Chapter Text
The pit of dread that had previously formed in Junichiro's stomach had only deepened as he leant against the unfamiliar tree, disoriented.
It took him multiple fast paced blinks to regain his vision, for the darkness and the lingering red hue to fade away. Once he regained one sense, the others were quick to follow.
His ears were ringing, blood dripping onto his shoulder from one of his now-irritated piercings.
The pain came soon after, his ear inflicted with an annoying sting; and his face felt as if it had been burned.
And it could have been, for all he knew.
But what plagued him more than the pain was the temperature. It was baltic; and if you asked Junichiro, he'd say that the temperatures were sub zero and he was about to contract frostbite.
His sense of taste returned next; he noticed the prominent metallic tang of blood from a split lip.
His hearing was the final sense to return, and the eerie silence of the forest did nothing to ease his nerves. He only heard his own laboured breathing and the rustling of leaves in the wind.
Where was he? Yokohama didn’t have any forests like this as far as he knew. Maybe there was some forestry on the city’s outskirts he wasn’t aware of. And he was just sent a few kilometres in that direction. Hopefully.
Junichiro scanned the area around him, in an attempt to see if any of his belongings had come on the journey with him. He was disheartened when there was nothing to be found but shrubbery for as far as the eye could see. But when he looked down at his hands in his lap; he noticed the bag strap running down his torso. He was almost embarrassed that he didn’t check for anything on his person in the first place.
His bag was mostly intact, though it was quite dirty with a tear here and there. His pins fortunately managed to survive the unusual journey, and his eyes landed on the pin Naomi made him in her school’s library a few weeks ago. It was a small, not the best quality, pixelated image of the Agency. You would only be able to tell who was who if you knew them well.
Junichiro had only been away from home for five minutes, and he already felt extremely lonely.
His loneliness only increased as he continued to stare at the image of his found family. The President, who took him in when he had nowhere else to go. Kunikida, who took him under his wing and taught him what he knew. And Dazai, the polar opposite of Kunikida, who cared for his partner, despite all the bickering. And Ranpo, who bullied him with kind undertones, Yosano with motherly advice. Atsushi, his best friend. Kyouka and Kenji who he’s always viewed as his younger siblings. And Naomi; despite the Agency’s belief that they’re related, Junichiro cares for her like his sister, despite the lack of blood ties.
Oh, he would die for any one of them.
He would kill for any one of them.
And he was nothing without them.
Junichiro took a deep breath before making an attempt to stand up, but he had to ease himself back down. The nausea was too much for him.
He sat there for five more minutes, wallowing in despair. His thoughts were racing at a million kilometres a second, what on earth happened to him?
He took another few seconds to further analyse the area around him, not yet rising to his feet because he would certainly begin to puke his guts out.
Trees, trees, and more trees. Oh, and a bush. What a great detective Junichiro was.
Why couldn’t he have been blessed with the gift of Ultra Deduction like Ranpo?
Maybe he should try thinking like Ranpo a go.
What would Ranpo do first?
…
Ok this wasn’t going to work. The first thing that Ranpo would do was solve the case.
Hm.
What would… Dazai do? No, Junichiro had no idea how that mystery of a man’s mind worked.
What would Kunikida do in this situation?
Review the facts, probably.
Well, he knew for a fact that he was A) in a forest he didn’t recognise, B) in a lot of pain and C), had no idea how he got there.
Well, that wasn’t much to work with. But he would have to make the best of what he had.
Next… review possibilities?
It was possible that he walked here…. and forgot…. about it…?
Cop on, Junichiro, you’re not that bad of a detective!
He threw his head back in exasperation, only to slam his head into the tree that he was leaning against.
“Shit.” He hissed, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his head.
When suddenly, it dawned on him.
Where he was before this.
It wasn’t a case of amnesia, and him aimlessly wandering into this forest. He moved to rub his temples as his head pulsed in pain.
That’s right. He was on a case, for the Agency. And one of field work, this time, instead of his usual murder-solving or your run-of the mill errands.
He cast his gaze to his left, where a small glass object glinted in the sunlight.
A syringe.
Junichiro remembered holding that syringe up to Kageyama’s neck, poised to strike. But with that, he remembered his epic failure caused by his foolish hesitation. He remembers the flash of light that forced his eyelids shut; and the sheer intensity of it burning into his corneas. He remembers being unable to breathe, and feeling as if God himself had gripped his soul and was yanking it out of his body until the last cord tethering him to Earth snapped.
