanity and respect of Mori-san, I was better off not knowing.

“Beautiful, oh just beautiful.” Mori exclaimed when looking at the jewelry Chuuya handed him with sparkling eyes.

“These would look so dashing and stunning on my Elise-chan!” Mori said, then gesturing to the box to the young blonde girl, “Do you like them?”

“I guess..” She said, trying to control her excitement of the gift with her tone rather than eyes which said it all. She did like them.

Once Mori took into account Dazai and I’s appearance, he sent us straight to the doctors quarters. We were littered with cuts and shards of glass, both soaked and shivering. Mori gave a surprised comment at the fact that Dazai would finally for once get treatment for wounds here, and directed us the way.

Since Chuuya was relatively fine, he went up to do the paperwork of our mission. Dazai and I slowly trudged towards the office as we were both very tired. Laughing at each other every time one of us wobbled onto the wall and having to latch on and lean to it to keep forward.

After about 10 fits of laughter, we made it inside. I knocked on the door, where surprisingly, Yuki opened.

“Yuki-san!” I say surprisingly with a smile to the youthful boy, feeling a bit dazed for some reason.

“Ah Miss (L/N), hello!” He said cheerfully, but suddenly grew worried upon seeing my appearance, “Miss! What happened, please come lay down, let me tend to your wounds.” He started fretting.

I tried to step forward but suddenly felt off. My sight started being splotchy and blurry, not being able to keep myself upright.

“Dazai?” I turn to my left, seeing Dazai standing there as well, starting to grow worried.

“Dazai-kun, why are there three of you?” I ask before slipping forward, losing all control in my limbs and eyes fluttering shut.

The last thing I heard was Yuki’s yelp, slightly yelling a “Miss!” before I was engulfed in darkness.

Warmth. I felt warmth when my consciousness started to come back to me. My nose picked up on some scents, cedar and pinewood cologne. Woody but slightly sweet. I furrowed my brows, still half conscious, wondering why the smell I’ve concluded as the cologne Dazai wears is in my nose.

Where was I again?

For a moment I’d hoped I was in the US. At the legion base, in my room devoid of any individuality. But then I remembered all the chaotic events my life has brought me to experience. Or the gods have condemned me to, I couldn't tell which. If this new chapter in my life was a blessing, or a curse. It seemed to switch between the two.

Ah, the mission, yes. We completed it, tediously but successfully, and I passed out in front of the office. I must be asleep in their bed then. It's so warm, I thought. Soft too. The smell of cologne was familiar, and as odd as it is to think, comforting. Dazai was one of the most dangerous deadly people I knew, yet his signature smell was comforting to me. Again I find myself full of irony and contradiction.

I shifted a little, my consciousness shifting between waking and sleeping once more. My body needed rest, but my mind did not, and I willed myself to awaken. Upon opening my eyes, I was met with soft light from a window near me. I was in the doctor’s quarters of the mafia. It was refreshing really, the light wood hues and accents around me, rather than dark purple and red hues of the hallways. The room was large, a long wooden desk in the front on the wall with bookshelves over it. Next to my bed, was Dazai’s sleeping form on the other bed in the room.

As I raised myself into a sitting position, I noticed I was in a knit sweater and sweatpants.

“Your clothes were too wet.” The sultry voice besides me which belongs to Dazai announced.

I looked over at him laying on the other bed, gazing at me.

“Who changed them?” I asked, looking back at the unfamiliar clothing.

“I asked Gin to come do it. You don't know her but I figured you’d want a woman undressing you rather than myself or anyone else here.”

“Yes - that’s considerate of you, thanks.” I said with a smile, still a little drowsy, “Why’d I pass out?” I lay back down flat and turn my head to look at him, he does the same with his head.

“You had a high fever from plunging into freezing water when it was already cold, and staying in those clothes until we got back here. The Yuki boy you're so fond of inspected you and cleaned your wounds.”

“Oh.”

“We have some days off again, for your sickness and for getting the jewelry.”

“I see, that’s good. I’ve honestly been tired as of late.” I say, thinking back on everything.

Arriving in Yokohama, the ability killer, lying to my boss and concealing information, missions, bonding with my partners, allying with Dazai, and lastly being deceived by my boss. I still don't know what to make of it.

“We should start formulating a plan.” Dazai suddenly says.

“I agree. But where do we start?”

“Once we have information on the culprit that Kouyou has been torturing out, and our database racks up his name and details, you should find a connection between the man and your people. I’d help you but for that I’d have to know where and who you work for, which I don't.” He informs me.

It’s silent for a few moments, us simply gazing at each other. Dazai’s expression was unreadable, and mine conflicted.

“I haven't given up any information to them, and I don’t know why.” I abruptly say, looking up at the ceiling, not really paying attention to what is exactly coming out of my mouth.

“What do you mean?” Dazai asks, very intrigued but trying not to show it to coax more information

I turn to look at him once again, “To my people. I haven't told them anything about you or the mafia, I lied. I haven't a clue as to why. It was so impulsive, but I don't feel like I did the wrong thing.” It must be my fever clouding my judgement from attempting to get consolation from my enemy. No, I thought, this is okay. We aren't enemies right now, we formed an agreement. This is okay for now.

“They hid things from you as well, so it’s only fair.” Dazai says, never taking his eyes off of mine.

I broke eye contact to look down, but since my head was turned to him with my body flat on the bed, my eyesight was crooked. “It’s not - I shouldn't be like this.”

“Like what?”

“So..” I look back up at him, his form still mimicking mine, never once taking his eyes off of me, “So full of thought and feeling.”

“You aren't usually full of feelings?” He asked.

“I suppress them.” I say with a shake of my head, fully losing my self control to the effects of the fever. The fever urged me to let go, like I’ve been wanting to. To give in to the impulse of the human heart.

“Why, why do you have to suppress them?” He further questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“The same reason you do, Dazai-kun; it's our line of work.”

“What’s your line of work?”

I paused for a few seconds, digesting his question. I responded by giving him the look, the look that says I could not tell him, even if I desired so.

“I can’t -” I say, furrowing my brows and looking down, but looking back up at him again with a slight regret, “You know I can't.” I said softly.

“I understand. It's fine, don't tell me. It's better that I find out on my own so you don't get blamed or blame yourself later.” He now says, looking at me but also looking lost in thought, not fully comprehending what was coming out of his mouth either.

Silence engulfed us once again, as we both attempted to clear our thoughts.

“When did you come to the Port Mafia?” I asked. I don't know anything about Dazai’s past, and would like to.

“I was around 14.” He stated, “Boss took me in, but he wasn't the head at the time.”

His answer was vague, and I decided not to push it. If he wanted to talk about it more he would’ve.

“I see.”

“What about you?” Dazai asks.

“What about me?”

“When did you join your - line of work?” He asks, using that phrase since he does not know exactly what it is I do.

“I have no memories of a time when I wasn't in my line of work. And my memories are clear to me at about 6 years old.” I answer, devoid of any feeling towards the statement. I was indifferent to it.

“Ah.” He says.

“Yeah.” I reply.

“So that’s why you didn't know what a vampire was, and lots of other things you're oddly fascinated by.” He points out with a slight soft smirk.

“Yes, It appears so.” I say laughingly.

“Dazai-kun?” I ask.

“Yes?” He says, looking at me once again.

“Yesterday you said you didn't believe in god, why is that?” I asked.

“Why don't you?”

“No, none of that. I asked you first, so you must answer me with an answer not a question.” I berated him playfully with a smile.

“God is overrated.” He says, deciding to comply for once.

“How so?”

“People believe God gives care to perfection and harmony. But he does not. If he did, and was all powerful like it is said, the world would be much more harmonious. It won't ever be perfect, but it could be peaceful. Where was God for those in The Holocaust? Does God really only appear when one sins, but not when starving children are dying in war ridden countries?” He says, waiting for me to reply.

“I agree. People thinking reciting a prayer will help them, that God will help them. I think it’s foolish depending on him, and I won't take my chances. I was raised by atheists however, so I know not the extent of how much solace one can find in faith either. I probably could never though, I look at things too logically.”

“Yes, I am the same.” He says, looking at me softly.

“I'm tired again” I say sheepishly with a smile.

Dazai smiles as well once more, tenderly, “Sleep then. You're sick so you should rest.”

I nodded before fully turning my body over, still facing him, and nuzzling into the pillow, pulling the blanket over my head.

Chapter Text

The next few days I had spent recuperating. I went back to my hotel and locked myself inside my room, my sickness getting worse the next day. I ordered room service and took pain killers until my fever had finally subsided. Tomorrow, I’m scheduled back, and I am surprisingly glad. I need to get out of my room. 

However tonight I had the tedious errand of reporting back to my superiors in the Legion. Oh, how I’ve dreaded this night. I ran a few debates in my head, how I should approach my grievance, or if I should approach it at all, alas, I've decided to confront Bill. I want to accuse him, be angry with the man. But it isn't a smart way to go about this, I must be more tactical and strategic. For I have read too much Machiavelli to take this issue head on; no, I must use the beautiful tactic of deceit! 

The clock struck 7:00, and that signaled me that it is time to phone the Legion. Dropping out of the fluffy and soft comfort of the four poster bed, I made my way over to the coffee table of my room, where the telephone lay. 

With depressing fingers I spun the numbers into the right order, the telephone making a small beeping sound to let me know it was doing it’s job correctly, something I seem to be lacking at lately. 

“Agent (L/N) Hello.” The comforting middle aged male voice that I had wished to hear was not what graced my ears. No, it was the cold, stoic, and insincere sweetness of Nora’s voice. Bill's partner. 

Where my relationship with Bill became more platonic, Nora and I’s relationship was strictly agent to superior. I was never exactly fond of her though. 

I didn’t speak for a few moments, my whole speech for Bill disregarded in my head. “Nora, Hello,” I said, attempting at respect and hiding my disappointment, “Is Bill there?” 

“Oh he’ll be here soon, but why don't we have a little chat, just the ladies.” She says, a sickening sweetness dripping from her tone. 

“We’ve never had a lady’s chat Nora,” I taunt, my voice dripping with sarcasm in response.

“Yes, but being away from home makes little girls rebellious.” She voices through the telephone, the threat evident from her tone.

Oh, oh, really, her words ignited anger in me.  “I see, are you just looking out for me? Scared I did some bad things now that I was away?” I put a pout in my voice before switching seriously again, “Don't worry Nora, I’ve never spread my legs for any man, and still havent; but thanks for worrying.”  

Everything Bill wanted for me, Nora had opposed. I suppose, my pent up distaste for the woman was over ruling any rationality in me. But what was it, Oscar Wilde had once said in his work?

"I wonder who it was defined man as a rational animal. 

It was the most premature definition ever given. Man is many things, but he is not rational"

-Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

It seems he was right. 

“Oh dear (Y/N), I guess I was wrong then, but you did learn some things.” She says so obviously insincerely, “I didn’t know the Port Mafia taught disrespect and disobedience.” The last part came out angrily, through grit teeth. 

“Well they teach it with pride.” I replied, adding a fake sweetness to my voice as well. 

“Speaking of the Port Mafia, you mean to tell me you don't have any information for us?” She now diverts, in a condescending voice. 

“If I had your information I’d have informed you minutes ago to get off of this meaningless chat with you.” 

I was astonished with myself. Never in my life had I spoken to her in such a way, like my last conversation with Bill, I felt possessed. This wasn’t me, the words coming out of my mouth sound like something I’d never say aloud, to someone who I’d never say it to. 

The line went silent for a minute, Nora giving no response. I leaned back into my chair, trying to calm my temper. Really, I was better than this. But once again, I found myself urging to let go to the temptations of man. The impulsive, irresponsible, selfish and irrational temptations I was beaten into getting rid of until now. 

After some moments, noise came through the telephone once again. “Hey there kiddo.” Said a voice that came off muffled.

I released a breath, a small smile forming on my lips. I was relieved to hear the ruggedy, gruffy middle aged voice of my superior. 

“Bill.” I uttered. After feeling the pain of speaking to Nora, I was grateful Bill was in my life. 

“C'mon (Y/N), why are you arguing with Nora?” He asks, not in a lecturing tone however, in a soft one. 

“I don't report to Nora, I report to you.” I justified, “Why did she answer your phone?”

“I wasn't in the office, she was.” He informed me. 

“Is she still there?”

“No, I told her to leave.”

“Good.” I voiced, however directly afterwards, I abruptly remembered my past grievances. My voice was growing hard as I replied, “Bill, we caught the killer I had told you about.” 

He didn't answer immediately, once again. Which confirmed my suspicions. My previous adoration was long forgotten, as dread filled my heart. He had lied to me, led me to this. 

“Oh, that's great. I'm proud of you.” He says unsteadily. 

“He’s American, did you know that?” I said slowly, dragging my accusation. 

“I didn’t.” He said, starting to build up anger in me at his lies. 

“You didn’t?” I asked, “We both know that’s a lie” 

Bill didn't reply. My earlier decisions of being tactical and strategic were flung out of the window. I was much too aggravated at the moment to go around my questions in circles until I pinpoint an answer. 

“They are pulling in his records as we speak, well actually I’ve been sick, so they might already have it at their headquarters.” I further informed him. 

“You're sick?” He asks, concerned, “Are you feeli-”

“Answer the question Bill,” cutting him off coldly, I demanded. 

“You never asked a question.” He defends. 

“My apologies, I’ll ask it now very clearly,” I replied, my voice void of any emotion. 

This side of me has been repressed for the time that I’ve been here, but I wasn't a top trained agent for nothing. The cold tone of my voice would draw shivers down spines, my daggers dug into so many chests. I was also a force to be reckoned with, and though I keep it tucked away, I want Bill to see the type of person he’d raised . 

The way he spoke to me, like I am his daughter on a vacation. Sometimes I think Bill forgets that I could slit his throat in his sleep. Or maybe his desire for a family,for having a child, were pushed onto me. He ignores who I truly am, what he’s done. He forgot when he sent me to Moscow two years ago; sent me to assassinate all those former Soviet Officials who American spies claimed were having secret meetings. I left Russia with my kill count finally rising over 150, and a peculiar interaction with an ability user by the name of Fyodor, who had, in fact, given our spies the information. 

A sudden anger took over me, the anger I felt when I realized how much I’ve been lied to, and when I accepted that I did desire to be treated humanely. I had the sudden urge to let go, the same urge from earlier, but it was stronger. I was hurting, for all my confusion and subconscious scars, I was hurting. I speak to Bill too nicely, like the daughter fantasy he pushes onto me, so I switched my tactic. If I was to be treated like an expandable agent, then I must speak like one too. 

Crossing my legs and leaning back, I started.

“Did you, or did you not, send me into the fucking feild, to catch a serial killer you yourself had let loose. Do you know how many innocent people he’s killed, how much blood he has drained? Oh sorry, I’ll make that two questions. They raided his residence yesterday, I got a call. But they found no blood, so what the fuck do you need with the blood of ability users.” 

My voice has never been colder, and my tone never calmer, with a threatening intensity of anger. The line went dead silent for about 20 seconds. I could hear his breathing on the other end, his erratic breathing trying to be calmed. 

“Listen kiddo-”

“No, I am not your kid. I am agent 1871. And as my superior, I need to know what the hell is going on.”  

Bill didn't reply right away, digesting what I had just cut him off to announce. 

“Agent (L/N), 1871, we didn’t tell you for good reason.” He slowly says, his tone sounding like a zoo keeper steadily approaching a lion in its den. Still, with all the zoo keeper’s protection, it was still scared.

“Then I’d like to hear your good reason.” I announce. 

“Listen, if you went in there knowingly, it wouldn't be convincing enough.” He starts, “And if you're ever tortured for a connection or information, you don't know anything, it's for your own safety.”

So full of shit.

“That's just you telling me you don't have faith in my skills Bill, that's utter bullshit.” 

“No really kid-, I mean, um, Agent (L/N), if you know everything you yourself are at risk.” Bill's attempt at convincing sounded extremely pathetic. 

“So there’s more then.” I laughed bitterly, “There’s more that I don't know! How fucking marvelous.”

“It’s for your own good.” Bill raised his voice, yelling, “For gods sake kid, if they torture you right now. And you know everything we are doing, our plans will be ruined.” He sighs frustratedly. 

“What plans Bill. Tell me, what are the Legion’s plans?” I yelled through the phone, slamming my hands down on the coffee table, however lowering my voice, “Or do you even know, are you just a puppet like me?” 

“You are on a need to know basis.” He tightly responds, his voice growing colder. 

“Why did you send me here? What do you want with Yokohama, with the Port Mafia.” I started to grow erratic, I didn’t know letting go felt so good. I was ravished by this. The power I feel, the repressed emotions I carry starting to overflow, “You dont stand a fucking chance, did you know that.”

I started to taunt, taunt the man. I was now beyond angry.  I had a feeling, that day those weeks ago, when I first made my way into the mafia’s building. I had reprimanded myself for suppressing everything I feel, that one day it would overflow. I didn't know the day would come this soon, but everyday here was different, it felt so much longer. In the U.S, all my days were the same, the same routines, assassinations, assignments. I did them alone, drank afterwards, slept, and repeated. Months went by in mere minutes for me, but no, not here. 

“I cannot tell you anything further (L/N), and you will be reprimanded for your behavior once you are back.” Bill stoically pronounces. 

“Don't tell me, no don't. You dimwit, if you attempt to come here and screw up the mafia then I’ll give you a goddamn warning Bill. You don't stand a chance, no Dazai would crush you all himself.” I started to laugh again, bitterly. “The mafia does not give a shit about humanity, but you came into their territory, took their peoples blood for whatever fucked up reason. That's really funny, oh you're so dead…. What happened to the Legion’s purpose, huh. What was all that crap you taught me growing up,” I started to mock in his voice, “The Legion was created after world war 2 to keep a balance of power when abilities emerged in different countries.” I taunted, “So now the balance of power requires you to kill innocent civilians, drain their blood. Oh, Mori-san is not happy.” 

He didn't reply, and I just kept cackling like a maniac one the phone, getting off on this power high. 

“You’ve met them then,” Bill drags, “Osamu Dazai, the executive, you’ve met the man?” He says seriously, “(L/N), you don't understand how crucial it is that we know his ability and information, that was your job. If you tell me right now, good information, I’ll forget all about this conversation.”

I giggled even more, really, his audacity. “Why would I tell you? When you’ve all lied to me, sent me here on a mother fucking suicide mission. They always said the Americans were crazy, I never understood… Go screw yourself” I finalized, slamming the telephone back into its place and getting up. 

I grabbed my coat, slid on some boots with a scarf and left, needing some air.

I left my phone in the room, my head was too filled. I briefly remembered someone having told me to expect a call from them, but it flew by me like a fly. Running down the steps instead of the elevator, I made it down and out of the lobby’s front doors, scurrying onto the streets. 

We were in the middle of winter, so of course the sun was setting at 7 pm. It didn't matter though, I knew where I was headed straight to. The cold wind sent shivers down me, plowing through my hair, prompting my teeth to shiver. But, a little cold won't deter me. 

Making my way into the liquor store I had seen many times while driving to my hotel, I pulled my coat tighter around myself. A bell above the door jingled as I pushed it open, stepping inside and past the cashier who muttered a welcome. I was in no mood to reply. 

I marched into the beautiful isle of sin, the alcohol isle, pulling out some cheap vodka. Clutching the huge bottle of vodka in my hand, I walked to the front desk, pulling out a crumbled $100 bill. I softly slammed it onto the counter in front of the cashier, whose eyes lit up like a child staring at candy. 

“Keep the change.” I remarked, and without batting another eye I left. Into the chilly streets of the Japanese city I have grown so fond of. 

I barely made it to an alleyway before impulsively popping open the bottle, a way I’ve done so many times before that was quick, efficient, and did not need a pesky corkscrew. 

I swung it up in the middle of the sidewalk, not caring about any passerbys, and leaned my head back, letting the bitter liquid scorch down my throat. Five long seconds, I gulped down sip after sip, some of the vodka dripping down my chin, a sticky feeling. Finally, I pulled it back, wiping  my mouth down with my arm, the drink burning down my throat. 

I kept walking until I found a quiet alleyway with a dumpster near the wall. It was dark now, the sun had set completely. I stumbled a little, the alcohol making its way into my blood. I was always a light weight, no matter how much I drank. 

I leaned back onto the wall in a standing position, lifting my head up and closing my eyes. A few seconds passed before I started bursting into tears. They just started falling, I started sniffling. I couldn't control it, and before I knew it, cries were coming out of my mouth like a mantra. With tears still bursting, I slid down the wall onto a sitting position. 

