Chapter Text
It was cold, excruciatingly cold.
It was the cold that dug deep and bit into one's bones. It wasn't the type to be compared to the chilled air of Winter, but rather the crispiness that often accompanied loneliness. Within the depths of his cell, there was little to no sound echoing throughout. A dry cold - there didn't seem to be any moisture in the air. The lack of any sort of external body heat didn't help the intensity that was felt within his cell.
Not only did the cold terminate his want to move, he rendered himself useless as he sat on the hard floor of tarmac. The government spared every last expense they had in their possession to make sure that Dazai's stay in this Hell hole would make him already feel like he was in Hell. That much was very certain. He was given the bare necessities of his room: a steel bed parked in the corner, an unsanitary toilet, and twice a-day-meals. His clothes were merely striped in black and white, and while it fit him well, it made him feel out of place.
Though, this is exactly where he belonged.
Bars had him jailed and kept from the world, from fighting against the forces he once stood with over a pact. He would consider this atonement for his plethora of crimes had fallen on Dazai. Arrested for murder, felonies, and other atrocities. His arms trapped by metal to prevent any sort of escape - things he could easily break through if guilt for his sins hadn't coated him like the bubonic plague.
But it had.
Crime and Punishment. Except his punishment had yet to be decided.
If someone has asked Dazai if he would subject himself to a life in prison, he would say, without a doubt but with a grin of mischievousness clouding his doe eyes, "Oh, I would find a way to kill myself successfully before that ever became a problem~!" It was true that guilt kept him stationary, unable to will himself to leave, but his statement would hold true to his current predicament. He couldn't blame anyone but himself for the situation he was in, especially since, in the end, it was a necessity for the overall victory of those he almost considered family. Given the ongoing circumstances that were circulating around what had been approximately two weeks ago prior (if his calculations had been proven to be correct), Dazai knew he could not allow all of the Armed Detective Agency reside in the same area. Then they would certainly all fall to the same unfortunate fate.
He would take fault if that were the case. Dazai had certainly been responsible for many crimes; be they murder, forgery, theft, taking illegal drugs, and so on and so forth.
He knew one day he would be caught, even with the knowledge that Sakaguchi Ango had erased his history and created fake records. Even though he joined the side of good, the side that saves people, he knew he would fall victim to his own crimes. Life was full of karma of the sort.
And so, as he had been expecting for upwards to five years, and even more if you counted when he was in the Port Mafia itself, Dazai Osamu did get caught for his crimes. While some others in his situation would be aggravated, or agitated, he knew it was for the best, and that when it was over (if it wasn't already), someone would come bail him out of jail.
But until that point, he permitted himself to wait.
He had had enough faith in his comrades, even in his enemies at the Port Mafia, that they could defeat Dostoyevsky without him. He had the small hope that Atsushi and Akutagawa would soon be able to pair up with themselves if need be. If the remaining Guild members would allow themselves to team up with them too, like he knew that Poe had done, he considered that a bonus. He had faith in all of their Abilities.
After all, Dostoyevsky, the Rats in the House of the Dead, or even the Decay of Angels, did not have access to the two things that could easily bring the destruction the entire organization, and especially their leader ultimately craved so. Those two things were The Book and Nakahara Chuuya. There had been little to no information surrounding the location of The Book, but obviously, since he could still feel the numbing buzz of No Longer Human coursing through his veins, The Book that Dostoyevsky was willing to destroy the entirety of Yokohama, if not Japan as a whole, for was not yet in his possession. Such was a very good thing, and Dazai knew many would agree on that.
The location of Nakahara Chuuya, however, was indeed known. At least, known to Dazai.
Dazai had a history with Dostoyevsky. Unfortunately, that experience allowed him insight to guess the motives, with accuracy, that Dostoyevsky, otherwise known as the demon, possessed. The demon also possessed almost as much tactical knowledge as Dazai himself. With the given knowledge surrounding Dostoyevsky's Ability, Dazai had no doubt that if he did gain control of Chuuya, the strongest aspect of Chuuya's Ability (that may not even be considered a true Ability), informally known as Corruption, would be used. The former Mafia Executive was one of the few people who had witnessed Corruption's wrath and had lived to tell the tale. It was a frighteningly spectacular amount of power stored in that body of Chuuya's. In the past, and even in recent times, Dazai was taxed with the job of deactivating Corruption with swift touch - something only Dazai could do. Oftentimes, he would find himself almost being caught and obliterated by gravitrons when trying to save his partner from succumbing to a demon worse than Dazai's own mind.