Kageyama’s ability. Of course. There was a reason that it was in the Agency’s best interests to get the man off of the streets. And the responsibility to do so was given to him, and he failed miserably. More people were likely in danger because of him, and the government was bound to be giving the Agency hell for this, and because of who?
Because of him.
Junichiro’s self-pitying was cut short by the snap of a twig breaking the eerie silence. Which, in turn, made the resumption of the silence even eerier in comparison.
It wasn’t the snap of a twig that would occur naturally, and the heavy footsteps that followed confirmed his hypothesis. He took a deep breath.
He didn't think that he was seriously injured, nothing was broken- he knew that much- but his head hurt like hell and he was struggling to keep his non-existent breakfast down.
Junichiro’s breath caught in his throat as he heard another, louder, snap of a twig in the not-so-far-off distance. There was no way that it was on an animal; the sheer sound of it suggested that something much larger was traipsing through these woods.
The gradually approaching footsteps were too heavy for common forest animals, but too light for a bear.
Junichiro leaned forward, trying to peer around the tree; his nausea surging with the movement.
Maybe it was a person? He should feel some kind of relief at the presence of civilisation. He could get help. But… Something felt… off.
The pit of dread in his stomach deepened as an eerie humming filled his ears.
He needed to get off his ass. Now.
Junichiro scrambled to get a grip on the bark of the tree, his fingers dragging down the surface as he hurried to push himself up.
As he struggled to stand, a dense fog had crept in. It was so thick that he had to strain his eyes to see through it, which only worsened his throbbing headache.
“H-hello?” He called into the fog.
And right on cue, a girl of about twelve stepped out of the mist. Well, not exactly. It appeared to be more like the mist parted for her. Subconsciously, Junichiro’s hand moved to hover over the gun at his hip.
“Hey, are you-”
“I’m lost. Can you help me find my mother?” The girl recited, as if it was a practiced routine.
“I’m really scared.”
The girls face matched her words; worried and scared, but that wasn’t enough for Junichiro to trust her just yet. Her body language matched too, with her hands scrunched up in her kimono. But that wasn’t enough either.
Why?
Her voice was monotone. Not a single drop of emotion bled into her tone. You’d swear that she was blindly rattling off a script.
He took a step back.
“Are you hurt at all?”
The girl’s face soured, her brow furrowing.
“I’m scared. Help me find my mother.”
The fog seemed to thicken, swirling around him and tickling his ankles as he stumbled back a little further.
There was something wrong with this kid. It was probably quite rude of him to think so, but it was true. If it were anyone else, he’d already have his gun drawn in warning, but this was a little girl. Albeit, an unsettling one.
The girl began to take careful steps forward, and as she approached, her appearance began to… change. Or maybe she always looked like this, he wouldn’t know.
Her eyes gleamed silver, and scleras darkened. Herskin paled, and nails sharpened.
Junichiro’s brain screamed at him to run, but his stupid legs stood their ground.
“Are you an ability user?!”
The fog thickened even more.
“If you’re losing control of it I- I know people who can help!” He clumsily rummaged through the front pocket of his bag to find the business cards that Kunikida had insisted he carried on him.
“We’re the Armed Detective Agency-”
When Junichiro looked back up, the girl wasn’t where he last saw her.
She was right in front of him, in all her monstrous glory.
“Why must you be so difficult?” She inquired, her expression now as bland as her tone.
It was a reasonable question, and he was a detective , for God’s sake! Reuniting a mother and daughter should be a piece of cake for him! He shouldn’t be so put off by this girl’s appearance, he wasn’t usually so discriminatory regarding people’s abilities-
“I don’t mean to be, sorry, I’ll try my best to hELP” He cut his sentence off with a yelp as the girl leapt on top of him, baring her fangs-
Wait, fangs?!
Junichiro’s head slammed into the earth, and his headache came running back at full force.
“Shit-” Junichiro grunted through a gag ; he definitely wound up with a concussion due to this entire ordeal.
The girl seemed to possess an otherworldly strength as she pinned him to the ground, a hand gripping his head to keep him in place. He kicked against her and pushed her shoulders but to no avail- she held her ground. A deep growl rumbled from her throat and drool slowly dripped from her open mouth.
He tried to sit up- the urge to vomit banished by adrenaline- and what was his plan?
To restrain the child before she ended up hurting herself or, the more likely option at the moment, him. It was in moments like these that he cursed his utterly useless combat ability. Light Snow was no use at all when his opponent was in close quarters, knew where he was and was right on top of him.