My throat was becoming horse from the burn of the alcohol and howls leaving me. Every few minutes I took another swig of my drink, and cried some more. Weeping, I tried to wipe my eyes. My fingers were almost frozen though, they would barely move, and shakily I swiped them across my cheeks, but it didn't matter, my tears just fell like rain in the spring. 

I felt so ashamed, so foolish. I could never explain what came over me, where my sudden burst of anger came from, why I even care what happens to the Port Mafia. Is that the issue, have I come to care for my two partners. 

I was the dimwit, who kept deluding myself otherwise. Ofcourse, of course I cared. That was my one flaw, my humanity. It’s in my human nature to care. Whatever the Allied Legion had thought they could do to me was obviously not thought out well enough. No matter what you put one through, how much tortue, training, beating; whatever name you give it; you cannot wipe the essence of humanity out of someone. You can dehumanize them, train them, brainwash them, but the pesky humanity that is in someone always fights back. 

It is a parallel to the human race, who will always fight back as well. We humans, are so flawed, in so many ways. We don't know when to give up, we are impulsive, irrational. We look to instinct, fight over instinct and logic. We care. But that is our essence, and you cannot wipe that from a person. 

I kept drinking, mulling these thoughts over my head as I wept, loudly. I felt pain, and I couldn't hold it in any longer. 

I cared, yes, I did care. I care for Chuuya, and I care for Dazai. How foolish, for I know they do not care for me back. At that thought, I wept even more. Angry at myself, for letting my heart fall into its desire to care and nurture something. 

“There was an animalism in the soul, and the body had its moments of spirituality. The senses could refine, and the intellect could degrade…

...As it was, we always misunderstood ourselves, and rarely understood others.”

-Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray.

“What do to, oh what to do?” I murmured to myself, drunkenly. 

It’d been about 45 minutes, my weeping had yet to stop, and my bottle was almost finished. What to do, I thought. I doubt my relations with the Legion were okay now, I had never done anything like this before. 

Maybe they’d send an assassin to me, I thought. Funny, I can't wait to send him or her back for them in a body bag. I'd have to change my hotel though, I’m unaware if the room was wired or watched on surveillance from somewhere. It wouldn’t have mattered beforehand, but now it does. It wasn't my intention, I kept saying to myself. I didn't intend to make it seem like I’ve turned my back on the Legion, but if Bill takes it that way, I doubt I could blame him. 

Sniffling, more tears and weeping sounds came out of me, my shoulders and chests intensifying from the rattles of my cries. I closed my eyes, taking a final swing at the vodka. I’d finished the bottle. I couldn’t think of what to do at the moment, how to feel about the future, what I’d done with my relation to the Legion. I was far too drunk.

My eyes were unfocused, pupils moving around but unable to identify anything. I kept murmuring random phrases and words through weeps. My body was shivering as I leaned onto this wall, in this random alleyway. My hands are shaking from the cold. It was still early winter, and Japan was on the brink of snow. 

I suddenly wept harder at the fact that I’d be sick again. I'd disappoint yet another superior, another organization. I’ll probably need another few days to recover from this cold, and I started cursing myself. Putting my head in my head and weeping even harder. I never knew the warmth and love of parents. People who support and love you unconditionally. You’d never need to prove yourself, to prove your worth to stay as a top asset. An asset is all I’d ever be, to whoever my owner was. Be it the Port Mafia or the Legion. 

After a few more minutes of crying with eyes shut tight, letting the empty bottle slip out of my hands and rolling onto the pavement, my body started swaying. 

I was swaying back and forth, but I wasn't doing this to myself. With my eyes closed and my body being pushed back and forth, I furrowed my eyebrows. Sniffling, I tried to focus. I could then feel the grip of two arms on my shoulders, trying to gain my attention. 

I opened my eyes to be met with the figure of someone kneeling before me, I saw a gray coat. As I raised my blurry eyesight, I could see a tuft of brown hair, and a white bandage across the young man’s face.

Dazai. 

“(Y/N)”

I could start to make out the sound of my name. 

“(Y/N)” 

It was said with such intense concern, but I was dazed and confused. 

The swaying of my body stopped as my face was taken into two gloved hands, one on either side of my cheek. 

I could see clearly now, Dazai’s face, his eyebrows furrowed with worry, gazing upon my shaking, drunk form, and puffy tear stained face. He was kneeling in front of my splayed form against the wall. His nose was red from the cold, with vapor coming out of his mouth when he opened it. 

“Dazai?” I asked, breatheslly. 

“(Y/N)-chan what happened, what are you doing?” He asked, his eyes racking over me. 

“You-” I said staggeringly, I was highly intoxicated, but I felt a strong need to understand the situation, “How - did you, uh,” It was hard to form sentences, “How did you know where I was?”

He looked at me puzzled, “You were supposed to wait for my call, I had told you I’d call you.” He said, stroking my cheek with his thumb. My face felt warmer with his hands over it, “You didn’t answer after I called many times. It was odd, I got worried.” He said it so seriously. 

A giggle escaped my throat, as I sent a crooked smile. My face was starting to freeze from the cold nevertheless, as vapor came out of my mouth as well, “The Osamu Dazai” I said with a humorous grin, “Was worried about someone. I find that hard to believe.”

Dazai's lips turn upwards, “I find it hard to believe myself.” 

I didn't reply, just shaking my head. I picked my droopy hands up, and shookly placed them upon his cheeks as well, but as I did this, Dazai’s expression panicked. 

“Your hands are freezing.” He said, putting his palms over mine and engulfing them with his. He looked at his hands enclosing mine with furrowed brows. 

“I am freezing.” I croaked out, suddenly very aware of the dark street and freezing wind around us. 

“Let's get you out of here,” Dazai says, standing up and pushing myself up with him. 

I couldn't stand though, I had to kneel onto the man for support. Suddenly, as I felt bile rise up in my throat, I pushed away from him and scurried towards the wall, placing my trembling palms on the brick and emptying all the alcohol from my system.

I stood there, my form leaning onto the wall coughing. Once I was clear that I was okay, I turned around to see Dazai pull me into his form. We made our way into his car, my legs stumbling and being dependent on him. 

Once inside, I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to sober up as Dazai started the car, turned the heater on, and drove off. 

~~~

About 10 minutes into the drive I had realized he wasn't taking me back to my hotel, but I chose not to comment. 

“Dazai-kun?” I said, finally loosening up from the warm heat blanketing my bones. 

“Yes (Y/N),” He answers nicely. 

“I’m-” Oh god, I started sniffling again. I couldn't even tell why I was crying, “I’m sorry - and thank you.” I said while wiping down a single tear cascading down my face. 

“No no none of that,” Dazai says, encouragingly, “This is what partners are for.” He adds as he takes one hand off of the steering wheel and reaches it towards me, grabbing mine. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve picked up Chuuya when he was drunk off of his ass in the middle of nowhere?” He says jokingly. 

At that my sniffled mixed in with laughs, imaging Chuuya having to call Dazai out of all people for help. 

“No really, he’s such a lightweight. I once had to find him drunk on a park bench in Kyoto at 3 am.”

I started laughing more at that, the mafioso laughing alongside me. I was still drunk, but I could digest what he was saying. 

He made a turn into a street that took us into the docks for shipping containers. I slowly furrowed my brows, confused on why we turned into here, I didn’t see any apartments or houses near, and I had assumed we’d be going to his place. 

“Why are we here?” I asked, turning to him. 

He didn't reply as he pulled the key out and hopped out of his car. Making his way onto the other end to open my door, and helping me out, keeping steady hands on either side of me to keep me upright.

He led us to a certain container, taking out a key and opening the door. I stepped in still highly confused, but that led to a different emotion when I laid my eyes upon the room. There was a single futon on the ground, with a lamp that Dazai had turned on in the corner. 

The shipping container had a fridge in the corner, as well as a desk and chair. A fan was also placed in the room. My heart dropped, but I didn't want to pity him. Dazai would see it as high disrespect, and so I contained my feelings inside, not showing my sadness on my face. 

“Why do you stay here?” I asked however, “You make a lot of money with the mafia, don't you?” 

Dazai looked at me, trying to read my eyes. He slid his jacket off and draped it onto the seat, losing his tie as well. 

“I have my reasons.” He simply answers, indifference in his tone. 

I nodded and made no further comment. 

Dazai held my hand, and wordlessly pulled me over to his futon, sliding off my puffy jacket to get me under it, and tucking me in. He went over to his seat and sat, leaning his head back. I didn't say anything at first, and laid on my side gazing at him. He looked tired. 

“How did you know exactly where I was?” I asked the question that was itching in my mind. 

He opened his eyes and turned his head to me, 

“Call it my intuition.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” I then questioned. 

He kept his gaze on me, and finally uttered, “here” 

I grew concerned, sleeping on a chair? In his own home; I guess if that's what I’d call this place. 

“No.” I said, while scooting back in the futon, “It’s freezing and you can't sleep on a chair.” 

“I can, and I don't get cold.” He remarked while shaking his head, trying to get comfortable on the wooden chair. 

I got out of the futon and walked over to him, gently grasping his forearms to pull him up. Dazai complied shockingly, and allowed me to lead him over to the futon, where I laid him down. I was still not completely sober, and thought nothing of my actions. It was a nice feeling though, being able to do what you want to without hesitance. So I placed myself next to him and rolled the blanket over us, our shoulders touching. 

Dazai didn't say a word, and simply looked at me. Again, I was in too much of a daize to even attempt and identify his emotion, and simply turned sideways, draping my arm over his chest. 

“Goodnight.” I murmured, before hugging onto him, and snuggling my face into his shoulder, completely unaware of the extent of my actions. 

Chapter Text

My mind began regaining consciousness as I started to stir in my sleep. I felt a vessel of heat near me, warming me up, which rang oddly in my mind. I’d never woken up with warmth radiating next to me. 

Still fighting off unconsciousness in my drowsy mind, I felt control over my arm return and I’d realized it was draped over something softer, and warm as well. I turned and latched on to whatever heat is next to me, deciding the somewhat squishy article that had also latched on to me was pleasant. 

It radiated heat, and I unconsciously snuggled into this heat, basking in its graces. The coldness that comes along with the burden of life is what I wake up to every morning. The dark and icy depths that this cursed society offers me so wholeheartedly is all I know, and every dreadful and depressing mindset with it. But the peculiar warmth next to me seems to be dowsing the icy cold away, and keeping my soul far from its reach. I kept grasping at it, this warmth that seemed to protect me, I didn't want to let go. I reached tighter to the vessel of warmth, latching on to it. 

However, the sound that graced my ears washed away my sleepiness completely and alerted me. A soft groan was heard through my ears, and my eyes snapped open. A male’s voice. 

At the realization that my head was not laying on a heated pillow, panic swept through me. My head was laying on a chest, it was not bare, but it was a man’s chest regardless. And now that I was more aware of my body, I could feel a hand that did not belong to me stroking my hair. 

I also realized that I was wrapped around this man like a koala, our legs intertwined and my arms enclosed around his torso. His other hand not stroking my hair, was around my waist.

Goosebumps erupted all over my skin as I registered the predicament I was in, and still not fully aware of every event that led me up to this moment, I lifted my head slowly to see the face of this man. 

But before my eyes had even graced the man’s features, bandages wrapped around his wrist that was rested at my waist was near my line of sight had my eyes widening, and as I continued up the bandages around his neck completely told me who I am next to right now.  

I was fully awake now, and fully confused. My brows furrowing and my heart pounding, the hand in my hair still stroking it up and down. 

I was frozen as well, torn between getting up or pretending I was asleep to prevent awkwardness, but, much to my dismay, neither of those options became available to me. 

“Are you awake?” Dazai had voiced, his voice groggy and husky in a morning tone. 

Of course, he would know I had awoken, he is somehow aware of every action, even before it has been committed. 

“Um, I am.” I replied unsurely. 

I was certain that he would have ceased his action and gotten up immediately, but his breathing pattern stayed the same and his hand kept stroking my hair. Neither of us moved a muscle. 

Becoming more aware of my bodily actions, I noticed my tight hands around his torso, and felt very awkward about it, my cheeks heating up. 

“Sorry.” I muttered in a whisper as my hands loosened up, one of them snaking away as I simply laid my other palm flat on his chest. 

I wasn't sure what to say, so we lied in silence for a few minutes, his hand never ceasing his action through my (h/c) locks. I surmised one of us was waiting for the other to move, but we also didn't mind each other's comfort. I was cold too, the sound of hard droplets of water on the ceiling of the small shipping container started to fill our ears. 

“It’s raining.” I remarked, adjusting my head on his chest, not ready to address why we were still holding on to each other. 

Dazai didn't speak, and the thin walls of the shipping container did little to muffle the hard droplets. It was pleasant, I thought, to wake up with someone next to you. It was still too early for my brain to enter a state of alertness and insecurity, where I would question my bizarre actions, and scold myself. 

I simply breathed in and shut my eyes, I felt him do the same. I know we didn't do anything last night, that much I wasn’t fretting about. I suppose I understood in a way, Dazai’s strange actions as well. As much as his presence has become a rather comforting feel and less an interrogation for me, he probably felt something similar. But then again, as I was a coward, so was he, and we would never address it, or confess to each other that we perceive the other as a semblance of pleasantness. I am fully aware that his manipulative tactics have lessened, as his actions have become more genuine. Well, as genuine as Dazai can be. I on the other hand, am not exempt from guilt, my manipulative tactics have lacked as of late. 

Dazai and I were so keen on figuring eachother out, filing each other into graphs in our heads, to understand each other's enigmas. But it seems it has all been for naught, as we are more similar than either of us would ever dare to admit. Similar in upbringing, mentality, and views. I realized it was foolish, to try and break apart Dazai’s mind, to attempt at understanding him. When I can barely understand myself, I doubt his mind would make more sense. 

More than a foe, we’ve become, and I dare to even utter, friends. 

I closed my eyes, involuntarily snuggling closer to him, as he tightened his hold around my waist. I didn't know what he was thinking, what wild thoughts ran rampage in his cluster of a mind, but really, it was rare that I did. 

So we laid there, holding onto each other like lovers, when we were enemies, in his small shipping container, while rain enclosed the world around us in it’s blanket of revelations. 

After some significant time, Dazai started to shift, dropping his hand from my hair and getting onto his elbows as I lifted from his chest, “We should probably get ready and go.” He said, looking at me. 

I nodded and got up, the events of last night starting to become very clear in my mind. Dazai had stood as well, going over to the small desk and sliding his black vest up his arms and around his torso, closing up the buttons. 

I lifted my coat from the ground and slid it around myself as well, closing the top and tying the belt around my waste. I didn’t want to think about where I stand with the Legion. 

“Dazai?” I voiced. 

“Hm?” He said as he slipped on his grey coat with haste, flattening the collar and picking up his black tie that was also laying loosely on the table. 

“I need a new hotel room, preferably with an alias.” 

Dazai turned to me slightly confused, but I didn't miss the subtle smirk that threatened to grace his lips, “Do tell me your reasoning.” He quipped, “I can only help if I know why.” 

Sly bastard 

He fully turned to me, standing before my form as I gave a sigh. 

“My people,” I released with a breath and slight shake of my head, “I pissed them off.” 

Interest flashes in his eyes, or was it confusion? It left too quickly for me to decipher, and his lips now turned upwards fully, “I’ll see what I can do, don't worry.” He adds, “Is that why you were in such a frenzy last night? Drinking away?”

With a humorous sigh, I teased, “Yes you nosey pest,” I gestured as I swatted my hands at him, “That is part of the reason.” 

He looked like he’d wanted to ask more, but as I never pushed and respected his boundaries when asking outward questions, he did the same. 

“You told me you didn’t drink.” He states with a tint of accusation in his voice. 

“I said I didn’t drink pertaining to when you’d asked me the question,” I informed him with raised brows, “That didnt mean I never drink.” 

He chuckled at my statement, and I looked at him with furrowed brows, but before I had the chance to ask what was so funny, he continued, “So that’s why you looked at my drink so longingly at the bar.” 

“Precisely,” I joked, straightening out my messy hair. 

“Ango had done a full background check on the killer yesterday and handed me the file, I hadn't opened it yet.” Dazai starts to inform, walking right up to me so that I had to slightly crane my neck to hold eye contact, “Chuuya and I decided it was best to wait for you, as we all had a hand in catching him, your’s the biggest.” 

My lips quirked into a mischievous grin, “Is that the only reason?” I quipped, suddenly very aware of how close we’d gotten. 

“No,” Dazai snorted with a light shake of his head, “I wanted you to be there and shoot down any accusations I’m bound to make against you if I find any possible connections.” He says, “If I deemed you a threat I would’ve come to kill you but I’d rather not do that on a 

misunderstanding.” 

His thought process and reasoning amused me, while not being entirely unexpected, I was slightly shocked that he had just outwardly told me. 

“Well, thank you for holding back your bloodlust before getting any traitorous ideas about me just yet.” I said as I turned, gesturing that we should drive to work, “I will be very glad to shoot down any accusation you have at me and the killer being directly connected should evidence point to that.” 

I realized Dazai hadn’t followed me towards the exit, and turned around with a tilt of my head and confused look on my face. 

“(Y/N)-chan?” Dazai asks, a little more seriously, “If you angered your people, should I be correct to think they gave you confirmation that they were connected to the killer and you didn't know?”  

My eyes narrow as I don't answer right away, standing stiffly in my spot. If I said yes, would this be an outward betrayal to the Legion? I suppose it didn't matter after my conversation, this wouldn't even be the tipping point of my betrayal. But still, I couldn't find it in me to blow my mission, even though it was more than likely ruined already. And I was utterly unaware at why I haven't been pulled off the field, what my mission is, and why I’m still here, in the mafia’s clutches. 

However my silence was all the conformation Dazai needed as he nodded, and I felt a sudden panic that this meant I was now his enemy. But Dazai didn't draw a gun or summon his ability, he simply walked by me and opened the door, leading us outside. 

I stepped out with him, the icy cool air blowing through me. The ground was still wet with rain that seemed to have just stopped, and moist damp air filled my lungs. 

I turned to Dazai, who stood next to me, a completely vacant expression on his face as he gazed at the ocean which was just beyond the shipping yard, “Why aren’t you going to kill me?” I questioned with a voice devoid of my personal feelings on the statement. 

Without turning his head, as his gaze locked onto the ocean ahead, he spoke, “Your people, organization, whoever you work for are using you. They are connected to the killer, but you individually are not, and it seems more likely for you to betray them right now than us.” He then turned to me, locking my gaze, “I probably should kill you at this moment.”

He utters the statement with slight exhaustion, like he’d been mulling it over since this morning, stroking my hair while deciding whether I should continue to sustain my presence on this earth. He probably could have killed me very easily this morning, with my sleeping vulnerable form next to him unable to fight back, I noted. The thought of my own death however, has long since left fear on me. I was, like most things in life, indifferent to it. Death is an inevitable factor that no man can escape from, and we must learn to accept it, take it with grace and dignity. 

I didn't answer, keeping my gaze locked into his eyes, that seemed to hold some melancholy. It was little, but it was there. 

“But as you were saying a few days ago, that you were unable to reveal any information about me to your people, I am unable to put a bullet in your skull.” Again, his tone was begrudging, like being unable to take a life is a problem that goes against his nature. He spoke of it tiredly, that he was irritated at the fact. 

“As long as you’re not directly connected with the killer, or any matters of direct betrayal for that matter, I have no reason to kill you.” He concluded, and it seemed to me as more of a conclusion for himself and what to think on the matter rather than an answer to my question. 

I didn't speak for a minute either, mulling over his confession. Dazai was never open about this thought process or opinions, so his confessions were of valuable nature. I gave him an understanding look, not grateful, but whatever sympathy I could muster in my void heart I tried to show through my face. 

“I see… But, even if I’m not here at the moment to directly betray you, my arrival wasn't on a friendly basis or intentions to help bring glory to the Port Mafia.” I admitted. 

“I know.” He replies, walking over to stand directly in front of me. 

Both our eyes wanted to say more, but we stayed silent. This was probably the closest confession of trust and friendliness we’d ever give to each other, which was uncanny in it’s own way. How we built our trust and newfound companionship on the admittance that we both had murderous ulterior intentions with one another. 

We climbed into his car wordlessly as he started to drive back to headquarters. 

~~~

We all took our respective seats in Chuuya’s office around his round table in the middle, a file laying on it, tempting to be opened. 

How are you feeling (Y/N)? Chuuya had asked me when I saw him since my days off for rest, to which I’d said I was feeling better, and proceeded to sneeze like a madman. I fooled no one, my little excursion last night extending my cold.

“Well it’s about time we open this,” Dazai announced, gesturing to the file, “This killer case has been pesky and on my mind for about enough time.”

“For the first time, I agree,” Chuuya voiced afterwards. 

