Chapter Text
‘Lonely is the heart of people.’
Verbatim, those were his words when he inquired about a suitable title for his literary work. It was indeed, an appropriate line. Subtle yet mysterious. The simplicity of a few chained words, a thread in a tapestry, weaving together to bring a rich and intricate story to life with nothing more than a pen and a piece of paper; a wonderful conception. However, the notion that his comrade had conceived a title so exquisitely melancholic did prompt a brief intermission in his thoughts. Whilst it should not have raised any suspicion upon Ango’s mind, the mafioso, unable to refrain from observation, keenly discerned the tenuous alterations that had taken hold of his companion over the preceding months.
“Ango.” A voice, unvarying in tone yet imbued with a profound wellspring of emotion, reached his attentive ears.
“Ah, you’re back, Chuuya.”
Ango Sakaguchi, a man shrouded in mystery and concealed truths, a bearer of precious knowledge, an operative within the realm of the casino managements. Beside him was a towering figure, adorned with fiery tresses and clad in an extended russet overcoat. His name was Sakunosuke Odasaku. An odd individual that not even someone in possession of such wit and keen perception like Chuuya, a Mafia Executive, could read. And neither could Ango.
“Thank you.” Ango endeavored to shape his most convincing smile, all while striving to maintain an air of normalcy. Nonetheless, his attempt was only rewarded with a disconcerted glare.
“You alright?”
Now it was Ango, who threw a perplexed gaze back to the other.
“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because -“, Chuuya stopped, his voice breaking as if a thorn of thought had pierced through his words, “…nevermind.”
Given Ango’s uncertainty regarding an appropriate response, he redirected his attention towards his other companion, opting to observe him instead. As every other night, only a simple, almost dreamy smile rested on Odasaku’s face.
“He looks stressed, doesn’t he?” The older man noted. “Just like you.”
Ango let out a sigh, a disapproving shake of his head following the other’s remark. The phrase was far from unfamiliar to him, evident in the dark circles beneath his eyes, plainly visible through his transparent glasses.
“I’m fine, really. Though, you do look more stressed than usual, Chuuya. Did something happen?” The oscillating shade in his voice had shifted into a worried one, perhaps even with a hidden curiosity as he waited patiently for the petite ginger’s mind to form the usual wave of troubles, only to let the upcoming atrocities engulf the very essence of his soul. If he was completely honest, Ango did not mind. Times like these always evoked an unparalleled feeling, which served as an effective and tolerable way of distraction from his monotone work. While he and Odasaku had by far passed the title of ‘acquaintances’, they only met the temperamental youngster a few weeks ago. Back then, it was the trail of coincidence that had intertwined their fates, a simple job offer which required the assistance of the Mafia Executive. Approximately one week had passed since that fateful day.
“Have you ever heard of a guy called Osamu Dazai?” Ango's gaze subtly expanded, the instant that well-known name grazed the periphery of his hearing. It was as if shards of glass had been rigorously pierced through every layer of skin on his back. Of course he knew Dazai. He possessed an excess of knowledge regarding this individual, far beyond his desires. However, both his occupation and his compass of conduct inhibited his mind from revealing every shard of his broken mirror of reality.
“I’ve heard rumors about him. He’s the man who has an unbeatable streak at the Blackjack table, right?”
“Unbeatable streak my ass, he’s cheating.”
The temptation to refrain from stating "No, he isn't" proved exceedingly difficult to withstand now.
“You think he is? How so?”
“There’s gotta be a trick he’s using. Nobody can just guess the right cards every single fucking time. That’s impossible.”
Ango only smiled.
“And how are you planning on finding out about his tricks?”
The resounding thud as Chuuya placed his glass firmly upon the table, its contents diminished by half, sent an involuntary shiver coursing through Ango's frame.
“I’ll follow him around the casino until he lets his guard down. And when I know his secrets I’m gonna expose him and his dirty little cheats in front of everyone and humiliate him that way!”
A single pivot to his right unveiled Odasaku's conciliatory smile to his searching gaze. Evidently, Odasaku harbored parallel contemplations to those of Ango, which came as no astonishment, considering he held the esteemed position of being Dazai's dearest confidant. Chuuya on the other hand did not seem to register their little exchange of thoughts.
“He’s quite enthusiastic about this mission, isn’t he?” Odasaku gently said with a smile, his head swaying in response.
“Indeed, what an interesting plan. Are you sure you’re not acting against your boss’ orders by doing so? As far as I recall, your task was to keep an eye on him while he’s playing, not while he’s doing anything else.” Although, gazing into Chuuya's eyes at that moment, a notion stirred within Ango's thoughts. The likelihood that this young fellow harbored emotions beyond mere curiosity and suspicion appeared rather significant. Ango’s own expression softened a little as he came to a secret conclusion.
For a while, none of the three said a word. The noisy cloud of chattery around them served its purpose of entertainment, added with a sprinkle of alcohol and time seemed to transform into a spiraling madness. Like a radio, information was unveiled and laid bare without filtration.