His head dug into the dirt as he tried to keep some delusion of distance between him and his attacker. She began to lunge for his throat with the aim of ripping it out, and Junichiro was still hesitating! He quickly brought his arm up to block what could have been a fatal blow.
Blood now mixed with the drool that was dripping onto both his shirt and face.
Any semblance of hesitancy flew out the window as teeth clamped into his forearm, and if he didn’t act soon he’d end up with a chunk of his arm going missing.
With his free hand he scrambled to free his gun from the holster.
He pressed it to the girls head
And
He fired.
The gunshot sounded, the echo reverberating throughout the entire forest. Blood and brain matter flew everywhere, and Junichiro’s attire was stained even further; but not as much as it stained his conscience.
He just killed a child.
A rather violent child, sure, but a child nonetheless!
A child who was likely having difficulty controlling her ability, which was something that he could relate to.
And… and he had shot her.
He let his arm drop to his side and tried to shuffle away, when he thought he saw the body move.
Which was normal, he knew, some bodies made minute movements shortly after death but… this one was moving a lot more minutely.
Little veins had sprouted from her jaw, and fibres of muscle and skin soon followed, intertwining as all the components knitted together and the girl’s face regained its previous appearance.
Though there was one difference. She was angry.
She scattered back a bit, on all fours. Her back was arched, much like a frightened cat that was now on edge.
“What the fuck was that?!” She hissed, her eyes dead set on the smoking gun in Junichiro's hand. She stared and stared with her cat-like eyes, her gaze flicking between him and his gun.
Junichiro opened his mouth to reply, but only a small squeak came out. He could do nothing but sit there, bleeding, nauseated and petrified.
The girl's blood had since evaporated, her brain matter disappearing; and she was now uninjured, stalking him as a predator would its prey.
No.
Scrap the metaphor.
She was a predator that was stalking her prey.
Him.
He raised the gun once more, preparing to fire. But this time, he hesitated. He lost a precious moment that he couldn't afford to lose. Since the girl now knew what to expect when the trigger was pulled, she leapt into action.
The second she moved an inch, Junichiro activated Light Snow. Its particles floated around him before they merged into the background. He was now hidden.
Visually.
With a rush of adrenaline he scrambled to his feet kicking up dirt and weed as he did so.
But. He may be hidden visually.
But not audibly.
Like a fool, he fled with his back turned to the beast.
And, tracking the sound of his clumsy footsteps and laboured breathing, she pounced, dragging her claws down his back, bringing him to the ground once more.
She had him pinned by his back, her claws digging into his skin and tearing through his shirt. He peered around, and with her eyes still set on the gun, snatched it from his grasp and cast it aside.
Was there any point in fighting anymore? He couldn’t beat this girl, this thing.
She was in a hunger-fueled frenzy, so talking would be futile.
He should just stop struggling, and save himself from a painful death.
The girl, content with Junichiro’s loss of hope, grabbed his arm; and prepared to feast.
But out of the blue, the fog began to disperse.
A sudden breeze began to blow; and the fog didn’t drift away as it would if the circumstances were normal.
Odd. This was a complete shift in the weather. The air had been still just twenty minutes prior, and the weather forecast predicted clear skies. But then again, he mightn’t even be in Yokohama anymore.
He blinked furiously to banish those thoughts from his mind. He shouldn’t be pondering the weather in his final moments. He should be remembering his sister, his best friend, his family, that mafioso that he never stood a chance with-
The wind picked up.
Hurried footsteps followed.
The girl, seemingly knowing that this meant something while he didn’t, decided that right then was the perfect time to dig in.
Her mouth moved to hover over Junichiro’s neck, her breath heavy on his skin…
Aaaaaaaaaaand now was a good time to resume thinking about his family-
His thought was cut short when a man leapt out of the trees, with what appeared to be a sword of some kind in his hands. As he moved, strokes and swirls of various shades of green, white and silver flowed from the blade; subconsciously, Junichiro knew what it was… But his thoughts weren't coherent enough to put a finger on it.
Moving as fast as the wind, the man sprinted towards him before raising his sword and swinging the blade in the blink Of an eye.
Junichiro heard the girl gasp, before he felt something fall onto and then roll off his back.
With trembling hands, he pushed himself upwards, and looked to his right-
And saw the girl's head.
The girl’s no longer attached to her body head.
Which was bawling and disintegrating.
Junichiro didn't blame her. He wanted to bawl, too.
He sat up, the rest of the girl's body sliding off him. He made the mistake of looking back, and- oh God that's her spiiiine-
He quickly shifted his gaze elsewhere, opting to look up at his saviour.