I gave a smile, trying to mask my eagerness of finally opening the file. To know who the ability killer is, and put the case behind us. On the way here, I’d decided to myself that I’ll continue working here, until the Legion gives me any word otherwise. 

If they do not, then I was abandoned, and that would cement my stay here. It amused me that I’d now be accepting Chuuya’s offer to work with him, when a week ago that seemed like the worst thing in my mind. 

I’d need to change my hotel room, find a different stay. The room may be bugged, and the Legion may send assassins to me to take me out; if they concluded that my actions were a betrayal. 

With haste, Dazai snatched the file and opened it up, his eyes vibrant as he scanned the words written below. The man’s background information and any information tortured out of him were all typed up neatly here, as per Ango-san’s generous help.

“Well what does it say?” I all but barked, my hands twitching from waiting. 

Dazai chuckled, “Eager are we?” He teased, sitting up putting the file down. 

“His name is Richard Love.” Dazai starts, “He was a drunk who lost his house to the bank about 3 years ago. After that, there's not much recorded, which means he was probably taken in and trained to be used as an expendable agent. Lot’s of organizations do that,” He explained, “take drunks off the street and use them. It’ easy, it doesn't draw attention, and they don't hesitate to die since they have nothing to live for,”

Chuuya and I both nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“From what Kouyou-san’s gathered after torturing him, it appears he was instructed by an American organization, whose name he wouldn’t reveal, to come here and find ability users. I already informed you both that his address was raided, the place had no stored blood. But the basement had equipment for draining blood and the murders. There were also rooms that my subordinates found where he seemed to keep his victims. So it makes sense when he said he sent the blood to his superiors. I went to the crime scene yesterday morning myself and made sure all the reports were accurate.”

The information was less shocking to me now that I know who he was instructed by, and Dazai, while not knowing specific information, knows as well. My organization  

“But how did he send blood back to America. Wouldn’t it be caught in the mail?” Chuuya asked with a puzzled expression, a question I myself was going to ask. 

Dazai wasted no time indulging in our questions, “He didn’t send them in the mail. He was instructed to place them in a box behind a gas station, they were to be picked up after 7:30 pm. After that he didn’t know where they went.”

“We should check the station.” I commented. 

“I did after raiding his residence, there's no evidence there.” 

No one spoke for a few moments, and Chuuya decided to put the pieces together for all of us. 

“So the killer is caught, that case is done. But we don't know what all the blood is for.” He voiced a little confusion laced in with his tone, “And unless the blood isn't connected to us, it seems another organization is trying to make a move on the Port Mafia. An American based one, which we do not know.” 

As all the pieces fit into place, I got lost in my thoughts once again, now understanding my true reason for being here. I berated myself for not confirming my theory earlier, as it was now undeniable. The Allied Legion is making a move on the Port Mafia of Japan. Whatever the reason, it seems hostile; but they needed more intel before going in, thus sending me here. They needed a reason for me to be here, and sent a killer to open up a spot, somehow with luck that it succeeded and Mori entailed outside help. They also needed specific blood, probably for experimentation that I am completely unaware of. 

I find myself relieved that I told Bill what I had. Truthfully, the Legion has no right to kill innocent bystanders for experimentation that they should not be doing either, it didn't sit right with me. 

As all the conclusions fit into place in my mind, I turned to Dazai. We both held the same look, the one that holds a knowing factor in a grand scheme. 

We do know the American organization that Chuuya does not, in fact, you know it very well. His gaze all but speaks to tell me. 

When it came down to it though, should the Legion attack the mafia, was I ready to stand at Mori’s side? I was still unsure, but I pushed it aside. The Legion won't attack for a while, they’d be going in blind. So while they are preparing, I must prepare myself, mentally, aswell. 

A ringtone pierced the room, drawing everyone out of their thoughts on the issue as Chuuya held his phone up to his ear, uttering a sure at the person across the line. When the call ended, he turned to me. 

“Boss wants to see you.” He informed me, his blue eyes squinting at confusion slightly. 

I had a feeling what my conversion with Mori would entail, and pushed my seat back. Standing up to go. 

“No, just (Y/N)-chan, not you Dazai.” 

Chuuya’s voice filled the room again as I turned to see Dazai standing as well. At Chuuya’s words, he eyed me before sitting down once again with crossed arms. 

“I’ll be back then.” I said to the both of them, leaving the room. 

Up the elevator and into his office fit for a monarchy, I’d confirmed Dazai’s words that Mori knows who I am. It wasn't luck that the killer scheme worked and I’d gotten onto the inside circle of the mafia, it was all by Mori’s intention. Everything he does is calculated and thought out. All his actions have intentional reactions. If he was a king, I suppose, the mafia would run as if it were a constitutional monarchy. The early ones, I’d say England in 1689. Mori certainly isn't a tyrant, who holds all the power to himself, but he isn't a democratic leader who runs this place with three branches. Yes, an early constitutional monarchy explains his successful leadership of the Port Mafia very well. 

The two suited guards opened Mori’s double doors as I came strutting through, filing all my thoughts and putting them in according shelves in my brain to clear my mind.

 As his purple menacing eyes landed upon my form, Mori smirked widely. 

“Boss.” I said with a bow, mimicking Chuuya’s way of addressing the man. 

“(Y/N) dear, sit down.” His cool and piercing voice says, always holding the hint of amusement and edge of threat, “I believe we have a lot to talk about.” 

I made my way into the cushioned seat in front of his desk, prompting him to start the conversation. I’m giving Mori the control in this situation, to set his mind at ease and relax. If I want our chat to go favorable for me, giving Mori a feeling of control and upperhand will lessen his edge. 

“Good Morning Mori-san.” I’d said. 

“Yes, it’s a very fine morning indeed.” Mori continues, his eyes flashing with victory, “I have a marvelous offer and I'm in a rather good mood with how things are playing out.” 

“Indulge me.” I uttered. 

“You haven't been a very good spy.” Mori abruptly says, my breath hitching as my eyes snap up to him.

I expected him to know and say a form of this, but not outright and at the start. Of course, I thought. Mori is taking control and upperhand of the conversation, he’s not letting me give it to him. 

“How so?” I asked, my voice clipped. 

“Well if you had given those American’s the information they wanted I’d have to be fighting them off right now. But thankfully, for whatever reason, you have not. And I have an offer for you.” 

His eyes held a plethora of emotions, ones he wasn't bothered with me seeing, as they were visible. Mori looks as though he knows the reason, he has a knowing look. Honestly, I’d be glad if he did know the reason for my withholding of information, since I do not know it myself. 

“An offer?” 

“You may have been a horrid spy to the Legion bastards, but you’ve been an asset to the mafia. Your ability and skill has proved very useful to me and my future plans.”

I wasn't even shocked when he’d said the Legion’s name, basically informing me that he knew every detail from the start. I thought back to the deal I made with Dazai, he’d wanted to know why I was welcomed into the Port Mafia by Mori when he knew I wasn’t who I’d said. It seems Mori has either foresaw this outcome, or put his chances on it greatly. 

“Work for me, truthfully. I offer you protection from the Allied Legion, in turn for your work. You will get wages as well. And when the time comes, you are loyal to me and the Port Mafia.”

Now this part of the conversation, I had expected, and gave no hesitation as the words fell from my lips. 

“I accept.” I said confidently, my eyes sharpening. 

Mori’s smile never ceased, only growing, “I always knew you were smart.” He says, “As for their pathetic ambitions with the blood and hostility towards us, we don't have to worry now. I expect it’ll take a while for them to get ready.” 

“I expect that as well.” 

The screeching of a chair pricked the back of my neck as Mori’s eyes suddenly darkened while he stood up, his smile dropping immediately. I tensed, the energy in the room changing completely. Gone was the light shining through his glass wall, and his humorous laugh. It was as if he sucked all the energy from around us, plaguing the air with his darkness. He made his way in front of my chair, looking down at me with crazed eyes, sharp, menacing, threatening. The purple glowed in a way that looked dangerous, the light behind him further painting a hellish satanic embodiment of himself. 

“I want to be clear, (Y/N)-chan.” Mori starts, his words enunciated so clearly it was sickening, “Your betrayal of the Legion worked to my favour, and it is accepted. But-” He leans down as he snatches my chin harshly between his two fingers, prompting an audible gasp from me. His widened crazed eyes onto mine as his breath fans down my face, “I don’t do well to anyone who dares to even breathe betrayal to me. You are no longer a Legion member, you are a member of my ranks. Your life and loyalties are to the Port Mafia. Do I make myself understood?” 

I stared into his eyes, truly fearful. His fingers dug into my cheeks as he shifted his hold, the gloves puncturing my skin tightly and uncomfortably. 

“Y-yes.” I managed to spew out, my cheeks being squished together. 

As the words register into Mori’s mind, he lets go of me face as I fall pack into the chair, and he leans back up. He takes a few steps back, opening his arms widely, the grin returning to his face. 

“Welcome to the Port Mafia, officially.”

Chapter Text

One of the poorest qualities in man can easily be identified as indecisiveness. When one is indecisive, they are also ignorant and cowardice; they run around issues and problems in circles, circling a choice but never committing to it. Finding another circle and rounding that one, abandoning it shortly after. Running in circles keeps one in the same spot in life, they will never move forward, but will have the chance to fall back due to their stalling of taking initiative. 

Indecisive men can also be called insecure. They are not confident enough to stick by a choice, they do not believe in themselves and their capabilities. Maybe they understand they are incapable; but in that case, wouldn’t being indecisive add to their incapability? If being indecisive made one less capable, wouldn’t the best course of action be to make a decision?

I was led to that conclusion this morning. My indecisiveness led me in circles around my life. I was rounding a circle of the Port Mafia; and in that circle came freedom, understanding, companionship. But I was fearful of the unknown, of the unexpected, that also came with that circle, so I ran to the other circle. In there was the Allied Legion, and with it came ignorance, constraint, and isolation. My indecisiveness since arriving here had my mind spinning between circles, stuck in between my two choices, in a mindset of confusion, dread, and hope. 

However, that all ceased today. I shed my incapabilities, and finally chose a decision. One that will bring me freedom, understanding, companionship, and many unexpected events that will likely occur. I no longer have control over my stance in life; not that I ever did but I liked to believe there was some autonomy on my situation. Now I have full control of my life, but none in my situation. It’s better this way however, one should control their own self, and leave the mysterious endeavors of life up to the universe to decide, for fate to run its course. 

I was never one for predestination, I view Calvin as an imbecile. John Calvin’s teachings are ignorant and dull, further trying to control the actions and lives of his followers, however fate and predetermination to an extent can be rather comforting. I’m not a religious sap, I don't think our whole lives have been determined; that one has no control in their own salvation. But if Luther thinks I agree with him in turn, the man is wrong as well. Salvation to me, does not come from worshipping God either, worshipping God will get man nowhere but their own mental wellbeing.  

But to think that fate and predestination are completely false is not something I stand behind. One who marks everything as a coincidence is an ignorant foolish person. Fate, to an extent, is comforting. This may have been the work of the universe, that my fate has led me here, to bring new meaning to my life. Certainly, my place is not with the Legion anymore, and maybe it never was. But if I continue to dwell on my past, more circles will emerge, so I take my new situations with grace. 

Making my way back into Chuuya’s office, I am in a completely different position than the one I had left in. However when the elevator doors slipped open so I could exit, I was taken aback to see Dazai standing in front of me. 

Play the song Now ;)

His eyes are as sharp and brown as ever, as his soft curls rest on his smooth forehead. High cheekbones and a sculpted jaw, Dazai’s face holds an air of intrigue while his stance says the opposite. He attempts to look relaxed, leaning back slightly with his hands in his pockets of the gray coat he always adornes, but I could see past the facade. Dazai wanted to know about my conversation, and if his aura did not betray him for once, it’s because I know he wants to know. 

“Dazai-kun, is there something I could help you with?” I joke coyly with a grin, twirling myself a little as I step off the elevator when he slides to give me room. I don't stop though, still keeping my air of playfulness as I walk past the man. I couldn’t tell if it was because I was in a good mood, or I wanted to see a smile on the mafioso’s face. 

“(Y/N)-chan, there is in fact.” Dazai replies with his own playfulness, smirking and catching up to my side as we walk down the grand illuminated hallways, “but not here.” He suddenly adds, as my arm is grabbed and I am pushed into a room that I had not noticed at first. 

It was dark when the door was shut quickly, and I hit a wall after some steps, revealing that it is a smaller room. I can't see from the blackness that surrounds my eyes, but I can hear some shuffling, and feel the heat of a body infront of mine as he takes to stand there. The sound of fabric is heard as Dazai’s arm moves up to pull a rope, turning on the dim light of this small closet. 

Now that I can see the dimly lit room, it was but a mere closet with empty shelves. 

With a puzzled expression, I turn back to the man standing in front of me, “Why are we here?”

“I have something exciting to reveal to you.” Dazai says, his breath faintly felt on my face from our proximity. 

With an interested gleam in my eyes, I smile, “Well, on with it, you’ve got my attention.” 

“You have to learn some patience (Y/N),” He jokes, “I’ll tell you but first, what did Mori-san want?” 

I didn’t reply immediately, trying to summarize my meeting in a way to tell Dazai, but I was still unsure of whether I wanted to reveal my past. I’ve been so cryptic, but I have no further loyalty to the Legion, it shouldn’t necessarily matter. 

I suppose I was nervous, even scared, that once Dazai knew my secrets then he’d deem me no longer worthy of his time. That Dazai was my friend because he wanted to figure me out, and then water me down to clump me in with all the other mediocre humans Dazai disliked. Maybe I was scared that I was mediocre, and would lose his companionship. Our allyship had come from Dazai’s desire to find out Mori’s intentions, and now that he will, would I be discarded like all others he uses for his gain? I didn't have anything to worry about however, apparently I was an intriguing human, enough for Dazai to pursue my knowledge and friendship even after his initial search of me was completed. I was more than the Legion, than a soldier. 

“He knew who I was from the start. I suppose he foresaw this outcome, and also wanted information on the Legion and American affairs… But he offered me to work here truthfully, not under a guise, and be an official member.” 

“And? What did you say?” He huffs smoothly. 

“Well If I had declined I dont think I’d be standing in this building relaxed right now, but I accepted for my own reasons.”

Dazai smiles, his one visible eye twinkling despite the lack of light in the closet as he leans his head back slightly, aware of how close he’d gotten, “Well (Y/N) you played both sides but you played them well, this is a good outcome.” 

I smiled back, genuinely, relieved that the Dazai I knew did not change, for if he was the Dazai others knew, I’d be saddened. I don't want to lose him as a friend, and I can't tell if the feeling is mutual. 

“Was this an outcome you thought of? Were your suspicions of Mori correct?” I questioned, wishing to know his ever intricate thoughts.

“I had a feeling he wanted to know the state of American affairs by bringing you here, keeping you close to get a sense of what is going on, but I didn’t think you’d switch loyalties. Most organization members I’ve met are highly loyal to their causes and groups, much like myself.” 

“If I’d joined my now former organization on my own accord due to their causes then I probably would have dedicated myself to them fully, and even though I was, seeds of doubt always plagued me. I was a tool and a pawn to them, nothing more. But I chose to join the mafia officially, you needn’t doubt my loyalties.” 

Dazai didn't speak, just gazed at me. His eyes roamed mine, down to my face where he held his line of sight. He wanted to say more, to add on, and I actually wanted to listen to his words, I stayed silent. 

Dazai leaned closer again, prompting me to put pressure on the wall behind me as I looked back into his conflicted eyes, urging him to continue. 

“(Y/N), you are a pawn here to Mori-san as well, we all are. He may polish us and appreciate us more, meeting with us directly and pretending to care about our wellbeing and days, but it is to keep the pieces on his grand chess piece magnificent and capable; he is the only one moving them…” 

His voice was hushed and urgent, as if a great sin was being committed with his warning. It was said in a secretive manner, his breath fanning on my face as his was much closer. 

“I know Dazai-kun.” I softly said, almost a whisper, “It’d be a miracle If I could ever be anything other than a tool, but that is what I was raised for. As you said, I’d rather be a polished bishop or rook, than a pawn sent up for sacrifice.” 

“I am inclined to agree with you.” He voiced softly in return, gazing down at me from his taller form. 

Breaking our tension, I spoke up with a grin, “You said you had something exciting to tell me.” 

Dazai leans back once more, his eyes lit up and with an arrogant smirk “I have figured out your previous job and organization. I told you I’d do it myself.” 

“Oh really,” I dragged, smiling wider. I wanted to know how much Dazai has uncovered, how accurate it is, “I’d be delighted to hear your thoughts.” 

Dazai started to chuckle and shake his head, “mhn, mhn, no no,” He pretends to chastise, “You don’t get the information easily after all the deception you put me through.”

I was taken aback, chuckling in return as my mouth opens and closes like a gulping fish trying to process what Dazai is insinuating. 

“You are making me work to find out what you have found about my own occupation, which mind you, I already know, because I know what it is I do and do not need to pull it out of you. That is what you are initially saying.” I remarck amusingly. 

“I am aware.” Dazai replies cooly with a humored grin on his face. 

“So you are not going to tell me what it is you think I do?” 

“No, not what I think you do, what I know you do. And yes, you will have to figure it out.” He tilts his head as he says. 

I rolled my eyes back smiling at the audacity of him. Now that his suspicions of me are clear the arrogant, overconfident, and egotistical aspects of Dazai are starting to surface. “You are unbelievable at times Dazai.” 

“You are starting to sound like Chuuya.” The brunette retorts. 

“On that note, we should probably get back to Chuuya-kun’s office.” 

“Sure,” Dazai huffs, opening the door for me to walk out as he follows behind. 