“Is that a new perfume? My, my, where do you get the money from…?”
“Long time no see old friend! Care for a round of Poker? Like the old days, am I right…?”
“Have you heard of that mysterious murder a week ago? It looked like an accident, but…”
“Who’s the man who seems to win every blackjack game?! Is he cheating or magically gifted…?”
The ceaseless, bustling cacophony began to lull Ango into drowsiness. Oda, too, appeared fatigued, while Chuuya simply exhibited the countenance of inebriation. The moon had long passed its golden age, leaving the stage for the graceful entrance of its partner role, the sun. Much like the vanishing of the moon's radiance, the patrons also departed the casino, returning to their ordinary daily pursuits. Olive peepers slowly found their way through the transparent glasses until they found their destination. Odasaku’s peaceful smile seemed to be less vibrant than usual this time. Ango pondered whether something troubled him. The man opened his mouth to give his thoughts a voice, but stopped due to a sudden overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. A dark cloud had appeared in his horizon, giving birth to thousands of new shadows that started crawling up his spine, giving him the feeling that something was not right. It reminded him of that dream he kept having, in which he was sitting on a strange field in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by hundreds of yellow dahlias. A sudden storm proceeded to twist and turn his world, summoning dark little creatures rising from the shadows. Ango had a vivid recollection of how their razor-sharp claws traced a path along his neckline, as if voraciously navigating through his flesh, akin to a hook. They would not stop and continue until…
“Ango! Oi, Ango!”
Chuuya's abrupt and resounding cry jolted him out of his distressing reverie.
“You hear me? The hell are you doing?”
It wasn’t until now that Ango had realized how he had been weirdly staring at his glass for god knows how long.
“Ah, sorry. How long have I been out?”
“Longer than me, that’s for sure. I even sobered up. What the fuck were you dreaming about?”
Ango blinked repeatedly, endeavoring to assimilate the deluge of information he had just received. Did he fall victim to the wrath of a tired man’s needs? It was atypical for him to slumber for such an extended duration, not to mention experiencing sleep at all. Chuuya’s gentle laughter distracted him from this troubling question.
“Actually, this is less concerning than the times you’ve said you didn’t get any sleep at all.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. It’s obviously worse to fall asleep without wanting to.”
“Whatever. Just make sure to pay before you leave.”
“Right…”
Ango released a weary sigh before scanning his surroundings in search of his other comrade. To his surprise, Odasaku was nowhere to be found. “What time is it?”
“Almost two in the morning. We’re closing in half an hour. Shit, I’m gonna get scolded for sleeping in on the job…” The younger one of the two rose from his seat, fingers wrapping around his now empty wine glass. Heavy eyelids, embracing the dim light of the bar while forcefully being held above sapphire gazes - Ango could tell that Chuuya was in need of rest.
“Alright. I’ll take my leave then. I still have some work to take care of anyway.”
“Hold on, you’re already working again?”
A furrow etched itself upon Chuuya's countenance—an expression that confounded Ango. Why did he wear such an earnest expression? It wasn't the initial instance Ango had shared the burden of his workload with him, in fact it should have occurred ever so often that it had become part of his personality. Before Ango could interject with his query, Chuuya proceeded with his discourse.
“I didn’t think you’d go back to your usual daily routine after y’know… the last mission that got you kicked out of the Mafia and almost made you land on our Wanted list if it weren’t for Odasaku.”
Ah. That’s what he was talking about. The occurrence from a week past, a recollection that Ango preferred to banish from his mind entirely. It had nearly culminated in Odasaku's demise, and the guilt of potential betrayal weighed heavily on him, implicating not only himself but also all those associated with the Mafia.
“I’m impressed you managed to get back on track on your own.”
“Ah, I wasn’t on my own at all. Honestly, I wouldn’t have made it without Odasaku’s help.”
In an instant, Chuuya's countenance transformed into a blend of a searching, apprehensive gaze and a disconcerted yet mournful furrow. His eyes spoke volumes, signaling that something was amiss.
“That’s why I asked if you were alright earlier…”
Ango couldn't fathom the reason, but the moment he discerned the tenor of Chuuya's voice, an icy chill coursed down his spine, while his stomach somersaulted, inducing a sudden and profound feeling of nausea. Lights, shadows, the people around him - it all seemed to melt into one big gray mess. In the depths of his hearing receptions, there was the sound of a ticking clock. Tick tack, tick tack, tick tack. In an instant, every one of his senses abruptly ceased to function. With each tick , his heart teetered on the brink of surrender, and with each tack , his mind disintegrated until there remained nothing of his former self.
“What do you mean, Chuuya…?”
“...”
A set of hazel eyes remained fixated on the diminutive mafioso as Ango impatiently anticipated his elucidation.
“He’s not here with us anymore. Odasaku’s dead.”
“Have you heard of that mysterious murder a week ago? It looked like an accident, but…”
“... it has been confirmed that it was Sakaguchi Ango, who killed him.”