Dazai may bit be a responsible person, but he would be the definition of capricious if he allowed such dark power to fall into the hands of someone like Dostoyevsky, He couldn't comply to such happenings. Especially with Chuuya being his ex-partner. Chuuya's location was known, and that was one of the many things Dazai took absolute confidence in.
After all, the thing that kept him safe was a plan composed by Dazai himself, with a small amount of help from Ranpo. For almost six weeks, Dazai had to keep one thing out of his hair of worry, and that was that Chuuya was safely out of reach by any enemy. Chuuya, thanks to the help of Edogawa Ranpo, and Edgar Allan Poe was stuck in a book written by Poe himself. Thanks to Poe's Ability, Black Cat in the Rue Morgue, Poe could draw anyone into a book that he wrote, and trap him in it.
After what had happened in the battle against the Guild, with the information given by Ranpo, Yosano, and Poe, Dazai became well aware of the ex-Guild member's Ability. At the time, he thought in time that Ability would come in handy. And he was indeed correct in his assumptions of that. With Poe having left the Guild, it gave Dazai the opportunity to utilize it to his advantage.
Dazai, about six weeks prior, had contacted Ranpo with his plans for Chuuya and the book. Dazai was aware that Ranpo had strong connections to Poe, and after some negotiating, the plan to keep Chuuya in the book started to play out with ease. Dazai was aware that Chuuya would not go into the book easily. And one could not simply describe the reason why he was put in the book for safe keeping, because it was evident that Chuuya would deny it, saying "I wouldn't let Dosto-whatever-the-fuck his name is to gain control of me!"
It was wished that that wasn't the case, but it just was. It was undeniable the fact that, even if Chuuya believed that wholeheartedly, whatever Chuuya would try to do to fight against Dostoyevsky if the time came, it would result in his defeat. This wasn't only true for Chuuya; it would be true for anyone who Dostoyevsky decided to take control of. He just needed to seclude the most powerful man he knew.
While he had trust in Chuuya, he needed to make sure that that wasn't ever to occur. He wanted to protect both Chuuya and Yokohama.
Arguably, he wanted to protect what Chuuya loved, because Chuuya loved Yokohama as much as, if not more than, the Port Mafia.
Both, after all, were his home, where he loyalty lived and breathed, and where, in the end, it would die.
~~~
Six Weeks Prior
The endless ringing was driving Dazai absolutely insane. A phone had been in his hands, and fingers had typed away numbers of an individual's phone he would only ring on absolute emergencies. The ringing was going on repeatedly, and was a drag on both nerves and patience, seeing as it meant he had to wait. Dazai was not exactly known for being a patient man, but he wasn't impatient either. One word which would describe him better would definitely be 'selfish'. When it came to planning for victory, however, while not rushed, he would set the label of strict on time. This day, in particular, he was impatient. The reason for impatience remained as the fact that Dazai knew they may not have time to hide their most valuable weapon if they did not hurry the fuck up.
Dazai was impatient, and it caused him to have growing anxiety the longer the time drew on. His fingers started crushing the phone as he held back noise and allowed himself to calm down as best as he could. He entertained himself by occasionally glancing around the Agency's entrance. At the time, he was the only one there, as it had been late. He would be eternally grateful for that fact.
When he heard the line on the other end pick up, Dazai couldn't withhold a sigh of almost relief from escaping his lips. He would never admit to his desperation that came with the occasion.
"Hello!" the voice on the other side of the phone chimed in, cheerfully.
"Ranpo-san! I'm so glad you picked up! Liiiisten, is there a favour you could do for me?" Dazai questioned, eagerly awaiting a reply from Ranpo, the one he had called; he was slightly dependant on Ranpo, at least at that particular second.
"Ah, Dazai-kun! Hmmm, you sound desperate. What is it?" Ranpo inquired, and Dazai knew that Ranpo didn't even need to ask to know. Ranpo was indeed intelligent enough to put things together with the least amount of information possible. It was almost impossible to keep anything from him. Ranpo had come across as nonchalant about it, regardless of the evident displeasure set as the undertone of Dazai's voice.