The crisp air circulating through the purple and red hued halls of the Port Mafia headquarters no longer hold a sensation of unfamiliarity and unease. I no longer feel premonitions and the creeping impression of an outsider, and while my own isolation has not left me, I do not feel like I am in a den of snakes. Either the snakes are no longer hostile to me, or I have become one of them. 

~~~

As we sat around the table in Chuuya’s office, there was a pamphlet that was not there before, and Chuuya had an unusual air of seriousness around him. 

“Whats in the pamphlet?” Dazai asks as he eyes it, shifting in his chair to get comfortable. 

“Akutagawa dropped this off while you both were gone, we have a new mission, and this one takes planning.” Chuuya announced, expressing the last word begrudgingly, as he loved quick missions where violence was needed, since Chuuya overpowered his opponents pretty quickly. 

“You’d be much more helpful if you elaborated Chuuya.” Dazai teased, cocking his head to the side to irritate the red head. 

Chuuya narrowed his eyes back with a frown and sneered, “I was about to do that before you opened your mouth, which was less helpful, you prick.” 

At this point there were no insults left for the two partners to throw at each other, all words having been used numerous times over and over again in different variations. And while they seem to have been getting along better lately, this aspect of their dynamic is likely never to change. But perhaps that is what makes them a more powerful duo, and perhaps Mori is aware of that fact. 

“Well now you're being worse than helpful by blabbing childish slanders instead of our mission.” Dazai exclaims in an animated pouty voice, dead set on ticking his partner off even more. 

“Why you! I will skin that smile off your disturbing face you-”

“Oh my god you two, quit it.” I announced with finality in my voice, effectively calming down the two mafiosos. 

Chuuya snatches the pamphlet off the table with a grimace, mumbling profanities at Dazai who just grins wider at the sight of his partner angry. 

Taking a breath, he begins. “The mission is to retrieve a firsthand original 19th century romanticism composer piece of Chopan at an art auction.” Chuuya explains while trying to calm down his temper. 

“Why don't we just steal it like the jewelry last week?” I spoke up to ask. 

“The owner is someone who Mori-san wants to keep as a friend, he’s a rich business man, and buys a lot of our drugs for his elaborate parties. If we steal it outright he will be suspicious, and if he guesses it's the Port Mafia, who are the only capable people to successfully retrieve it, we lose a big buyer in our cocaine industry.”

“So, he wants us to go to the Art Auction in an alias I presume?” Dazai chimed in to ask. 

“Yes, Mori-san is having one of our upraisors along with an amazing con artist make a fake piece to pass it as the real one when we switch them. The auction is art so the piece won't go for sale, just for display as it is from the era. We need to get an invite to his personal sweet for the afterparty and steal it when it's brought up, we can't get it from it’s display case in the gala.”  

No one speaks for some moments, as we all work to form ideas in our heads. 

“What are the aliases?” I asked after some time in silence. 

“(Y/N) and I will pose as the married couple Hatori and Louisa Ashikaga. Hatori owns some banks in Tokyo so he received an invitation, and he is not in the public eye; he went on holiday a few years ago in Italy where he met his American wife Louisa. They are currently on vacation in Barcelona, and have no clue they are missing this banquet. Dazai, you will be Kenzo Kumagai, Hatori’s right hand man, who is currently on some business in Moscow and evidently not here to collect Hatori’s mail.” 

“There is an awful problem in this plan!” Dazai suddenly exclaims with a wave of his hand. 

A vein bulges on Chuuya’s forehead as he was just told off by his infuriating partner to a full proof plan, and he hisses back, “What.” 

“I don’t see how it's possibly fair that you get to pose as (Y/N)-chan’s husband while I have to play the side friend; that is certainly no fun.” 

Chuuya visibly smacks himself with a grunt as he turns viciously to Dazai, “ You are a manipulative and smooth talker who can boast about our banks and make up things on the spot much better than I can, but you also get on peoples nerves you bastard , I'm not entrusting you to charming the target, George Orwell to get our asses into his party.”

“Fine but my role is boring,” Dazai pouts with a grin, “I have a better narrative,” he starts to animatedly move his hands as he tells his tale, “Kenzo may be just the friend, but him and Louisa have been having an affair since she met him behind Hatori’s back.”

It is me this time, who face palms at the ridiculous notions that Dazai is spewing, while Chuuya starts shouting phrases he would never say to his mother at the brunette. I pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh at his antics which may be humorous, but very childish. 

“Dazai-kun, as much as an interesting tale that may be, there is no point to it. On our next mission, you can certainly be my husband, okay?” I relent. 

“Whatever you say (Y/N)-chan.” Dazai sings back, his eyes all the mischievous. 

The rest of the day proceeded with exchanging some more details of our mission and planning. Chuuya had finally got Dazai to drop the affair nonsense and learn some more about his alias. We have to charm this George Orwell into inviting the three of us into his house party, and from there find the piano piece and switch it, all while unnoticed. The mission seems like an enjoyable one, where the adrenaline rush will be welcomed wholeheartedly. My only qualm was that my part had to be done in a gown and heels due to it being an upper class society gala and auction. 

Finishing up one some documents, I stacked them before pressing a stapler into the top corner, a small grin at my lips because of my small task being completed. I wonder if people with simple lives feel so fulfilled with minor tasks like these, which stirs a sense of envy in my heart.

“(Y/N)?” I hear a voice to my left say, as I turn my head to be met with brown eyes. 

“Yes?” 

“Would you care to join me at Lupin tonight? The bar I showed you.” Dazai asks, his elbow on the table with his cheek leaning against it. 

I took a second to contemplate, but seeing as I had nothing else to do tonight, I saw no reason to refuse, “I’d love to.” 

We walked together through the sunset towards the hidden bar in the hidden alleyway, away from prying eyes and open for the owls of the night. We conversed about minor and relaxed things, not insignificant enough to be marked as small talk, however not meaningful enough to erupt into an intellectual conversion. As we arrived, I could see the bar sign that illuminated the sidewalk under it, the man with a monocle visual looking down at me with a hidden twinkle in his eye, like he knows a secret that I am yet to discover. Lupin houses many people with secrets who come to drink their sorrows away, and he probably hears them all from his place perched up on the wall. I shook my head at my odd personification, as Dazai moved to open the door, stepping through after me. 

The man I met previously, Oda Sakunoske, entered my line of sight as I saw him hunched over the bar counter, his burgundy locks twirling from the beige blazer. One stool over however, the man who was mentioned to be absent last time I was here, Ango Sakaguchi was sitting. His dark brown hair matches his brown coat as he twirls a glass with a thick red substance in his hand. 

“Tomato Juice - Only Ango drinks that crap”

The vague memory of Dazai’s words now make sense in my head, as we walk towards the two men in the vintage bar. 

Ango catches on to our presence with the shuffling sound of our footsteps and turns in his seat,“Dazai-san, Good Evening.” Ever the awkward and formal Ango says, and adds when his gaze lands to me, “And to you too as well, (Y/N)-san.” 

“Yes, good evening.” I replied with a smile as Dazai clasps his hands right beside me. 

“Ah, Ango-san.” Dazai acknowledges with a sing-song voice before he turns to Oda, who turns and gazes upon us, “And you too, Odasaku.” 

“Dazai.” The man remarks in his husky velvet voice with a bow of his head, “and with (Y/N), Hello you two.” 

“It’s nice to see you, Oda-san.” I say with a slightly larger grin that to Ango, I did enjoy spending time with Oda. His presence is calming and not overbearing, however he gives you familiarity and kindness, something truly rare in this world. 

Dazai takes his seat in the middle as I move to sit on the other side of Oda.

~~~ To be continued.

Chapter Text

The bar was empty save for the four of us, and the elderly bartender wiping a class with a rag behind the counter. He had a peaceful smile on his face; one that could be misinterpreted as devious if it weren't for the content aura he expels. 

The tick of the grandfather clock was the only sound that vibrated through the room, and occasionally when the bartender put a glass in the cabinet, a ting could be heard as well. 

“How's work been Dazai-san?” The stiff but friendly voice of Ango abruptly asks. 

Dazai swirls his glass, the chestnut liquid sloshing inside of it while he stares down into the spiral motion of his drink. “Work is as usual Ango. That question is so daft my friend; you know what my job consists of.” He says with a chuckle.

The bar was quiet once again; allowing everyone to breathe. Life is suffocating and exhilarating at the same time. It exhausts and takes, pushes and takes, abandons and cuts off. But it also gives, it gives joy, love, happiness, and experiences. Life is unfair. It takes from us; abandons us and leaves us astray. Yet there are some people, people above us, where life gives. It gives them wealth, relaxation, and happiness. 

“Oda-san?” I suddenly asked, looking at the man next to me. 

“Yes (Y/N)?” He says kindly, turning to me as well. 

“Your ability is so useful, and yet in our ranks, you rank so low. Why is that?” 

It was a question I’ve been meaning to ask him since we met and he explained the nature of his ability. Flawless, is what it's called, which allows him to predict 5-6 seconds of the future in a glimpse. 

Oda smiled sheepishly and downed the rest of his drink, leaning back to begin his explanation.“I refuse to kill.” He shrugs. 

My eyes widened and my expression puzzled, but his answer would not suffice. I didn't reply, and waited for him to continue. 

“I want to be a novelist. I want to throw away my gun. All I want in my hands are a pen and a paper…  A certain man once told me that writing novels is writing people. You cannot write about someone's life after you rob them of it. That's why I will never kill again”

It took me a second to fully comprehend Oda’s words. And at once, my admiration for him increased. 

“Who was the man?” I asked, “Was he a friend?”

Oda paused for a moment, a look reminiscent gleaming in his brown eyes, “I was at a cafe.” He starts, “There were two volumes of a book I was reading. The man saw them, and told me the third book is atrocious. He encouraged me not to read it, and write my own conclusion to the novels. To write novels is to write about humans , he said to me… Who am I to bring lives when I take them away?” 

Oda was looking at me, but he wasn't here. He was far away, farther than I could imagine. 

“To write is to be a god.” I softly pointed out, a small smile on my lips.

As my response registered into him, Oda came back instantly, and peered at me, not through me. Looking at me eagerly he replies, “How so?” 

“To write, you create life. You create a world, people, lives, experiences, and their fate rests in your hands. You can give and you can take away; that is essentially what God does.” I contended. 

“It is,” He agrees, “It is what Gods do. I am no God, no God at all. I don't deserve God’s salvation nor his title. But I want to hold a pen, I want to carry out the fates, and write people.” 

“And you will.” I said with a nod, “Many people undeserving of the title try to play God, but they are man. We are not Gods, surely no one would agree to give humans the rights of God, the world would end instantly. But you, Oda-san, I assure you your dream will come true one day.” 

Oda grins genuinely, a twinkle in his eyes as another drink is placed in front of him. 

“I think writing your own endings to books is a marvelous idea.” I went on to express, “You can preserve your interpretation of it. It would be all the more personal, don't you think?” 

Before Oda could answer however, Dazai chimed in from the seat over. “Nothing will ruin the book for you.” He agrees with a nod, “It is personal. If you want to be comforted and content, you’ll write a happy ending. If sadness excites you, your ending will be full of despair, and so on.”

“The original writer really will be a God in that case.” I claimed, “Your world becomes so real, your characters become so real that their actions are no longer in your control…  They could end up in many different ways because they are their own. Is that not what happened to God? Doesn’t humanity now resist him; he created us, we are his characters; and yet we sin. We disobey and sin; deviate from his plans. If one’s characters can deviate from their plan in a number of different ways, then they have become their own self; and no longer the writer’s.”

Dazai started to grin widely, resting his cheek in his palms. 

“That is a beautiful notion (Y/N)-san.” Ango decides to praise, sitting the farthest from me. 

“I will never kill again; for the chance of your words becoming my reality.” Oda professed, a subtle smile sitting at his lips. 

“You are also incredibly altruistic Odasaku.” Dazai adds, which gave Oda high amusement. 

“You are much too pragmatic.” Oda retorts. 

“Both of those to an over extent will lead to downfall.” I uttered, “Altruistic deeds will get one no where in their goals, but bring solace and kindness to their hearts. Pragmatism will help one advance, but they will lose morality. Equally, one is safe from their cold heart, and over emotional mind.” 

“Is that from theory or experience?” Oda questions. 

“Theory,” I said with a laugh and shake of my head, “My principles were lost to pragmatism long ago.” 

“Maybe if you stopped reading Machiavelli, you’d have a chance to show some altruism.” Dazai jokes, in his smooth sarcastic voice. 

“Oh, says you.” I retorted at the man. 

The banter and conversation quiets down once again; each mafioso taking in what they’ve heard and conversed about. 

After some time, it was Ango who resumed the conversation, “I think both altruism and pragmatism are for the strong willed, not weak.” His voice was firm, and it seems his conclusion came from careful consideration. “It is difficult to be kind and help others in situations such as ours, and so you must be strong willed to be able to do something without anything in return. But it is also difficult to let go of your values and principles to survive, and it may not always be your choice, but you must adapt. Pragmatism comes from physical self preservation, and altruism is mental and emotional preservation.” 

“You say this like it comes from experience.” Dazai asks gently. 

“It's… it's not.” Ango huffs, adjusting his round glasses that rest on his nose, “this is all in theory we speak.” 

“In theory,” Dazai says with a nod, his tone teasing and meaning all the opposite. 

“It is.” Ango snaps, not truly angry however not respondent to Dazai’s antics. 

“It’s getting late.” Oda chimes, looking down at the watch on his wrist. 

A small yawn escaped my mouth as he said that; my eyelids feeling heavy. I slid off my stool as the others did the same, picking up their coats and readjusting their shirts. I shuffled through my pockets and left some money on the counter, turning to leave the bar and onto the pavement. 

As I stepped outside, goosebumps erupted all over my skin from the cold weather. It was freezing, and I could feel the chill slither from my legs up to my neck, behind my ear. I stiffened up; hugging my arms tightly around myself.

I heard the bell behind me ring, as the door opened and closed with shoes clacking onto the concrete. I couldn't see who exactly it was, as my back was turned. The footsteps continued until the man reached my side, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. Soft expression though; it was serene. 

“We should go.” He says, gently taking hold of my wrist with his bandaged hand and turning down the direction we had walked from. 

I was pushed, trailing next to him as he led the way. The moon was a shining crescent tonight, signaling the beginning of a new month. Vapor left my mouth when I breathed out, my heavy jacket doing little to protect me from this ravenous cold. 

“The sky is magnificent tonight.” I muttered tilting my head all the way, gazing at the millions of glittering stars in the night above, blanketing the earth with its light. 

If it wasn't for Dazai’s hand leading me the way, I would have surely fallen or bumped into something, because I could not lower my head from this rare sight in a city. 

“Stars are adored for simply being beautiful.” Dazai suggests, strolling at a slow pace at my side as he looks up subtly. 

“It’s hard to find beautiful things in the world anymore. At least we still have stars.” I say with a shrug as Dazai slips his fingers through mine. 

“The world is simply ugly in my eyes.” Words start falling out of Dazai’s mouth and I don't think he fully understood what he was uttering, “It has never been beautiful. Shiny things aren't beautiful; there is - no point - to beauty… People worship beautiful things as if it will give them answers to life, as if being beautiful will give them a purpose.” 

“Is that what you are looking for?” I suddenly inquired, turning to gaze at his face. The moonlight made his skin look like soft porcelain, his eyes shine like glass. “Are you looking for fulfillment, a purpose?” My voice was hushed and quiet, fearful that if he felt vulnerable he would place his masks back on and change the conversation. 

Dazai gazed down at me as we both stopped walking. His eyes held so many words, but his mouth was shut. He was inspecting, deciding if he should be honest, and let some of his masks slip. His expression was neutral. “The real color of humanity is shown when on the brink of death. The real desires and emotions that man tries so hard to hide. Their deadly sins. Did you know that if you looked into someone’s eyes as they are about to die, you can tell if they think they are going to hell, or if they think they found salvation. If I cannot find a purpose so close to death, then there is none.” 

I looked at him, hesitantly. He was being transparent, being himself. These thoughts, these are Dazai. His gruesome experiences, his excruciating search for acceptance and for purpose. To try to hold onto life, to not give up. He wants to find something that encourages him to grasp onto the string of life and really live . He needs a purpose to find value in moving forward and waking up each morning. 

“You don't need a purpose to live; there is nothing that claims you have to be deserving of your life.” I softly and quietly advised. I wasn't sure how to navigate my answer, I didn’t want to appear like I understood his grievances. I did not. But I want my words to hold with him, to have meaning. 

Time stopped around us, on the cold winter night. The stars shined down at us, giving us light and strength; and the moon observed, smiling. 

A car drove by, it’s lights illuminating my face and passing on to Dazai for a few moments before it drove further down until I could not hear it. Owls sang around us as the leaves of trees were moved with wind. 

“You can make a purpose.” I hesitated before I added, “Anything you want. You can’t chase after it; you have to craft your own. Answers are never given to us, we always have to derive them.”

Dazai took a step forward, and then two. He raised his palm and grasped my cheek, pulling it closer to him. My eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the soft contact as his other hand laid gently at my waist. 

I laid my palms on his shoulders to steady myself as Dazai got closer, his breath fanning over mine as our noses were centimeters apart from touching. But he didnt move closer, he kept eye contact with me. I  peered at him with uncertainty. His hand stayed firmly at my cheeks, as his gaze briefly lowered onto my lips and back up to my eyes. 

My brain shut down, I could not think. Not when his soft hand caressed my cheek, and his other held me close to him; in a way I have never been held. His warmth completely over took the cold air around us as I started to heat up. 

I looked down at his lips and back up with furrowed brows, I was confused. I didn’t know what he intended to do; but I knew I wouldn't refuse any of it. 

Dazai slowly inched closer, his eyebrows furrowing with a troubled longing on his face. dHe connected his forehead to mine and fluttered his eyes shut releasing a breath as he did it. My eyes closed as well as his arm around my waste got tighter, my chest laying on his and my hands involuntarily clutching his jacket. 

Neither of us moved, we clutched onto each other, our foreheads atop one another, our eyes closed, our breaths fanning over the others lips, and our noses slightly touching. We stayed like this for a few moments as his thumb softly stroked my cheek. 

The air was still cold, but in his arms I felt only warmth. I didn't understand what we were doing, what we felt about each other. Why I always end up near him, in his arms. We are so similar yet so different. In the same ocean, however as I try to swim upwards Dazai stays on the bottom. If I couldn’t breathe underwater and attempted to swim to shore, Dazai would sink and accept his fate. Why can’t he swim upwards as well? Why can't he hold hope? We had the same thoughts, same views, however on different spectrums. Dazai was grayer, darker, lost. Why is he always near me? Why does he take me in his arms like so? 

Dazai eventually, reluctantly lifted his head but held me tighter, murmuring into my hair, “I set up another hotel room for you close. The owner is loyal to Mori, you’ll be safe there… It’s late and we have a mission to prepare for tomorrow.”

I nodded into his chest, reluctant to let go as my hands tightened around his coat. He was warm, so very warm. I didn’t understand why I felt so - comforted, so safe in his hold. No, I didn’t understand it at all. 

Slowly I let go of his coat as his arms loosened from my form even slower. Once we were apart, he grasped my hand and continued our walk. Neither of us spoke the whole way, we walked in peaceful silence. There were no words needed to be said, no words able to explain what either of us were feeling. 

We arrived at a hotel some blocks down from the mafia headquarters. It was as fancy as the last one, with flashing lights and intoxicated matrons going in and out. 

Warm air was radiating with bright lights from the entrance, sounds of loud chatter and laughter in the background coming from the lobby. The street was quiet, dark, and cold. I turned to Dazai at the front doors, a small smile at my face, “Thank you, and goodnight.” 

Dazai had an unusual expression, he seemed confused and content at the same time; I couldn’t read him, “Goodnight (Y/N)” He gently said. 

I gave a nod and turned around, my cheeks heating up. My body felt all tingly and jittery, like a child being given chocolate. I took a few steps, standing under the doorway when I decided to turn around slightly. Dazai was still standing there, hands in his grey pockets, bandage around his eye; in all his glory. 

As his eyes flickered to mine I ducked my head quickly, turning back around towards the entrance and marched in. It took all my strength not to stop, to turn around, to go back to him, Dazai . 

Get a grip, don't be a child, I scolded myself at the soft smile on my lips, the blush in my cheeks. As I checked in and walked into the elevator, all I could think about was the feeling of being held. 

I sighed with a shake of my head, trying to build up exasperation. I wasn't really irritated though, no irritation could not describe the feeling. It felt like walking on clouds in warmth, laying in sunlight, the morning dew after rain. 

I finally got into my room, took off my coat and got ready for bed. But of course, my thoughts did not turn off. Sleep would not come easy tonight.

Chapter Text

The next day passed in a similar manner of planning for the upcoming Art Auction theft. Dazai, Chuuya, and I were given blueprints of the gallery and George Orwell’s private residence, where he hosts boisterous parties defined by their lustful, loud, and wealthy attendees. 

It appears the man, Orwell, frequently squanders his large inherited fortunes with lavish parties, benefiting the Port Mafia’s drug exports as he spends even more of his family’s fortune on a little white powder for all his colleagues . 

The Orwell family have been business investors going back a few generations. Some members have gone into politics as well, American and Japanese politics. The heir, George Orwell, however, resides in Tokyo. The Orwell’s have had a habit of gaining power and followers in their political campaigns by swaying towards liberal and socailist laws, nevertheless, they are extremely wealthy themselves, and do not believe what they are campaigning for. It is only to appease the masses and gain more support than their conservative opposers. It had reminded me greatly of Otto Von Bismarck in Germany. 

George himself, though, is known to be quite immature and rowdy, constantly waving around his wealth to show off to others. He has no ambitions in the family business or politics, and simply spends all his money on elaborate galas, auctions, and parties. His younger cousins who had the misfortune of being born too late - which excludes them from being able to become the heir and head - are the real members of the family who invest and harvest even more wealth. 

George’s parties are known to be highly exclusive, all guests of high society. Hatori Ashigaka is the exception to the characteristics known of attendees, as a man who detests publicity and lives more modestly. But his banks are a big part of Tokyo’s business world, and so he made the list of guests this year. 

We read more background on our aliases, on George, and what to say to win the man’s favour. Chuuya had complained immensely, wanting to knock out the bodyguards and steal the piece quickly. As much as I wished that were possible, there can be no indication of theft at George’s residence. The Orwell name is one of the many connections that the Port Mafia uses, and while it is not detrimental if the mafia loses it, their members in politics bend to Mori’s will whenever necessary, adding to his control on the politics of Japan, while providing insight on the Americans. 

“Dazai?” I asked the next morning in a coffee shop.

Oda had introduced Dazai to this coffee shop, and he in turn to me. It is a lovely place. The smell of coffee beans and pastry fill the store, which has rows of bookshelves that customers can borrow from, to read while they sit. Writers frequent the store; one can tell only by looking at a customer’s hands. When their fingers are full of ink, it is obvious of the individual's profession. Since the shop is for reading and writing, the loud obnoxious noises that come with other coffee shops are not heard here, people speak politely and quietly. The only constant noise being a man or woman’s rapid movement of their pen. 

“What is on your mind (Y/N)?” He voiced, sitting across from me.

I took a sip of my coffee before continuing, “Why do you think Mori is so interested in American affairs?” I questioned, “We have concluded that I was brought in firstly to give him more insight before the, erm, turn of events, and the Orwell’s have members in the American senate which Mori extorts for information.”