It was a white haired man- it's hair a shade a tad lighter than Atsushi's- with scars marring his face and on-display chest. He appeared to be in some kind of uniform, his katana looking perfectly at home on his side.
The man looked down at Junichiro, frowning as he saw him staring.
“The hell are you looking at?” He barked.
His voice.
It was familiar. And now that Junichiro thought about it, so was his face. And the scars that crossed his face. He had seen them before. He'd seen them just this morning.
“Sanehiro?!’ Junichiro gasped, hearing the desperation in his voice; but not caring. A small smile crept onto his face. His friend was here. Acting differently, sure, but he was here and now he didn't have to worry!
‘Sanehiro’ leaned back, as if disgusted by Junichiro’s pathetic state.
“Who the fuck is Sanehiro?” Apparently-not-Sanehiro hissed.
“Now listen, I just saved you from getting your brains getting ripped out. I don't want you to make me deal with your emotional shit.”
Junichiro's s smile fell, and his lip quivered. This… wasn’t Sanehiro? But.. the two looked so alike! If this wasn’t Sanehiro; he could be his twin.
As tears bubbled up and threatened to spill over; ‘Sanehiro’s expression changed. It didn’t soften, no, it just lost some of its disgust as his eyes raked over Junichiro’s dishevelled and slumped form; examining him intensely.
“...hey, brat. How old’re you?”
“Eighteen…” Junichiro sniffed.
“Eighteen?” ‘Sanehiro’ repeated, the disgust in his expression swiftly returning. “You’re pretty much a grown man, so get off your ass!”
Junichiro did get off his ass- after another moment of staring at ‘Sanehiro’. He stood up as steadily as he could on shaky legs.
As he stood up, he could feel the judgmental eyes of ‘Sanehiro’ boring into him. Likely because of his clothing that was practically torn to shreds.
The two stood there for a few seconds. Junichiro, tired, shaking and bleeding. ‘Sanehiro’, impatient, staring and leering.
“Well-”
“Your sword- what’s your- What was that?” Junichiro’s mind failed to filter his thoughts to find the most relevant question; so his mouth was left to do its job.
‘Sanehiro’ placed a hand on his hip, just above his sword. He appeared to be entirely unsympathetic to the blubbering boy in front of him; and Junichiro couldn’t help but dislike him for it. When someone’s upset after a traumatic experience, you show them some sympathy! And maybe make them some tea, though where would you plug in a kettle in this forest… Anyway, that’s just the basic social convention!
“W-why did you kill her?!”
“It was a demon.” ‘Sanehiro’ stated, as if it was a normal thing to say.
Junichiro flinched once the word ‘demon’ was uttered. Ge knew that there was a stigma around abilities and their users; he had attended high school, after all. Even if you weren’t super strong and could break shit, people were still intimidated, and feeling inferior. And you know what teenagers can do when they’re feeling inferior.
But… Wasn’t it a bit inhumane to call someone a ‘demon’ because of their ability? Even if they tried to eat someone and looked less than human…
“She’s just- just a kid!”
Junichiro went to gaze upon the body, but found that it was no longer there.
‘Sanehiro’ stepped forward, and pointed at a rapidly shrinking pile of dust.
“That hasn’t been a kid nor human in decades.”
What.
Sorry, what.
Junichiro clasped a shaky hand over his mouth, yet again staring at ‘Sanehiro’ with wide eyes. Not human. Last time he checked, the world he knew didn’t have humanoid creatures that feasted on flesh. But the wounds he bore said differently.
“Is it… an ability?”
Immortality abilities were uncommon, but not impossible. This guy could’ve just gotten mixed up, and was like, crazy religious and considered abilities demonic.
‘Sanehiro’ furrowed his brow. “The fuck’s an ability? Demons are man-eating creatures that-”
Though Junichiro had really ought to have listened to ‘Sanehiro’s rant of annoyance, but he had gotten an epiphany.
He wasn’t at home. He wasn’t at home. He wasn’t at home, he wasn’t at home, he wasn’t at home-
He wasn’t in Yokohama. If Yokohama even existed here.
Arataka Kageyama’s ability could transcend time and space.
Junichiro’s time and space didn’t have demons.
The bite marks on his arms weren’t inflicted by a creature from his world.
A really bad feeling stirred in Junichiro’s stomach-
Wait.
No.
It was just the urge to throw up.
‘Sanehiro’ had been waving a hand in front of Junichiro’s unseeing gaze when Junichiro snapped back to reality.
And he promptly keeled over and vomited on ‘Sanehiro’s shoes.