"Come on, Ranpo-san, you probably already know. But, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and tell you anyway," Dazai started, sighing as he went to continue, "Well, I need help trapping Nakahara Chuuya somewhere. And it needs to be done because if Dostoyevsky gets ahold of Chuuya and his Ability, and I know he will if this isn't done, he could destroy Yokohama." His reason had certainly been justifiable, but for some reason, he knew it wouldn't convince Ranpo to help him.
"Okay, and this affects me how?"
Dazai had known that would be the snarky reply he would get.
"Ranpo-san, this will help not only the Director but also the Agency. Don't forget that the Director is currently very sick, and dying. If you help me, you’ll help everyone.”
Ranpo made a sound of disapproval, and Dazai could essentially feel the look of disappointment framing Ranpo’s face.
A hand flew up to Dazai’s own, and he facepalmed in light of Ranpo’s utter stupidity in regards to the situation. He couldn’t blame Ranpo, not in the slightest, anyway. Knowing how he was, it just made sense. Dazai came up the one idea that would convince Ranpo to help him in his endeavours to save Yokohama.
There was only one thing Dazai knew Ranpo couldn’t resist.
“You know, if Yokohama is destroyed, and the Director dies, no more candy will ever be given to you again! There will be none left!”
Dazai was aware this wasn’t exactly the most truthful statement he had ever said in his life. What he had neglected to say was that if Yokohama was destroyed, Ranpo himself would also be destroyed. However, at that point, he knew that he had the senior detective hooked on a verdict as to what he craved.
“Okaaaay, now, tell me what you want, Dazai-kun~!”
Dazai got him just where he wanted him.
~~~
Now
Chuuya, who was trapped in the book to be kept from Dostoyevsky, was Dazai’s. There was no other way to describe it other than the fact that he belonged to Dazai. Even with all of the horrendous things the former executive had done in the past – upon meeting each other, Dazai had orchestrated a plan that forced Chuuya to join sides with the Port Mafia outside of his own will. In spite of the fact that Dazai left Chuuya and the Mafia, he still viewed Chuuya as his property. Chuuya had been his for years. When they had met at age fifteen, the moment they shared eye contact, Dazai had made that decision.
Dazai could not let his property be damaged by a demon such as Dostoyevsky, more than it already had been, that is. All that had been done to his co-workers counted as damage in his eyes.
With what he assumed happened at the Armed Detective Agency; with what Dostoyevsky had set as fates for Mori and Fukuzawa; with Dazai himself being shot with a sniper, Dazai absolutely couldn’t risk any more destruction.
And damage would have been dealt.
Jail had been proving to be a rough go, and anxiety ate away at him as time struck by.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The sound echoed throughout his jail cell.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
It continued, almost cycling Dazai into a trance of sorts.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Those did not sound like the clicking of a clock.
He heard a smack against the side of the bars, which caused Dazai’s head to snap up. What he saw wasn’t something he would expect – especially while awaiting judgement for his numerous crimes.
Before him stood a police officer. The officer was not one that had an exceeding amount of height under his belt but was rather short, and Dazai caught a minute glimpse of striking red hair under the hat that adorned the top of his head. The hat, unsurprisingly, matched the blue hue of mixed sea colours that were the officer’s eyes. Not only did it match that, but it matched the entirety of the attire the officer wore as well. In the dark of the cell, it was hard to make out all of the features that one would usually be able to make out, but Dazai knew he could.
The confirmation came with the flashy leather gloves, luscious curves, and the snarky smile that flickered upon the bare minimum light in the cell. All it took was a split second with this knowledge seeping into Dazai’s brain for anger to flare up rapidly within his system. Not only had he been caught off guard, but his whole plan failed.
He couldn’t let something as stupid as frustration get to him.
A shaky breath was inhaled as a Cheshire smile grew its way onto Dazai’s face, a shine of mischief floating in the air between the two men as he clicked his tongue, feigning amusement. They shared a nod of acknowledgement before the officer lifted his head, revealing the identity of himself that Dazai already knew.
And he knew the individual knew as well.
Dazai snickered, dropping his head.
“Greetings, partner.”
"Hello, Dazai."