Dazai contemplated quietly, munching on a blueberry muffin before continuing, “I was wondering this as well. Mori is usually rather vocal about future plans with me, but he has not spoken a word about this… interest. The only indication he cares at all is, as you’ve said, the tabs he keeps on American state of affairs…” Dazai paused for some moments, before adding, “It may be the same reason for your previous organization’s sudden interest in the Port Mafia, thus sending you to us.” 

“Yes well their plan worked out marvelously for everyone but themselves,” I claimed bitterly. 

“Indeed,” He notes. 

“Will you finally tell me what organization you deduced that I worked for?” I inquired 

“Of course not.” He chides in return, flashing a grin. 

I sighed with a shake of my head, chewing on my croissant. 

“Have you run into any problems after cutting ties with them?” Dazai adds tentatively. 

“Two assassins when I was out in the city.” I uttered, “They haven't a clue as to where I am staying, thank you again for that by the way , and so it has been at random times outside. The assassins were completely incapable of course, and it was no trouble getting rid of them, but it is a hassle.” 

“Yes, how exasperating.” He jokes in a friendly mock. 

“You are distracting me,” I went on, “Back to what is important, I am curious as to why my previous organization had an interest in the Port Mafia, and then, in the meanwhile Mori-san has a new interest in American affairs. You said that you started to notice this when I arrived some weeks ago?” 

“Yes,” Dazai replied, “When you came here, and I realized you were from the U.S, I developed some suspicions. Bringing an outsider into our affairs was odd, and you were… no, not odd, but alarmingly competent at what you do.”

“You were suspicious of me from the beginning?” I questioned with a little smile. 

Dazai’s grin widened before answering, an amused glint in his brown eyes, “I asked you a question when we were on the elevator, and your answer was intriguing for the profession you posed as.” 

I stopped for a moment to recall the day, the elevator in which Dazai questioned me. 

“Do you remember what I’d asked you?” He murmured in that irritatedly velvety voice as he leaned back in his seat, his coat hanging behind him on the chair. 

“You-” I pondered, “You asked me whether my ability could kill.” 

“I did, and you had confirmed that it can, and in a few ways aswell. Now why would an innocent private investigator such as yourself have enough experience with killing to know how to use their ability to kill in different ways?” He quips. 

My retort died on my lips as his words entered my ears, an alarmed look on my face, “Oh I, I  must have slipped up,” I speculated distressidly, “Is that why you asked me to dinner that night? To get me to slip up and reveal even more?” 

Dazai didn't reply, but the triumphed grin on his face gave away the answer as he focused on the muffin in his hands. 

“That was very, um,” I murmured, “smart. Manipulative, but smart.”

“It was, but it was only a fluke. You hadn’t given much away about your past at the dinner, only about yourself and views.” 

“You did as well,” I recalled. 

Dazai smiled, adjusting himself on his seat, “Yes yes it was an interesting night to say the least, but back to our topic. I dare to suggest, there is something going on between the Port Mafia, and your said, organization-”

“-It would be much easier if you just said it’s name and reveal what you know-”

“-Which will be uncovered in due time anyway. If the two organizations are, for whatever reason, becoming hostile to each other, then we will be prone to fight them.” 

I took a second to recall the end of my conversation with Mori when he had officially brought me into the mafia. 

“That is likely to happen, Mori-san has even expressed that he expects that a conflict will break out directly, but not so soon since I switched loyalties.”

“Your abandonment of your organization has probably put them at a great disadvantage.” Dazai voices aloud, however lost in thought.

“They put much effort into training and molding me into an acceptable, if not even more, agent. It has all gone to waste now, and even worked against them.” I agreed. 

Dazai and I have both seemed to put our more tender moments behind us. He has not said anything nor have I. Cowards, the lot of us. Both running away from conflicting feelings and confusing emotions.

“I have some theories on why they would need blood from people who possess abilities.” Dazai shares. 

“Yes, I aswell.”

“They are experimenting.” He concludes. 

I nodded, “I do not know if this would make sense, but studying the blood, even if discoveries are to be made, it seems… wrong. And of course because innocent bystanders were murdered brutally, but that aside, let's say for example it was donated blood given willingly.. It still feels wrong to me. It is against nature.”

Dazai’s cheek was supported by his palm as he leaned against the small wooden table separating us. His eye unbandaged, was ever attentive. He was so quite beautiful, and I wish the thought would stop invading my mind. Recently, it seems my eyes have acquired the habit of pointing out the man’s beauty, and appreciating it. 

Maybe it made me self conscious of my own appearance, but not enough to care. Habits are hard to break, and some should not be, like the notion of love in my life. I was not born for love, I never was, and I never will. I doubt I know how to love, and that I can even be loved. 

I have taken too many lives as well, too many loved ones that perhaps I do not ever deserve to love or be loved. I do believe in love, yes I read far too many books as a young child, however it is not in my fate. If anything, any love I would ever experience would be a Shakespearean tragedy. 

And so it was irritating that my thoughts would steer back to the man’s beauty, the way he held me, and continues to be near me. The way he grins, and the way that almost all of his grins are empty. The way I have been one of the very few to see a smile from Osamu Dazai, that was in fact, not empty, and had reached his eyes. I hated to think about his voice, which was much too smooth for his own good, much too lavish. The way I longed to unwrap his bandage that covers one of his eyes, I long to see that eye. The innocent touches he gives, and the not so innocent ones. 

I desired to know why he holds me, or continues to take my cheeks into his palms. Why he reaches for my hands as we walk, and why he takes me to the establishments he frequents.

I always called myself foolish, much too hopeful and optimistic for the position I am in. But I feel the most unwise when my cheeks heat up miraculously when I am near the damned man. 

Dazai tilted his head in agreement to my words, his black collared shirt fitted much too nice on his lean body, “I do appreciate science, the studies of anatomy and medicine” He says, “But I am in agreement that extracting blood to examine it from an ability user seems to go against the laws of humanity and nature. And I highly doubt they are studying it for the good of the people, but to extort it for power and gain. It is unnatural.” 

“Unnatural it is,” I agreed, “Why some people are born with a gift, a supernatural power, it makes absolutely no sense. None at all, which makes it natural. Things we could never dare to understand, are all natural things. Daring to understand a gift, an ability. Daring to dissect it and put it in a chart, in a graph and publish a thesis. It is going against nature, the nature of the gifts bestowed on very few on this earth.” 

~~~

The next few days were calm ones, they all passed in similar fashions, and it seemed I was finally getting used to life in Yokohama. A freer, more vibrant life it was indeed. 

It was a quiet afternoon, and Chuuya was walking with me, leading me further into the headquarters of the mafia.

“You’ve met Akutagawa, right?” Chuuya asked as we walked down the illuminated corridors, his hands resting idly in the pockets of his black coat. 

“I have.” I noted. 

“Akutagawa is part of our special ops group, the Black Lizard. I am taking you to meet them now.” He informs kindly, a soft expression on his face, “At the upcoming art auction, a few of the Port Mafia’s targets will be gathered, and the Black Lizard will sneak in to take care of it. We won't be communicating or even acknowledging them there, but it's about time you meet anyway.”

I furrowed my brows, “But George Orwell isn't supposed to know the Port Mafia was there.” I commented with a hint of speculation. 

“He is not supposed to know that we stole from him, it won’t matter if some guests are quietly taken care of. The Orwells would even appreciate it, they will have less opponents in politics and business. Besides, Mori-san has no obligation to tell him, so if he hears some guests have died, of course he will suspect us but there is no concrete proof. And suspicion isn't enough to defy the mafia with, but as I've said, he would likely appreciate it.”

Chuuya’s husky voice echoed down the long hallways as we walked up a small flight of stairs. 

“I see. But nevertheless wouldn’t it be bad publicity if a few important members of high society all pass away on the same night?” I questioned. 

“Of course it is.” Chuuya shrugs. 

“What? Then-” 

Chuuya stops with a humored smile, his hands now on my shoulders, “They are slipping poison into the target's drinks. Each poison was brewed to take effect at different times scattered through numerous weeks. The deaths will look natural, and Boss has autonomy over the police force.” He explains. 

“Oh, well, that makes sense.” I ceded. 

He gave another smile before resuming our walk until we arrived at a set of doors. Chuuya knocked and in a few seconds the doors were opened.

Upon arrival, I saw a group of people lounging around in what seemed to be a small base. The room was large with a wide glass window that let in plenty of natural light. The walls were covered in a mellow beige wallpaper, but what stood out amongst the couches and tables, was a wall to my left, stalked to the brim with guns. 

Different guns, varying in size and style, were displayed row after row to the ceiling, which was also rather high. It was an interesting sight, very fitting for the notorious Black Lizard. I had heard a few things about them in passing, how they took on the most unsavory of jobs. Assassinations and interrogations all fell under them. 

It was a small group, six people were in the room, some standing and other’s sprawled on the couches. I recognized Akutagawa, the boy I had met before, Dazai’s pupil. Though he wasn't very fond of me, we are much more alike than we will ever know. I saw myself in the boy, a younger version of myself.

Akutagawa was standing in the corner, his face cold and stoic, talking to a woman. The woman was in a black suit, her blonde hair in a bun held in place with a large clip. 

I observed the others, who were inspecting me as well. A man, who was evidently older than the others in the room, had a cigar in his mouth as he leaned back onto a navy blue cushion, peering back at me with narrowed eyes. His hair was gray, and not only sat on his head but on his chin as well. He had slight wrinkles, but it was not hard to tell he had a pretty face. His suit was much more lavish than anything I’d seen on Dazai or Chuuya, and a monocle rested on his right eye.

Next to him, a younger woman sat. She had wild black hair in a ponytail with a white mask covering her face below her nose. Her attire adorned a black collar and black clothing. She peered back at me curiously. 

A man with ginger hair sat across from them. His hair differed from Chuuya’s though they were both ginger, this man’s had a hue of burgundy. A band-ade wrapped around the bridge of his nose. He held an air of cool nonchalance. His legs were propped up onto the table, and his attire was casual, a forest green bomber jacket on his shoulders. The man was younger, probably around my age, and he reminded me of a rebellious teenager. He gazed back at me attempting to appear indifferent, but I could see the interest in his eyes. After associating with Dazai, any attempts at facades in others have become easy to discover. 

Next to him was the final man with a hideous haircut. A bowl cut of brown hair sat atop his head, an orange rimmed visor covering his eyes. A green shawl wrapped around his neck, as he looked at me with an unsettling grin. I couldn’t see his eyes, but the turn of his lips looked snake-like. 

Chuuya stood by me, slightly in front, waiting for full attention. 

“Hirostu,” Chuuya regarded with a nod. 

The elderly man, who I now know is Hirostu, nodded back.

“I’d like to introduce you all to the newest member of the Port Mafia, boss hired her himself.” He announced, stepping aside as everyone’s eyes snapped to my form, “Her name is (L/N)(Y/N), and is my partner, as well as Dazai’s. I thought introductions were necessary seeing as though she is a fellow member now.” 

I stayed quiet as I didnt know what to say. Chuuya had already announced my name and business here. 

Abruptly, the man with the horrid bowl cut stood up and strolled towards me, his predatory smile widening. He stood in front of me and grasped my hand, bringing it up to his lips and planting a kiss.

I watched with wide confused eyes as he lowered my palm again, and I snatched it out of his grasp, wiping my palm and knuckles on my coat. 

“It is such a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N).” He cooed and I did not miss the subtle use of my first name, a practice in Japan that meant two people were, in the least, friends. 

“Motojiro Kajii,” He added, “But please just call me Kajii - You seem so,” He leaned in, his face improperly close to mine, “so fascinating . Why have we never met before?” 

To say I was speechless was a complete understatement, but I know it was not in the manner to which a man would want his romantic pursuit to feel. 

Stammering, I tried to reply, “Erm, I-”

“Stop making her uncomfortable, Kajii, and please leave this sort of behavior at a brothel for god’s sake.” A strong deep voice said with an exasperated sigh.

 I peered over Kajii’s shoulder to see the elderly man, Hirotsu, stepping towards us. His hand latched on to Kajii’s arm, and pushed him out of the way, stepping before me himself. 

The man was rather tall, and I had to crain my head slightly backwards to look into his face. 

“Hirostu.” He says, his voice firm but not unkind, “A pleasure.”

My eyes snapped down to see his outstretched arm, and I tentatively took it, giving a shake, “It is nice to meet you,” I uttered. 

The man gave a slight smile and stepped back. Before I could make another movement however, another voice cut through the air. 

“Kajii is such a creep,” It voiced smoothly, “Forget about him ,”

The red haired man stood before me, a cocky but welcoming smirk on his face as he leaned back in his stance, peering down at me with a glint in his eyes. 

“I’m Tachihara,” He said as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, “Nice to meetcha.” 

“(Y/N)” I chimed as I took his waiting hand, “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

“Heh,” He huffs as he tilts his head, his eyes raking me up and down, “I think we are gonna get along very well.” 

In any situation, to hear these words would be atrocious. But Tachihara’s held no malice, with an innocent schoolboy impression on his face, as if he’d met a pretty teacher in his senior year. 

“Perhaps.” I uttered with a grin.

The girl in a white mask abruptly stood and shook my hand with a smile. I could not see her lips but the squint in her eyes was visible, and so I smiled back. She looked intimidating, but the girl held herself timidly, and I instantly took a liking to her. 

She moved aside as Akutagawa and the blonde woman strolled up to our now standing group, coming before me. 

“I’m Higuchi,” She introduces with a smile and shakes my hand with both of hers, “Akutagawa-senpai is my senior, it’s great to meet you.” Higuchi was very pretty, with pink lips and a slim face. Her eyes shined widely. 

“I’m very glad to be acquainted as well,” I replied with a genuine smile. 

The two women were friendly and kind, and as I yearned for companionship, I could not stop the real feeling of warmth that ran through me. 

Akutagawa stayed silent next to the women, his eyes gazing at me in slits. 

Knowing he would not address me, I began, “Akutagawa-kun,” I gave a small nod, “It’s nice to see you again.”

The pale boy coughed into his sleeve, a look of vulnerability flashed across his face before he masked it with indifference again, “You as well (L/N)-san.” He clipped. 

Chapter Text

It was Tachihara’s idea that we all went to get lunch together. Chuuya was hungry as well, and so he agreed that he and I would come along with the rest of the Black Lizard. Akutagawa mumbled something about agreeing, however begrudgingly, but followed us out. 

We were walking down the hallways which were warmer due to the frost outside, when Kaiji caught up with me standing uncomfortably close. I could feel his breath on my ear, making it moist and I wanted to do nothing but slap his face and wipe it off. 

“What do you like to do during your free time, (Y/N)-chan?” He asked, his shoulder brushing mine as we passed a corridor. 

“Read,” I hissed. 

“And when you're not reading?” 

His breath was deep and I felt a growing discomfort from the man. 

“Work,” 

“And,” He titled his head, his snake like mouth turning upward, “After hours?” 

I didn’t hide my grimace, stopping the action of walking completely in an accusing expression. Before I could open my mouth however, I saw everyone around us stopped aswell.

“Dazai!” I could hear Tachihara yell joyfully, “What a coincidence running into you here eh, good timing though, we’re going for lunch, wanna join us?” 

I heard Dazai chuckle, “Sure, but we aren’t dressed very inconspicuously Tachihara. What restaurant is going to let us in?” 

My mind was in too much of a disgusted turmoil to look up and so I turned my gaze to the tall stone wall behind Kaiji’s shoulder, which was in my view because the vermin insisted on standing close to me. 

“I know a guy, dont worry about it,” Tachihara gushed, “Lets go,” 

Everyone resumed their walk save for me, and consequently Kaiji who did not reliquent his persuasion. I looked back at his unsettling smirk with a disgusted frown. I took a step back, he stepped forward, but before I could defend myself we were interrupted. 

“(Y/N)?” 

Turning my head I saw Dazai standing a few feet from us, his lips downturned. He was in his usual grey coat with some files tucked under his arm. 

“What’s this?” He asked harshly. 

“We were just discussing dear (Y/N)-chan here,” Kaiji replied arrogantly. I couldn’t see his eyes through his goggles, but I knew they were narrowed. 

Dazai waited a few moments before stepping forward, ignoring Kaiji completely, “We should catch up with the others,” His hand reached out and I didn’t hesitate before I accepted it, stepping towards his form. 

Dazai turned and walked towards the receding forms of the Black Lizard members, and I spared no glances to Kaiji as I walked away with him. 

~~~

Lunch was spent at the establishment of a friend of Tachihara who caters to the mafia. He gave us a large private room where no one would ogle the odd group of people in suits and guns. The table filled to the brim with complimentary food from the manager. 

Dazai did not leave my side and while his behavior was odd I accepted it nonetheless. I sat positioned between Dazai and Chuuya, Kaiji sitting further down the table and out of reach. 

It didn’t stop him however, from sneaking glances at me, during those times Dazai’s grip on my hand tightened. 

I left my thoughts and decided to pay attention to everyone around me. The sounds of voices, silverware being handled and plates moving filled my ears. The general conversation was about Mexico. Higuchi wanted to go see the resorts while Hirotsu complemented their narcotic exports and imports. 

“Trotsky died in Mexico,” I murmured absentmindedly while cutting my food. 

A soft grin played on Dazai’s face as he answered, “Yes it was supposedly an icicle that hit him naturally,” 

“Ofcourse. All of Stalin’s enemies died natural deaths,” The sarcasm seeped through my tone. 

Dazai chuckled softly and I shifted in my seat to face him. His hair was a little disheveled and shaggy today, his tie done all wrong. Earlier today Dazai had an individual mission from Mori that neither Chuuya nor I were given the details of. 

“He became the lover of that woman, no? The painter?” Dazai inquired. 

“Yes Frida Kahlo. I read she was even arrested as a suspect when he was murdered,” I added. 

“I thought you said they died of natural causes,” He chided playfully. 

I looked down for a moment before peering into his eyes, “Murder is natural is it not?” 

Dazai’s smile widened,“It must be,” 

“(Y/N)?”

I looked across the long wooden table where I was being addressed by Higuchi, next to her sitting is Gin. They were giving me kind expressions. 

“Yes?” I asked tentatively. 

“Gin and I are going to my apartment later to have some wine and converse. Would you like to join us?” Higuchi pauses and murmurs, “-no no that sounds like a pity invite-,” She scrunches her nose and shakes her head, continuing, “No sorry wait, um. We would like you to come. I know you don’t know us well but seeing as we are some of the very few female mafia members we should get to know each other. But if you don’t feel comfortable I understand,” 

Before I had the chance to answer, Dazai whispered in my ear subtly, “You should make new friends,” 

“I - Thank you I would like that very much,” I said kindly. 

Higuchi instantly smiled, clapping her hands together, “That's great! I’ll come get you around 6 then. Do I go to Chuuya or Dazai’s office?” She asked.

“Mine,” Dazai cut in. 

Higuchi nodded and gave an amused smile, with a hint of emotion I could not decipher, “Noted,” 

Beside her, Gin eye’s sparkled and gave me a grin. 

When the lunch was over, we all walked back to the mafia headquarters. Everyone was conversing with each other. Dazai and I strolled at the end of the group hand in hand, and I paid mind to position myself farthest from Kaiji. 

“You’ll like Gin and Higuchi, they are uplifting and pleasant people,” Dazai murmurs to me, his eyes still in front of him as we pass a very lush park. 

I gave him a smile, “I do like them already I just-” I had cut myself off before I delved into my insecurities with Dazai.

But he felt the shift in air and ceased his walk, turning towards me and gently placing his hands on my jaw, lifting my face to him so I could not turn away. 

“Tell me,” He commanded softly. 

I waited a few seconds before sighing, “I’ve never had female friends, or really any friends in general and what if- I don’t know what do I say or talk about. And what if they don’t like me? It's foolish but I’d like to have friends. I’m just worried and-” 

A finger was placed over my lips and they stopped moving as Dazai searched my eyes. His thumb pressing lightly over the lightly tinted lipstick I placed on this morning. Abruptly, Dazai broke into a wide smile, a real smile. His eyes were scrunched up and lips upturned widely, but closed tightly as if opening them would break into a fit of laughter. 

At that moment I thought he looked magnificent. His chest heaving from silent laughter and face flushed. His eyes were so bright, they didn’t seem brown at all. His other hand that was in his pocket came around to my hair, toying with the tips of it. 

I wanted to glare or scowl at him, for laughing at my confession but it was such a rare genuine emotion that Dazai exhibited and I couldn’t find anywhere in myself to reprimand him for it. He showed me a real emotion and I accepted it wholeheartedly. 

“I promise I am not ridiculing you,” He finally said when he calmed down,” It’s just,” Dazai shook his head amused, “We’ve been on countless missions, dangerous positions. You’ve left your organization and there is a target on your head. You had deceived the boss of the Port Mafia and I’ve never seen you so worried. Yet, here you are, nerves on end, worried and anxious over your ability to keep and maintain a friendship with two people,” At his words he broke out in laughter, and moved his hand to my shoulder to hold himself up as his chest raked. 

Never in my life had I seen Dazai laugh so hard, so genuinely. He straightened up and threw his head back, his mouth hanging open and eyes scrunched close as the final laughs poured out of him. The noise sounded godlike, as if Zues was laughing over Mount Olympus, his head stuck out of the clouds for us all to hear. And when Dazai looked back at me, his face all flushed, hair disheveled and eye’s glassy, I broke into a grin. 

Dazai stepped forward, taking my face into both his hands and tilting his head into my ear. We were standing in the center of the park, a fountain to my left. I could hear the calming sound of water running, not yet frozen despite the colder climate outside. There are no other sounds, except that of birds singing to each other. Beautiful songs I could never comprehend, languages that will never be learned, safe from the destructive hands of man. 

His breath left pressure down my neck, and I could feel it run down my spine as my hands involuntarily clutched the jacket on his forearms. 

Time slowed, and it was a mere 10 seconds that felt like lifetimes for me, as Dazai nuzzled into my hair, then leaning once again lower until his mouth was over my ear. 

“You needn’t let these things bother you. Admittedly, I have yet to fully understand the need for human connection, and sometimes I find myself in the action of yearning for company. Your company, for if there is any hope of connection for myself I find that it may be to you. It is only fair that if you are the only person in my company than I wish I was the only in yours, but that is not what you need. You crave human connection with a number of people, they call it a friend. And so while it would not bother me should you never make another friend but I, it would certainly bother you even if not consciously.” 

His lips moved against my ear, I could feel the soft heat emanating from them, and I found no others words adequate enough to convey how I felt for I myself did not understand it.

“It wouldn’t bother me,” Is what I utter. 

“No you mean to say it shouldn’t bother you but my (Y/N) it will. You underestimate your social skills, less is more as they say. And don’t forget that Gin herself barely speaks, while Higuchi is used to stray dogs. We are all stray dogs here, and while I would never compare you to a dog for that would be a lame confession of affections on my part, you will fit in just fine. Gracious even.” 

I stepped back to gaze into his eyes, which stared at me in turn with such intensity I almost recoiled. His hands were in my waist, digging into the skin over my dress, our lips hovering over the other. 

“And what,” I murmured quietly, almost a whisper but I knew he could hear me, briefly turning my gaze down to his lips before returning to his eyes, “Would be an adequate confession of affections, on my part?” 

We were breathing on each other, he pulled me closer until there was no room left, “This,” He uttered, and not a second later his lips were on mine. 

It took me a moment to respond, and I shut my eyes, moving my lips with his in a symphony of words and feelings. I couldn’t breath, not while his lips caressed mine and his tongue slipping in and stroked.

He pushed me and I took steps backwards until my spine hit a tree, our lips never parting, until I was being crushed between his chest and the bark. One of his hands lifted onto my face, a firm hold on my jaw, keeping it towards his mouth. 

It felt like a painting being completed, Botticelli’s last strokes of his soft brush on the edges of Venus’s breasts. The musicians playing in perfect harmony as Claude Debussy hit his last ivory key. All my thoughts stopped,I could not think, only feel. Feel him. My mind only felt him as my hands wrapped around his neck and into his brown hair. 

I ran my hands through the curls, it felt like silk through my fingers. My other hand stroked lazy touches behind his neck. His hand on my waist slid under the dress, hitching my thigh around his and rubbing the skin. 

It felt like bliss, and I had never felt anything like it. I felt complete, and nothing mattered. I could do this for days on end and no other thought would invade the intensity of his skin on mine, his lips caressing mine. It felt like the gods themselves carved my lips to fit his, and his to accept mine. 

I never felt so sure of an action while Dazai’s fingers caressed the inside of my thigh, however slipping no further. Still, he touched places that no one else has ever touched, where no other man’s skin but Dazai's has stroked. I gasped into his mouth and he shut it with his lips. 

Dazai’s lips parted from mine and latched onto my jaw, placing kisses there until moving further down, onto my neck, sucking and kissing the skin. His fingers petting my inner thigh. My head tilted back, my skull resting on the tree as my breathing intensifies. 

Dazai kissed the spot under my ear and I let out a whimper, my actions uncontrollable. 

I couldn’t take it, and I pulled his head back up with the hand massaging his scalp, placing his lips on mine once again. He growled into the kiss as his tongue slipped between my lips and I pulled onto his hair again, he liked it. 

It was an indefinite amount of time that we kissed by the tree. His hands roamed over my body, but nowhere that took it too far. His touches seared fire everywhere they went, and my body felt hot. His touch set my skin ablaze and then put it out, goosebumps erupting everywhere. His mouth swallowed all my whimpers and mewls, and everytime my grip tightened in his hair, his fingers on my thigh dug in harder, the pain pleasurable. I felt pressure build in the pit of my stomach, a feeling I've never had.

His lips roamed my neck, my jaw. Kissing and sucking. He bit my collarbone, and I hissed, the sting euphoric, before licking it over, marking me. I kissed down his throat, sucking and marking him in turn as he shuddered.

Our lips moved in tandem before we simultaneously ended the kiss, keeping little space between our lips. 

“Mine,” Dazai demanded, his eyes searching mine, his lips moving over mine, “You can have all the friendships you desire but tell me you’ll be mine,” 

His voice was deep and velvety, but his tone was off. It wasn’t over confident like it usually is. As I searched his eyes, I realized why. Dazai, he looked so vulnerable. His voice was unsure, his face in agony, and it was because he was giving me a part of himself that Dazai never has. He never shared. I felt special, a feeling only he could make me feel. 

“Yours,” I soothed over his soft swollen lips, “I’m yours,” 

~~~

After my words, Dazai kissed me once again and took my hand. We walked in comfortable quiet down the streets. I had only then realized how cold it had gotten and how long we were gone, but Dazai’s touch gave me warmth no machine could ever hope to produce. 

When we arrived at the headquarters there was no one in the hallways. It was of no matter, and we continued down the corridors towards Dazai’s office. 

When the door was closed, he lifted my chin and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. 

“There are some files I need to fill out by tonight,” He says, “Stay here with me, there’s a lot of books you’d like on the shelves, and the arm chairs are comfortable,” Dazai gestured to the shelve that lined the wall of his office that is filled with works from top to bottom. 

“I’ll read one to pass time,” I replied as I walked over to his shelf, my fingers skimming over the titles, “What time is it?” 

Dazai walked over to his desk, taking a seat and pulling open a yellow folder, he checked the watch over his wrist, “About 3:30, Higuchi will be here in 2 and a half hours,” 

I gave a nod and went over to the armchair, settling myself in it comfortably and opening up the pages of The Odyssey by Homer.

However as minutes passed I realized I could not focus on the words of Homer, of the travels and sacrifices of the Greeks, but of what had happened only a quarter of an hour ago. Of the feeling of Dazai’s lips and hands, petting and roaming me. And how I let him, how I welcomed it and reciprocated the act. 

How I told him I am his. I’m yours , I had said. But the gravest fact is how I really am, and always was, since the moment I met him and all our interactions in between. His manipulation that shifted to sincereness, and my betrayal which shifted into partnership. And now it has led us to this, whatever this is. Whatever it means to have this belonging to eachother. 

But unlike most changes in my life, I am not afraid of what the future holds for us. 

“There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.” Homer, The Odyssey 

Time passed quickly while Dazai worked and I read. After recalling my earlier sensations I was able to put my mind at rest and allow myself to focus on the pages of Homer’s writings. Before I knew it, there was a knock on the door. Dazai rose from his seat and opened it as I uncurled my legs from under me and put the book down. I could see a tuft of blonde hair in the doorway. 

“Good Evening Dazai-san,” Higuchi regarded respectfully, and then said cheerily with a smile, “Is (Y/N)-chan here?” 

He gave a polite nod, “She is,” and moved out of the doorway. 

Higuchi walked into the room as I stood up, grabbing my coat and bag. I gave her a smile when she walked over to me. Her hair that was in a bun earlier today was let loose. The short golden strands flew freely as it was held back by a butterfly clip, and her black suit was now a blue sundress, the same color as mine. 

“Higuchi,” I said kindly, “You look lovely,” 

She engulfed me in a hug in which I hugged back, and in doing so got a smell of her perfume. It was sweet. 

“Please, I just let my hair down and changed into the dress I brought, and look at that we are twinning,” She professed, “You are lovely.” She wrapped her arm around mine and walked us towards the door, “I will be stealing her now Dazai-san,” and then turned back to me, “Chuuya gave me a bottle of his expensive Rosè that he had in his cellar - he prefers red wine and didn’t care much for it - and Gin is on the way to my place,”

“I love Rosè,” I replied with a grin, “And thank you for the invite,” 

“Nonsense nonsense,” She waved her hand, “Us women must stick together, besides we were all so curious about the mysterious newcomer that we had no information of for weeks and I celebrated when I found out it was a woman, there are much too few of us in this line of work if I do say so myself,” 

Before I could say more Dazai called my name, and walked over to us, “I’ll be here for a while to finish up this paperwork, I can pick you up later if you need, just call me,” 

“Oh, thank you, I will let you know then, it might be late,” 

He waved his hand, strolling closer, uncaring of Higuchi’s presence and lifted my chin between his fingers (I started to think this action was a favorite of his due to the fact that he was much taller than me, but I also think he liked the control and touch) He placed another chaste kiss on my lips before murmuring, “I’ll be up,” and going back to his desk. 

“I’ll see you then, Goodbye,” 

Higuchi had practically dragged me out of the room and slammed the door shut, an astonished expression on her face, “Oh my, Oh my,” She was jumping up and down on her heels, “This, was - oh my - well I had a suspicion after seeing him literally glued to you all day but this,” She was looking at me with such excitement, her jaw open, and I could not help but giggle with her.

Since when did I giggle?

“You are telling us everything after some glasses of wine, come come let's get back faster,” 

Our arms still wrapped around each other, we hopped through the halls in girlish giggles until getting into her car. Higuchi’s amazement had not ceased the whole ride but did not bring it up yet. 

Gin stood in front of the lavish apartment complex, a tall building with long black glass window panes on all sides. Had Higuchi not walked towards her, I would have never known the lady standing in front of me was Gin. 

Her mask was off, and long black hair fluttering around her in a little white dress. Gin’s face was beautiful, with little lips and a small noise, upturned eyes. Her cheeks flushed with a blush. 

“Gin,” I greeted, “You look beautiful,” 

She looked down in shyness and held the ends of her dress, an adorable expression, “Thank you, (Y/N)” her voice was soft, “You look great as well, my brother has mentioned you,” 

“You- Your brother?” I asked with furrowed brows. 

“Ryunosuke, is my brother,” She informed with an amused look, as if she was expecting the reaction. 

My eyes widened, “Oh well I,” I let out a laugh,” I would never have guessed,”

She laughed back, “No one ever does,”

“Gin, you won’t believe what I witnessed when I picked up (Y/N)-chan from Dazai’s office, come inside!” Higuchi exclaimed while leading us into an elevator. 

She unlocked her apartment and ushered us in, flicking the lights on. It was a luxurious flat, large with open spaces and big windows. The furniture theme white and gold. She led us over to the living room where 3 large couches were positioned around a coffee table, a golden persian rug underneath. The couches faced a large glass wall, Yokohama’s streets in view. 

It was different from Mori’s view since we were not as high up, the individual streets visible. The sky was getting dark, the sun at the end of its course, giving the apartment an orange lighting. Higuchi’s apartment also had many plants, some in pots and some hanging from the ceiling. She returned momentarily from the kitchen, a bottle and 3 glasses in her hands. 

I removed my shoes while Higuchi placed the glasses for Gin and I. She sat next to me on the couch, much less rigid and very familiar with the home. 

When our glasses were filled with the rose gold liquid, Higuchi took a seat on the couch to my right, folding her feet under her thighs. 

She took a sip, “Make yourselves at home, and welcome to my home (Y/N), feel free to relax. I have some pasta cooking on the stove, are you hungry? You must be hungry by now. Don’t worry, I won't start with what I saw earlier,” She said with raised eyebrows, “Until your more comfortable with us and had more to drink, so drink up, and we’ll start with easy discussion to get to know eachother,” 

I had an amused look plastered on my face at Higuchi’s friendliness and exclamations, swinging the glass and taking a long unlady like sip. I settled into the couch more comfortably, folding my legs criss cross and giving her a smile, “There you go,” 

She laughed, “Okay well the first question we usually ask at these things are what your previous occupation was, I’ll go first, I was a nurse - don’t laugh again Gin -” Gin started laughing, “But besides that we will have no work talk,” 

I gave an uneasy smile, “Well I worked for a previous organization in the U.S. where I grew up and, erm, I left and joined the Port Mafia,” It wasn't exactly accurate but I doubt that anyone but Dazai and Mori knew all details of my past. 

She nodded tentatively, “I see, well don’t worry I won't pry,” She took a long sip of her wine, “Gin, your turn,”

Gin took a sip and looked at us, “Well I joined after my brother did, and before that I was just a student, nothing exciting,” 

We exchanged some more small talk and refilled our glasses, the wine loosening everybody up. Higuchi had taken to asking random questions and reciting stories from when she was young growing up in Tokyo, but I indulged her nonetheless, her friendly and extroverted mood uplifting mine. Gin had also become more talkative after some time. We all laughed a lot. 

“No really,” She gushed, sprawled around the couch with the glass in her hand, “We were young, experimenting, I didn’t know we were gonna get caught. So then a dean walks in the janitor’s closet, and don't ask, to this day I still don’t have a clue as to why the damn dean was going into the janitor’s closet, but she was one quiet beast. And so we didn’t hear her until the door was open and she was standing with her hands on her hips, viewing everything. There was no excuse, my leg was hitched over the girl’s thigh, and her hand in my shirt, her mouth on my neck. God,” She exclaimed with a sigh, shaking her head, “It was a disaster. They called both our parents, who were freaking out. We were bestfriends, we had sleepovers, and really we never did anything until then, but you know parents and principles, convinced we were sleeping together and “sinning” for months.” She grumbled, “And in Tokyo, a strict school. They were going to send us to a camp, a rehabilitation program for troubled youth. It was a sham, the institution was like a mental hospital for kids caught with the same sex. I don’t know what they think they could do, alter our hormones? My parents didn’t listen, convinced I slept with every woman I saw, that I was going to hell,” She snickered, “They made me reread bible verses. Girls weren't allowed into my room. Oh, it was awful. I ran away, left it all. Futaba - my best friend, the girl - had ran away weeks prior, and so I followed her footsteps. And I couldn't stay in my neighborhood or around it, the news had got out about what happened, all the parents were suspicious of their kids being homosexual.”

She had started with the story of her life, how it had led her to Yokohama and the Port Mafia. I was on my toes, hanging onto every word of Higuchi’s story. It was tragic and humorful, like a modern Shakespearan play. 

“Skipped town, got a new identity, went to medical school. I became a nurse and was convinced my life was set, but things happened. I got into bad circles, started owing debts I couldn’t pay. The wrong people and wrong time, I was desperate. I had no money. I knew I had an ability since I was young, but I was scared of it. Acted like if I didn’t use it or acknowledge it, it would go away, and I could be normal. But times got tough, and I ended up using it to steal.” She huffed a laugh, “I got caught my third time obviously, was never much of a thief. But then the Port Mafia caught wind of a new ability user and approached me, the rest is history,” 

My jaw was open at Higuchi’s confessions and my eyes popping out of it’s sockets, “I - Well I don't even know what to say oh lord,” I stood up and walked over to her, tripping over my legs because of the alcohol in my system, “That is, I’m so sorry that happened to you, I've never heard anything like it, but I am glad it did because then we would never have met,”

Higuchi pulled my hand and I fell on top of her, she was cackling, “Awe, that's so sweet no one’s ever said that to me before,” She said between breaths, “Don’t worry about it, it was long ago. I like my life now.”  

“The Port Mafia was a salvation to me too,” I reassured with a large smile. Giggles falling from my lips for no apparent reason other than the alcohol in my system. 

“Gin!” Higuchi called, “Get in here,” She opened her arms and Gin walked to the couch next to us. We were sprawled around each other then, wine glasses in hands. 

“I’ve never had friends,” I suddenly said with a smile, the Rosè making me sentimental, “I’m glad you asked me over today,” 

“We like you too (Y/N)” Gin answered sweetly, the alcohol giving her a pink flush. 

“Okay!” Higuchi says with her hands clasped, “I’m refilling our glasses, we are playing a game, and then eating my pasta. So, I will ask questions, and if any of us has done what I ask, then you take a sip,” 

She detangled herself from Gin and I, grabbed the bottle and poured it in all our glasses, her actions sluggish and her body swaying from drunkenness. 

“So first one,” She exclaimed as we all went to the carpet and sat in a circle, “Kissed a girl?” 

Higuchi and Gin took a sip. 

“Who did you kiss Gin!” I asked with joy, the wine making all three of us smile and laugh non-stop. 

“Higuchi,” She hiccups, smiling into the glass. 

“Oh my, don’t go spilling all our secrets,” The blonde murmured, looking to the side. 

“Are you guys - together?” I questioned. 

“Ha, oh no no, Gin here goes both ways but we aren’t. It was just a drunken kiss.” Higuchi laughed and replied. 

“Next question,” She says, “Almost die on a mission?”

We all drank with chortles. 

“Use methods of seduction on a mission?” 

Higuchi and I drank, eyeing each other with a sad smile at the need to use our bodies for deception. 

“Have a one night stand?” 

To my astonishment, Gin drank. 

“Gin-” 

“When!”

Higuchi and I cried out. 

Gin shrugged with a devious grin, “I wanted to try it last year,” 

“Damn Gin, your innocent face is utter foolery,” Higuchi jokes, “Have you ever knocked someone out with a random item, and what was it?” 

We all drank. 

“Okay, I was in a bad position, and I grabbed someone's metal briefcase and slammed it into another guy’s face,” I hiccuped and sniggered. 

“I would pay to see that,” Higuchi chucked, “I had to use a stop sign that was on the ground,”

“I used a pan,” Gin added. 

At this point we were all convulsed with laughter at the other’s choice of object. Sprawled over the ground, Higuchi was swinging her legs in the air. 

“My pasta!” She exclaimed, jumping up suddenly and running lopsidedly to the kitchen. Her odd run had me laughing harder. 

Once the pasta was passed around in plates, we - still sitting around each other on the floor and eating like a man starved - continued our talks. 

“Okay (Y/N), time to fess up,” Higuchi started, “And for Gin who did not have the delight of witnessing what I saw I will explain,” 

She said with a devious grin as she turned to Gin who was eyeing us with intrigue, “I went to pick up (Y/N) from Dazai’s office, and you know how we were talking about this earlier. How he was holding her in some way or another all day, the walk, the restaurant, and smiling - which I have never seen him do - Well… When we were leaving the office,” 

At this point Higuchi stood up, reenacting the scene and puffing out her chest in a manly Dazai manner, “He walks up all sexy and brooding,” She imitates the walk, “And grabs (Y/N)’s chin, tilting her into his eyes, all dominant and controlling,” I pinched the bridge of my nose and smiled at her silly explanations, “No don't scowl (Y/N) that is exactly what he did,” She scolded me eyeing my reaction, “And says:”

She starts in a deep voice, “I will pick you up later, call me, good girl,” 

“He did not!” I shrieked and stood up, hunched over howling with laughter, lopsidedly if I may add due to the amount of wine I drank, “He did not say good girl,” I pointed out with a finger at her, laughter raking through my chest. I was heaving at this point. 

“Oh whatever, he might as well of with all that brooding and domineering nature! He looked at you like he was going to eat you,” She exclaims in retort.

Gin, who was the quietest out of both of us burst into laughter, rolling onto her side on the ground. Tears were falling from her eyes from the laughs, “That sounds like Dazai alright.” 

“You have to spill everything, how long has this been going on!” Higuchi demanded with a smile, her hands over my shoulders. 

“Fine fine,” I surrendered, “Really today was the first time we kissed. We were walking back from the restaurant with you all and, erm, we stopped and well.” I looked away with a blush. 

“Go on,” Gin said with wide eyes. 

The sky was dark now, the sun falling under the skyline hours ago. Higuchi’s lights were all on, and she turned on salt scented candles giving a pleasant smell around the house. 

“Well we were talking and he was, uh, murmuring in my ear and all that but he’s done it before. And I said something bold which was unusual but I had a sudden urge you know, and then he kissed me and I kissed back so we just, ah, kissed by a tree for a while.” 

Higuchi jumped up and down while Gin smiled widely, “Oh that makes me so happy! Who knew all Dazai needed was a sexy foreigner.” 

“Gin!” I retorted. 

“She's right you know,” Higuchi smirked, “Everyone was wondering who the foreigner was. Hirotsu had seen you briefly in passing and all he said was that it was a girl. Then a week later Akutagawa said she was and I quote tolerable, and Dazai’s new partner. He was just bitter because Dazai had respected and acknowledged you. And Chuuya wouldn’t say much so we were all surprised when he brought you this morning. It didn’t matter who you were though I was glad we had a girl, but intrigued at why they were all hogging you from us,” 

“Oh, I didn’t know that um, people knew who I was,” I stammered. 

“We are glad we do,” Higuchi said, “And I'm happy for you and Dazai with whatever is going on. I don’t care if he is an executive, if he hurts you, he has to answer to me,”

“And me!” Gin shouted with a stand in a show of drunkenness. 

~~~

We all drank and ate more, exchanging stories and playing drinking games. It was joyful and the first experience of it’s kind that I ever had. I was more than glad. I don't think I ever laughed more in my life. 

It was about 12:00 when I called Dazai. Higuchi had insisted that I sleep over, but I declined. I wanted to see him. I was still drunk, but sobering up slowly as I drank water and not anymore Rosè. 

My phone rang in my bag, and I opened it up. There was a text from Dazai, he arrived. 

“Higuchi, Gin, Dazai just arrived,” I called out to them and walked into the living room. 

Gin engulfed me into a crushing hug, “Lets do this again,” She said kindly. 

“Definitely,” 

“Awe my dear (Y/N) I don't want to let you go,” Higuchi declared as she walked over and hugged me. 

I held her forearms with a smile, “I’ll see you this week anyway, and we’ll get together often,” I said. 

“I will hold you to it,” She replied. 

When I got out I saw a small black sports car in the front, it was a porsche. Dazai stood there in all his glory, his black coat swaying with the wind, bandage wrapped tightly around one eye, and a little grin on his face. 

I walked over hesitantly, and Dazai seemed to notice my nerves as he pulled my arm and crushed me into his chest. I leant my head into the crook of his neck. 

“Did you have fun?” He asked amusedly. 

“Yes, I loved it, I loved them.” 

He stepped back briefly, cupping my face and kissing my lips, I smiled into it.

Chapter Text

Love and affection are fickle things, and no matter how many people in the world may say that love is the strongest form of connection I have never agreed. 

How could love be the strongest form of affection when humans come together so marvelously through hate?

 As a child I read history textbooks, Western History, and the conclusion I drew upon myself after studying in meticulous detail the history of Europe, each grotesque aspect, each cause and effect, each historical speech and philosophical work by men who observed and never acted  was - that the only occasions where a people had united was not through mere love, but common hate.

What other conclusion can any man -  noble or pathetic - draw when faced with the disturbing details of humankind? It is those times when I envied Dazai’s ability to so easily isolate and differentiate himself from humans though I know he himself despised it, no matter how it allows him to live conveniently, freed from the constraints of humanity’s shame. 

Austria, Prussia, Britain, and Russia were four highly competitive countries, and through the 18th century, Britain, Austria, Prussia, and France participated in two great wars - The War of Austrian succession, and later, The 7 Years War. With the contempt Maria Theresa held for Frederick The Great the two countries were at constant hostilities, in the meanwhile Britain and France had continued their long lasting feud - not expelled since the 100 Years War centuries ago. And so it was of great astonishment to myself, when Austria, Prussia, Britain, and Russia had united in the early 1800s in light of their common enemy, the infamous Napoleon Bonaparte. As such when Russia had forgone the Continental System - a blockade of british goods by Napoleon - prompting him to invade. As well as when France was weakened, all three countries united together against Napoleon. 

It was the mutual threat, and their disdain which overcame the rivalries of these four great powers, to unite with hate as their motivator. And after Napoleon was defeated, Metternich at the Congress of Vienna had created another threat to the absolute powers of monarchies, uniting them once more for their crusade against liberalism and nationalism.

The Napoleonic wars are but one glorifying example of the common theme, but is the one I cite most for human beings are more inclined to listen and agree with what they call radical notions so long as they perceive it as something far away from them currently - and in means of history - long ago; since they reject the obvious repetitions of history for denial to admitting to themselves they repeat the same mistakes. It is this arrogance that humanity carries, which blinds them from understanding they are displaying identical errors. 

It is this fact, which pulls me further away from the torment of a fickle love, and hope to Eros, that my love ( I’ve admitted this love to myself but not to him yet ) for Dazai, is built on a strong enough foundation of mutual hate. 

Whether it is hate of this world, of each other, of ourselves, or the man we bow to, I had no clue. 

___

“You admire Hobbes and dislike Locke? My, my and I thought you were fair,” Dazai chastised from where he was sitting under me, I sat situated sideways on his thigh. 

“I didn’t say I dislike Locke, rather, I prefer Hobbes,” I murmured, wrapping the coil of brown hair that fell onto his forehead around my index finger as I shifted to turn towards him. 

Dazai gave a lazy smirk, “And why is that?” He asked. 

I turned fully and straddled his lap as Dazai’s head fell to the crook of my neck, placing soft chaste kisses on my revealed skin. His hands wrapped around my waist tighter and pushed until our torsos were glued together. 

I smiled into his hair, “Locke is quite the dreamer, Hobbes has more sense because he’s been exposed to the masses and their violent nature. Parliament’s included.” 

Dazai lifted his head, his lips placing kisses on my face while he spoke between them, “To me, you are quite the dreamer, you preached hope to me when we first met, did you not?” 

I ran my fingers through his soft hair, it smelled like him. Sweet, woody, violent. 

“Hope is hardly a farfetched concept. Besides, Hobbes’s government is similar to Plato’s. Strong, educated, and centered,” I replied, reciprocating kisses on his unblemished, porcelain skin.

“And what did we say of Plato’s government?” He retorted, and I could feel his smile on my cheek. 

I shot him a glare before replying, “That it can easily turn into corruption.” 

“Yes it can,” He breathed, kissing a spot under my ear until my breath hitched and my hands tightened in his hair, “That is my answer.” 

“I can still - um - I can,” I licked my lips and took a deep breath before answering, my brain begging to shut off and my body involuntarily loosening, “I can still prefer Hobbes.” 

“Mhhm,” Dazai replied, one of his hands moving to rub my inner thigh.

My breath hitched again and he drew an involuntary whimper with his skilled menstrations before lifting his head and kissing my lips. 

I reciprocated, letting his tongue slip in as his hand rose higher and mine drew harder. 

We went no further, and simply kissed and kissed on his armchair in his office, books and unfinished paperwork strung on the wood floors and coffee tables, forgotten to the throws of affection fueled lust that lost us in between each other's limbs.

It had been three days since the park kiss. Dazai and I spent those days exploring each other's lips. He made no actions to push any further, and I did not complain nor disagree. Further than not minding the mindful pace, all the sensations he pulled from me had been completely unfamiliar. I did not know one could breathe better in another's presence, that one's body could feel so hot.  

His fingertips left heat in its wake - everywhere - when he simply caressed and pet my skin, my arms, thighs, torso and neck. His lips healed the scars littering my imperfect body. 

We had barely gotten any work done at all, and with the Gala only two weeks away, it seemed hopeless. I could barely keep my fingers off Dazai’s bandaged neck for two hours, and I learned addiction to one’s scent, touch, and attention was a real thing, yet I would never go to any rehab for it. 

I stroked my hands over his bandages, and did not push him nor ask about them. It was too early and I respected Dazai quite too much to set his affections to a different standard. 

After some time, when both our lips were red and poofy, when my cheeks were flushed and his hair stuck out in awkward angles did we detach our limbs and sit like two adults who had perfect self control on two seperate armchairs.

“We’ve neglected Chuuya,” I commented while Dazai rearranged his dark green tie, and how I so loved that tie on him. 

Dazai huffed with narrowed eyes and stood up, walking towards my armchair. He snatched my chin with two fingers, and I couldn't help but lean into them as he bent my neck in an awkward position to look up at his angular face marred with a tight lipped expression. It was so very hard to focus when I could smell his cologne, “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of Chuuya right now?” 

I focused instantly then, his voice husky and stern, “No - oh no, I didn’t mean-” 

Dazai hushed me with a thumb to my lips, while he traced the lines of my bottom lip he uttered, “Chuuya’s a big boy no matter how immature he acts, he’ll be fine.” 

I knew Dazai and Chuuya actually cared for each other dearly even when they would rather sacrifice themselves for the other than admit it, however what I did not realize was that Dazai’s possessiveness extended to Chuuya.

I quickly nodded while Dazai added pressure on my lips. As I parted them he slipped his thumb in and I tried to gasp but found I couldn’t, rather, his thumb slipped further into my mouth. As inexperienced as I was, I felt the need to act, and so slowly I started to suck on the finger. Hollowing my cheeks and pushing it further into my mouth until my gag reflex would reject it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, and I could feel the salty taste of his skin. The rest of his fingers curled into my jaw. 

As I looked back up into Dazai’s eyes, I had almost recoiled when met with dark dilated pupils, a lust filled gaze as if he would devour me, and I realised my eyes probably looked the same, however, waiting to be devoured. 

I found that oddly I quite liked the feeling of Dazai’s thumb in my mouth, of being the cause of such a rose hue highlighting his cheeks. I didn’t think he realized his mouth was parted as he silently inhaled and exhaled while his chest rose from the intensity. Unblinking he looked at me like I was so many things, I could not handle the intensity. 

Dazai’s thumb went further until his knuckle was well past my mouth and the tip of his finger was hitting the back of my throat. I kept sucking, tasting his skin, his husk, reveling in the effect I had on him, and the effect I was receiving. The heat that was forming under my belly. I felt the texture of his skin on my tongue, savored the bodily, salty taste.

“Careful,” Dazai whispered, so lowly, guttural, almost feral, “It’s taking a great deal to control myself,” 

I pushed my head, until my chin rested on his thigh and my neck was fully bent, before slowly, relieving the pressure on his thumb and parting my lips. 

Dazai’s thumb traced my tongue as it slipped out, however he did not move it, and started to rub my lips with his wet thumb,my own saliva trailing in its wake. 

I gazed up at him with adoration that I could not hide, my pupils were surely blown like his. It seemed all my emotions were displayed, and though I could see his restraint, he couldn’t prevent bodily functions from performing their duties. 

Dazai’s thumb hesitantly left my lips after thoroughly smearing my saliva on them as he retreated his hand into his pocket, and put the other which was previously to his side on my cheek, “Don’t push, mon coeur, I don’t want to scare you away.”

“I've seen scarier things,” I replied, my voice throaty and barely above a whisper before questioning his endearment, “My heart?” I asked.

Dazai gave a charming grin, it suited his face and that in itself was an irony, “If I had a heart somewhere, it would be with you surely.” 

As a shocked and affectionate smile pulled at my lips, the wooden door of Dazai’s office which had not been disturbed for three days swung open abruptly. My head whipped to the right, alarmed, and even more so at Dazai’s relaxed state when he made no move to move his hand off my cheek that still rested on his thigh, and stood in comfortable poise. 

Chuuya, standing in the doorway walking nonchalantly had suddenly recoiled when his gaze landed on its two occupants, and took a step back, but I could see the instant cogs turning in his heads. His eyes narrowed at my form, Dazai’s hand on my cheek and my cheek on his thigh. Chuuya looked away. 

He gave Dazai a nasty glare and refused to gaze back at me. Dazai gently released me and turned towards Chuuya fully, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and his oxfords impatiently tapping on the wood floor. In embarrassment I had turned my head the other way and focused on the bookshelf, the colors of each book spine as I reread the title in my head. 

“What do you need so urgently as to barge into my office like an imbecile without knocking? Is Yokohama on fire?” Dazai cooly asked, blocking me from view as I silently thanked him in my head. I doubt I looked appropriate with the top buttons of my dress undone and chapped lips. 

Chuuya’s tone was malicious, “There's a voluntary raid tonight, I was going to see if you two would like to join but you look very… busy. ”

Dazai barely reacted, “Yes as you can see we have prior engagements.” 

“I was not informed,” Chuuya hissed through a flexed jaw.

One single eyebrow raised on the brunette's expression, “I don’t inform you of the things I privately do.” 

Chuuya, who was controlled for some moments finally enraged in a very Chuuya manner, “Yeah and what's that, getting your dick wet? Like you're in some common brothel!” 

“Chuuya-” Dazai began but was cut off by his provoked partner. 

“Are you gonna fuck your next partner and afterwards why not bring some whores into headquarters too!”  

I visibly winced and refused to take my eyes off the blue spine of the book, repeating its title in my head and breathing through my nose.

The Count of Monte Cristo 

The Count of Monte Cristo 

The Count of Monte Cristo 

Focus 

The Count of Monte Cristo 

The Count of Monte Cristo 

The Count of Monte Cristo 

The Count of Monte Cristo 

Ofcourse, Dazai had noticed the wince as his tone became icy. I shivered as the room turned into 5 degrees fahrenheit when he spoke, each word with a disturbing enhauncation. If Chuuya could see aura, black wind would be radiating Dazai’s form, “If  you  so  much  as  inhale  one  more  breath  in  my  presence  at  this  very  moment  I  will  not  hesitate  to  exhibit  for  you  why  and  how  exactly  I  became  a  mafia  executive  at  14,  and  if  I  am  not  hauling  your  dismembered  corpse  outside  I  doubt  you  will  breathe  clearly  again  Chuuya  once  you  leave  this  room. Get. Out. Now.” 

It was silent, so silent the silence was terribly loud and truly before Chuuya could inhale another breathe I was flinching when the door slammed into the wall. 

Instantly Dazai turned around and the room returned to normal temperature as he kneeled in front of me and took my face in his hands, and I found his eye much more calming to look at than the spine of a book. Dazai wiped the tear that without my knowledge fell down my cheek and picked me up to sit as I was placed into his lap. He pet my hair soothingly while my head rested in the crook of his neck. The familiar smell of sharp woody cologne calmed me down, as it mixed with Dazai’s natural smell of ink, leather, and husk. 

“Why was he so angry?” Eventually I asked as our thumbs caressed eachother’s, bending and fighting.

“He doesn't like feeling unneeded, like a child,” Dazai replied firmly, gazing at our intertwined fingers as well, “It doesn’t allow him to speak of things he knows nothing about or insult you.”

“Chuuya hates me now,” I added weakly through tears. 

Dazai hasitally wiped them, his palm engulfing my face as he soothed, “No Chuuya does not hate, especially not pretty women who did nothing wrong. He’s impulsive and angry all the time, especially in my presence. Once he calms down he will apologize,” Dazai’s choice dropped a few octaves and temperatures lower, “I assure you, there will be an apology.” 

I sighed and nuzzled further into Dazai’s shoulder. His body was warm, and I was always so terribly cold, “I value him as a friend,” I commented truthfully, “He was my first friend I-”

“He’ll come around (Y/N), don’t worry. Chuuya and I go through this atleast once a month, it was a miracle you haven't seen it yet.” Dazais hands moved massaging circles in my hair. 

“I don’t want to cause a rift between you two, this clearly involved me.” 

It was a moment before Dazai replied, “No, no I don’t think his anger was out of hate for you.” 

We fell into comfortable silence once again, laid in eachothers arms like the world was nothing beyond this room. It was a good while before I broke the silence.  

“What if he tells people what he saw?” I inquired hesitantly, subtly avoiding Dazai’s eye. 

“What of it?” Dazai said gently. 

“What do you - would it not bother you? They would think I’m your - um, girlfriend,” I uttered unsurely. 

“And?” Dazai asked. 

I snapped and looked up, turning to face him with a sudden boost of courage, “But I’m not -” I looked away for a moment and licked my lips again, before gazing into his eyes, “What are we?” 

Dazai lifted his left hand to stroke my cheek bone as he spoke very sultry, “What you are to me, cannot be defined by a mere label as girlfriend or boyfriend, however if others would like to call us with such terms, I will make no objections for in their brains it is all they understand.”

A small laugh escaped my lips as it settled on an amused grin, Dazai frowned and made motion to move his hand however I caught it in my own, and gave his palm a kiss, moving down to his bandaged wrist, and leaving a soft kiss there, “I wasn’t laughing at your confession, only the way you speak of everyone’s inadequateness like it is a proven fact,” I bit my lip in contemplation before adding, “It is to you though, no? A proven fact.”

Dazai placed his hand on my cheek once again, with soft strokes, “Yes,” His lips turned coi as he added, “You're like a cat.” 

“Am I?” I laughed with raised eyebrows. 

“Oh yes,” He said velvety, with his brows furrowed in a chastising manner, inspecting my face with his eyes, “My cat,” He added, almost unsurely. 

I had realized earlier in my first interactions with Dazai that he was an unstable man. Dazai felt no belonging to anyone nor anything, no connection to the humans around him to ground him to this Earth. He also did not have possessions, things to call his own with no conditions. Everything he was given was also able to be easily taken away, and it made sense that Dazai would live in a shipping container so when he would inevitably lose his things, the loss would be little. 

And the past three days I spent - other than wrapped in his arms and lips - were contemplating the type of man Dazai would be now. I decided that if I were to accept Dazai like he accepted me then I would accept him fully and that meant his odd possessiveness, unsureness, and all other oddities Dazai Osamu carries. 

I would give Dazai myself, in the hopes that if Dazai had something in this world that truly belonged to him, he would start to belong to the world as well. 

I had lost sleep over the matter, and though I would never allow myself to be owned physically and mentally completely, Dazai is the raging inferno that Dante could never describe. If I looked back I would get caught in his fire, and I would burn. If he is Eurydice, I refuse to be Orpheus.

So while I replied with a confident and reassuring, “Your cat,” before I kissed him, it was not without previous mental disputes.

He kissed back but abruptly I pulled away and rested my forehead on his before murmuring, “And you are mine?” I asked. 

Dazai’s eyes opened as he gazed at me. He did not speak for an extended moment. As I was about to pull away  his arm wrapped around my waist grew firm and held me against him, “You have mon coeur ,” He uttered hesitantly, clearly trying to come accept that fact I would only be his if he is mine, and that he needed to admit he was to himself, so I gave him some moments of silence, “My heart, if it exists purely beyond organ functions,” He started not looking at my eyes but down at our intertwined hands, “is yours. My knowledge is yours, my hands,” He tightened his fingers around mine, “are yours. All that I possess is yours if you want it.” Dazai finished as he lifted his gaze to mine. 

And I kissed him. I kissed him as I have kissed no other, and poured every emotion I felt into the kiss. It wasn't a passionate, affectionate kiss, it was hungry. It was hungry, violent, and possessive from both sides, as my hands wrapped around his neck, and I refused to let go even for a moment. We became a tangle of limbs once again, and when I finally pulled back I was breathing heavily onto his lips, “I don’t want to stay at that damned hotel,” I blurted out, “I’m living in Yokohama now. I receive excess salaries from Mori. I’m going to get an apartment, and I want you to stay there with me. There is no pity in this, not because you sleep in a shipping container, only at the fact that it is a shipping container, you make quite enough money to be in a penthouse. I won't demand to know why, nor will I mention it again if you say no, but just, agree.” 

Dazai was breathing rather heavily as well, and I was proud for a moment that I could break his composure, “Seeing me everyday and night will drive you mad,” He warned, “And this is a new thing, it would overwhelm you.” 

I shook my head, “I probably have already gone mad, mad enough to ask you this. And trust me we will both benefit from a proper apartment, living in a hotel is adding to any madness I possess. And if - if I am yours and you are mine and we aren’t boyfriend or girlfriend, then I see no issue.” 

Dazai laughed out loud, his nose nuzzling into my cheek as he spoke into my skin, “You make completely no sense, but seeing as you prefer Hobbes yet favour democracies than this is a very sensible statement.”

“Completely sensible,” I whispered in retort. 

“Absolutely sensible,” Dazai said in another laugh. 

I pulled back enough to see his face in front of mine with an expectant expression, “I’ve never had a home Dazai.” I said, “And I don’t know your past but I know you’ve never had one either. If our bond transcends boyfriends and girlfriends and those pointless and meaningless stages and labels then - just-” As I was trying to find the right words Dazai had cut in. 

“Alright,” He said gently, pushing my hair out of my face and behind me ears, “If it is what you want, who am I to deny you?” 

“No,” I retorted, and at Dazais look of surprise I elaborated, “No this isn't just about me, it is also about what you want. Don’t agree solely on my account, I’ve read enough romance novels to understand that is not healthy.” 

Dazai adjusted our forms, which were slouched over the armchair and sat up. He lifted me to straddle him properly while he played with the tips of my hair. 

“I can't cook,” He admitted. 

“Quite alright I can cook just fine,” I replied. 

“I don’t sleep at night very often,”

It was difficult for Dazai to speak about himself, especially aspects that would leave him vulnerable, and in an encouraging manner I rested my hand on Dazai’s cheek, the one partially covered with his eye bandage and rubbed the skin affectionately. I wouldn’t lie and say that his effort to be truthful and transparent did not make me extremely happy, and feel special. 

“I don’t either, we can stay up together, it's better than being up alone,” I soothed, moving hair off his forehead with my other hand. 

“I drink rather often, stronger liquors.” 

I shook my head again, “That's okay, it doesn't matter.” 

Dazai’s apprehensive expression morphed into a sly grin as he leant forward and caught my hand on his cheek with his own. He took my fingers and lifted them to his lip, kissing the tips before lightly biting on them, “And lastly,” He murmured with his boyish charm that always made Dazai seem his age, “I’m rather insatiable. Will your body be okay with that?” 

I shook my head lightly before letting my pretend irk blend into a humorful expression, “You’ll have to find out,” I said lowly onto his jaw and proceeded to place kisses on it. 

Dazai leaned back, tipping his head to give me more access, “Oh I plan to do so, mon coeur ,”

Chapter Text

The air was stale, the air conditioner buzzing a little too loud though it filled an otherwise awkward silence in the room. Hot tea on the table, a black hat on the coat rack, an incessant fly buzzing around. 

Fidgeting with my fingers to give my restless body something to do, otherwise I’d blurt out an accusation I probably didn’t mean. 

But he would not speak, not first anyway, though he was the one who’d sent me a note to come down to his office, no reason needed to be specified, I already knew why. We’d avoided each other the past week as Ango, with his delectable research skills found Dazai and I an adequate apartment, not overly luxurious where we’d flaunt our wealth, but holding ample space and comfort. 

I’d thrown my attention towards that cause, helping Dazai move his few belongings and buying furniture as Chuuya had thrown himself towards work and raids. I’d asked around (Higuchi and Gin) and learned he’d been working overtime, joining the Black Lizard’s missions when he wasn’t really needed and in a kinda horrible mood. 

So I licked my lips, crossed my arms, and leaned back on the wooden chair, “I just want to know what upset you so suddenly.” 

Chuuya turned to me as if only realizing I was there, with messy ginger hair and emerald eyes that were sunken in, he wasn’t sleeping well, “It's complicated,” He gruffed out. 

“Dazai’s been irritated, though he tries to hide it, it's rather obvious why. And I can’t help but feel I’ve completely ruined something.” I wasn’t usually so forthcoming, but guilt had been weighing on my conscience, that and my complete lack of self-worth, so yes, I would offer this to Chuuya though it’d be to my own detriment, “You and him have been partners for years, and I get it, I’ve come into the equation, got too involved with one of you and didn’t account for the messiness of it,” I swallowed the ball in my throat and kept an even tone, “So if you ask this of me, I will comply with your wishes. Admittedly, I care about the both of you too much and I'm not a very selfish person. If you ask me to un-involve myself with him, if that's what it will take to mend whatever I’ve broken I will. I’ll step back if you say the word.”

His eyes widened as if he’d done something unspeakable, “No,” he said without a beat, shaking his head, “No that's not what I need - He’d kill me - I’d never-” He paused, breathed deeply, “I was shocked,” Chuuya said, “Shocked and I’m quick to anger. It's always been me and Dazai… I apologize for what I’d said in my fit of anger, I don’t think you’re a tramp , or anything.”

I was silent some moments, tapping a finger on the desk before speaking lowly, “You love him.” 

Chuuya turned red, completely blushed and sputtered and shook his head, “Well I -” He turned away bashfully, “Ofcourse I love the bastard -” He turned back to me quickly, “But not in the way you’re thinking! I wouldn’t sleep with him or anything.” 

“It's a platonic love then,” I scooted forward, hesitantly lifted my hand to place over his, when he didn’t snatch his own I gently gripped it, looked at him earnestly, “I promise I won’t ever get in the way of that, I’m sorry for not telling you before you’d barged in, it all happened so fast and I -”

Chuuya placed his other hand over mine, gripped it, “I know,” He soothed, “I know you’d never. There's nothing to forgive,” He paused a moment before adding, a little teasingly. “But if you ever tell Dazai what I’d said-”

“Don’t worry,” I cut him off, “Spare me the gruesome details, I’d fear the world’s safety should he ever hear that.”  

I took a sip of the tea gingerly before adding, “Are we okay?”

Chuuya nodded, a big old smile overtook his face, “Yes,” He said before sighing, “Thank god, I’m so damned tired of working overtime.”

___

The apartment was my first ever home. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that place, in the Minato Mirai area by the harbor and shops, where Dazai and I had come to live under a stable roof for the first time in our lives, on floorboards that could not be taken from us, in an environment that was no longer physically, nor emotionally cold. 

 It had a very open-spaced floor plan, western styled while simultaneously being a cosy, traditional-esque home. A nice, auburn and marble accented kitchen, a large living room with an indigo velvet L-shaped sofa, a dark persian rug, and long floor to ceiling glass windows covered by curtains of white damask. The round dining room with a oval shaped white wooden table and chairs, ensuite bathrooms with a claw tub and shower, and lastly, the bedroom. A mahogany king size bed, tall auburn bookshelf stuffed to the brim, white accented double windows with flowy drapery, a dark soft rug, mahogany nightstands. 

Dazai and I were both into the clustered, walnut look, and we’d filled the home with books and impressionistic paintings, cozy candles and little mirrors. We’d only had it for a week, yet with all the pay I’d received from Mori prior that’d sat in my bank account I wasted no time purchasing whatever I’d wanted. 

It was a very odd feeling at first, and I knew that's why Dazai left me to do it though he was usually a controlling person who’d like to know everything. I didn’t think he could handle it so I didn’t mind, let him go off and buy wine while I flipped through catalogues and went to little antique stores. 

I felt like a little housewife and the thought made me giggle - oh how wrong it was.

Our heist was the next day, and in turn Mori gave Dazai, Chuuya, and I the day off, naturally I’d be inclined to go do something but the feeling of having a home, a grounded place, gave my mind a fuzzy tint and I wanted to sleep in. 

Again, I knew it was too big of an adjustment for Dazai, so when I woke to an empty bed I wasn’t surprised. He’d left a note on the nightstand under a copy of Kafka on the Shore :

Went to Headquarters to finish some paperwork. I'll probably be back around noon. 

Sleep in mon amour, you deserve it.

I smiled, slipped back under the forest green, soft thick duvets and re-awoke probably some hours later. I’d made myself a coffee, marveled at the kitchen that was now mine , smiled that I’d never have to use that shitty communal kitchen with a small fridge and half-broken stove at the Legion headquarters ever again, and padded to the living room. 

The velvet couch was also mine , and it felt good to think that. No one could barge into my space, no one could take it away, no one could come in if I’d locked my door with their own set of keys. 

(Well Dazai could but he also lived here and I trusted him.)

Much later, after I’d gobbled down a sandwich, lay on the couch with a book, and then fell asleep with it, I felt a hand stroking my hair. 

I sighed, exhaled as soft, skillful fingers ran through my roots and massaged the tendrils of my scalp. My eyes fluttered but eventually shut as the menstrations continued. When they paused momentarily some seconds after, unconsciously, I let out a close-mouthed whine.

I heard a sultry, deep, chuckle. “You really are my kitten,”  It said after some moments. 

Yes, if you’d keep stroking my hair, I’ll be your kitten whenever mister.

“Mhm,” I said in response, “Don’t stop.” 

I felt hands lift my scalp momentarily before placing it down again as the cushion under me bounced a little. Dazai had sat on the couch and placed my head on his lap. We both laid vertical and his legs caged me into his form. I could feel him breathe out deeply as he leaned back, heard his back crack a little as he stretched and I wrapped my arms around his waist and nuzzled into his clothed torso. 

“Are you tired?” I asked as his hand stilled on my head. 

“Very,” He replied. 

“Nap with me.” 

I lifted myself up as he scooted down before wrapping his arms around me, and though I’d done nothing that day, when my head laid on his chest, the beating of his heart, as if a lullaby, lulled me to sleep, along with the soft sensations of his fingers running up and down my arm. 

___

We woke when the sun went down, as it bathed the living room in a sea of orange. I watched, still wrapped in his embrace, as the big ball of fire descended between the tall skyscrapers, as the shadow lowered, before it plunged under the sea. The air turned a plethora of colors, purple, pink, orange. 

The white drapes drifted with the wind that blew softly through the opened windows, a little rectangular spot that was able to be unlatched in between the tall, floor to ceiling glass. 

It fluttered through my hair and soothed my skin. Reluctantly, Dazai and I arose and went to the kitchen. I sat myself on the counter as he shifted through the fridge for leftovers. 

“Check the right drawer,” I pointed out to him, “Our neighbor is this little sweet babushka, she brought us some pirozhki and olivier .” 

He retrieved them and placed the tinfoil wrapped plates on the counter by me, before coming to stand in between my legs with a playful grin. The counter was much higher however, and Dazai’s chin resided by my collarbone. 

“You speak Russian?” He asked. 

“No more than you speak French.”

“I speak French fluently.”

I shrugged, “I am the same with Russian.”

Leaned down and I planted a little kiss on his forehead before he turned his attention to the food, unraveling the tinfoil and pulling out some porcelain plates from the cabinet. 

“Have you been to Moscow?” He asked. 

I nodded, “Went a few years back to stop some Soviet insurrection.” 

“Ah,” He said, tipping his head for a moment, “So you killed them all.”

“Basically.” 

We went back to the living room and sat on the two green armchairs that faced each other as we ate, balancing the plates on our crossed legs, as if displaying how young we really were, two little broken children playing house. 

“Tell me about your childhood,” Dazai abruptly said, leaning his head on the cushion. 

“It's not very pleasant,” I replied, “Not proper dinner conversation.”

“Since when have we been proper mon coeur ?” 

The food was all savory and tasty, the babushka no doubt very well-versed in the art of cooking. The candles on the mantle of the fireplace were lit, windows still open and white drapery still fluttering. I shifted in my seat, didn’t look him in the eye as I spoke. 

“My first memories were very young, they aren’t very vivid. I can recall only a little white room, something resembling a hospital room or asylum. It had a cot, a chair I remember that rocked, and some books. Three times a day, someone in a white lab coat would come in and give me food, and that is all I knew, that was my existence. Later, when they gave me more reading material I realized the world is vast though I thought it all a fantasy. 

My next memories come later, maybe 6 or 7. This is when the Legion found me  -” I turned to him momentarily, “I know you’ve been teasing me with the name of my American organization, and you win, I’ve said it, the Allied Legion. His name was Bill, my caretaker, Bill and a lady I despise named Nora. Bill took on a sort of, distant fatherly role. I was told I was rescued, from where? I still do not know, from the blurry faces in lab coats I suppose. In the Legion I was trained by various instructors to be whatever they wanted of me. A spy, an assassin, an escort. Any dirty jobs that no one would take, jobs that needed a very special skill set. For a while there I craved it too, the adrenaline like a drug. Anything to feel . It was also when I became very dependent on alcohol though Nora had found out and banned it, began to drug-test me every other day. I’d tell you who leads the Legion though I haven’t a clue, there’s a very strict hierarchical structure there.”

An owl hooted outside, trees rustled. 

“Tell me more,” Dazai said. 

“Why?” Suddenly, I turned to him. 

“I want to know you.” 

“You do know me.”

Dazai shook his head, pretty hair shagging as the rays of moonlight reflected off of his cheekbones and dark eyes, glowed on his ivory skin, “I know you when you are with me, nothing but bits and pieces of your life before.”

“I could ask the same of you.” 

He was silent for some moments, “I’ll tell you,” He said finally, “Some day.”  

Nodding, I turned to face the antique grandfather clock I placed by the doorway as I decided to confide in Dazai though he admitted he would - or could not do the same. No longer scared was I, of my past bathed in red, or my secrets. He knew them all anyways, if he wanted to know who I was, he would. 

“They sent me to many places, I killed many people in cold blood. Anyone, enemies, bounties, politicians, CEOs, innocents,” I quipped for a moment, “Communists,” before continuing, “After coming back from Russia though I’d changed a little, I resisted them some more. I rather liked the old communists, they held their liquor well and were good chess players. Bill was lenient but Nora didn’t take it, I was punished of course, like they did to me when I was twelve or thirteen, running away to loiter with the homeless kids in the back-alleys of San Francisco. So the mundane aspects of life returned, that year blended in a little, admittedly, I don’t recall much of it. Just that I killed. A Lot. Soon after they handed me a file, I was to go to the port city of Yokohama under the guise of a private investigator to collect information on the Port Mafia… It was, I think, their biggest mistake.” 

His abyss-like eyes stared into mine with an intensity I could not describe, and held out his hand, “That it was,” He agreed. 

I placed my plate on the walnut coffee table before taking his hand. Silently, we padded through the condo, stepping on cold dark wooden floor boards. Once we arrived in our bedroom, Dazai maneuvered me until I stood before the edge of the bed, he gripped my chin and raised my head. 

Dazai had not touched me further, had not reached past the barrier of my inner thighs or hips, though we slept in the same bed. If I’d not felt the way he held or gripped me, I’d think he was celibate. 

His soft breath I could feel on my mouth, his nose millimeters away from my own. Outside, through the open window the sea water sloshed, the moon lit strongly into the bedroom, the clock ticked.

“You said they’d assign you from time to time, to pose as an escort,” Dazai stated in almost a whisper. 

Goosebumps erupted along my skin from the vibrations of his voice that meshed with the cool air, as I stood there, in nothing but a nightgown, gazing up at him, bathed in the moonlight. 

“Yes.”

“How far did it go?”

“No further than the doorway of a bedroom.” 

He shuffled closer to me, until our noses touched and slid his whole palm to engulf my cheek firmly. 

“Have you ever…” Dazai paused for a moment, searched my face as he contemplated how he should continue, but I relieved him of the burden for I knew what he meant. 

Shaking my head, “I’ve never-” 

 He kissed me then, stepped up to me entirely, gripped my face harder, tilted it higher, with his other hand, grabbed my waist and delved towards my lips. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran a hand through his soft hair as he coaxed my mouth open with his tongue, swallowed my whimpers. 

The hand on my hip tightened, his thumb started to stroke my bone through my thin nightdress, I shuddered. 

Dazai stepped forward, forcing me to step back silently as his lips devoured mine, until the back of my knees hit the mattress though he did not stop, with his dominating grip I folded onto the duvet, (h/c) hair around me like a halo as Dazai hovered over me. 

He spoke in between deep kisses, “Is this okay?” He asked, “May I-”

“Yes,” I replied as his hand trailed under the nightdress, his fingers leaving fire and pleasure in their wake, “Please.” 

“So good,” Dazai praised into my ear before leaving a kiss under it that had my body twitching, “So responsive for me, so polite.” 

Dazai abruptly gripped my waist and shifted us upwards until my whole body lay on the bed as his arms and legs caged around me. I could do nothing but take all he gave me as he relentlessly pursued my skin. Laying open mouth kisses down my neck and collarbone, fist tightening in my hair until my neck and spine arched upwards for him, his hands holding down my hip bone in a death-grip. My body was bent to his whims, his mouth ate every moan and whine, held me in between every shudder and twitch. 

I had seldom time to breathe deeply though my chest rose and fell as he trailed kisses down my throat, fisted my hair tighter and bent my neck even uncomfortably, presented it like a blank canvas to him. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have liked it, shouldn’t have surrendered myself to him. But I was always alone, seldom touched, seldom cared for. And the feeling it gave me, of being owned so fully by him, as he held me as if he possessed me, as I gave up any semblance of control - I relished in it. 

He spoke down my throat as his hand stroked my inner thigh, “Will I find you wet?” He asked, “Hhm, if I touch you between your pretty little legs?” 

Surprisingly to myself, I widened my legs as I replied breathlessly, “You’ll have to do it to find out.” 

Abruptly, Dazai bit into my skin, the junction in between my shoulder and neck, “Minx,” He mumbled into the bite as I convulsed momentarily due to the sudden pain, though it mixed in with pleasure as he licked it, added to the coil under my belly. 

He lifted his head, spoke into my lips as his forehead rested on mine, his hand stroked higher into my legs, “Do you want me to touch you there?”

I nodded. 

Whimpered and twitched when his thumb pressed down on my clit, my eyes shut and my mouth fell open. 

Dazai traced his nose down my face, hovered over my cheek, “You’ll have to ask nicely.” 

I could barely form words though his thumb pressed into the nub again and I tightened my grip in his hair, “Please, please…” I mumbled incoherently. 

“No, no, little one,” He soothed, “Ask me in a proper sentence.” 

He pressed again and I started to, on instinct, buck my hips into his hand though he pressed his body down onto mine and stopped me. Whining, I willed my brain to think and lips to move, “Touch- touch me Dazai, please.”

I felt his warm lips kiss my cheeks, then my nose, forehead, and lips, “Good girl,” Dazai said, and it was the only warning I had before his skillful long fingers slipped under my panties. 

He slipped a finger into me continuing to rub my clit with his thumb as I writhed beneath him. The stretch burned a little - I’d been shot before so my pain tolerance was pretty high - but it thrusted in softly. 

I felt the pleasure in my belly and began to buck my hips into his finger as it thrusted in and out. He gave a few seconds before slipping in another one, swallowing my moan with his mouth as we rocked gently. 

I felt so full already though it was only the beginning. All my sensations were given by him, and as if the world had fallen away around us, I could think of nothing else, my brain was blank, a paper only he could write on. 

“You like that?” Dazai asked when we parted, my eyes were shut but his face was close to mine, noses resting beside each other.

I could only nod frantically and buck into his hands, felt the tension deep in my stomach. Every time he applied pressure to my clit I twitched and writhed. The pleasure balanced the pain of his fist, pulling into my hair, my neck and in consequence, arching my back towards him. I could feel it in my toes. Heightened as he spoke filthy things in my ear in that deep, commanding tone of his.

Felt his hand leave my hair to come around to my collarbone, stroke it before pulling my nightgown down until I felt my breast against the cool air, nipples hardened. Dazai’s fingers stroked my breast in little taunts until they circled my nipple, played and pinched it as I writhed beneath. His hand returned to my hair as Dazai brought his mouth close, kissing briefly before sucking my breast. 

“I like you like this (Y/n), so obedient and respectful for once. Hm? Look at you, can’t think, can’t speak, poor thing.”

I shook my head, felt his cheek pressed upon mine, shuddered when he added a third finger. 

“Want to tie you to the bed and keep you like this for me forever, how’d you like that? All wanton and moaning for me, until you can’t imagine a world outside of my fingers and mouth.”

God, I shouldn’t like it, shouldn’t feel more slickness run down my thighs but I do. 

I should run, exclaim he's crazy and get out of here, but I won't, if anything I want to sink into the sheets. 

Open mouthed, silent moans, the muscles in my stomach tight, toes clenched, fingers fisting the bedsheets beside me, eyes shut firmly, rocking into his three fingers that seared into me, thrusting up higher and higher until I could feel it in my throat, feel my body tensed and teetering over the edge. 

“You're so close,” He says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet. My sweet girl.” 

“Please,” I ground out. 

Felt him kiss me again, plunge into my mouth and then kiss my jaw as he continued, “I’ve got you (Y/n).

Shivered at my name from his mouth. His fingers bent inside me

“I have you, come for me mon amour. ”

Saw white in my vision, my muscles convulsed impossibly tight until the dam broke, until I shook and twitched as I started to breath once again, as my hands no longer had the energy to hold onto the sheets and fell limp beside me. 

I could do nothing but graciously accept his help as Dazai continued to gently thrust in and out, ride me through the orgasm. He continued to rock into me though my hips fell with no energy to buck. Scarcely aware of anything else. I felt him kiss all over my face, my lips too yet chastely.

Felt his fingers slip away and I missed the feeling of them. My eyelids fluttered open a little and all I could see was his blurry form in the dark as it left the mattress and stood by the bed. I wanted to call for him back but before I mustered the resolve to he was there, a towel in his hands, drying away fluids from my thighs. 

I  heard the rustling of clothing as Dazai changed, felt his warm presence next to me when he pulled us under the covers. 

Barely conscious I rested my head on his chest before mumbling, “What about you?”

He’d given me all the pleasure and taken none for himself. 

“I’m fine my sweet,” He said quietly, fingers running down my spine, “I’d be taking advantage should we go any further, go to sleep.”

“But you-”

He shushed me with a kiss, “You should be more conscious to do anything further, sleep.” 

It was the last sensation I felt before slumber overtook me.