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Kunikida felt like his life was a bit unfair.
Not all parts of his life. He had a good upbringing. He was set to become a math teacher and had already started teaching students as part of his training. His Ability was useful and didn’t give him any ill effects.
But he got hurt. A lot. And not because he was doing anything risky or dangerous.
The incidents started when he was eight. The injuries weren’t particularly dangerous, and sometimes there were no injuries at all, but rather phantom pains. His parents thought that he must be anxious. And that was true--Kunikida felt anxious very often. But that wasn’t the cause of the pain.
The answer came when he was sixteen, and he collapsed in the middle of dinner writhing in pain. When it was finished, he felt completely drained. His muscles ached. It felt like his bones ached. His mother said that he’d started bleeding from his nose, and bruises had appeared all over his body. But when they took him to the doctor, nothing was wrong.
The doctor suggested that perhaps the pain Kunikida felt came from his soulmate.
Soulmates were a strange thing. Not everyone had one, but most people did. Because of the nature of the connection, everyone had differing experiences. A soulmate felt their counterpart’s pain, and if the cause of pain was severe enough, could even get hurt themselves with a ghost of the same injury. Most people didn’t get hurt often, so most people weren’t particularly affected by the pain of their soulmate. That also made soulmates hard to figure out, and some people never did.
The doctor couldn’t determine what kind of injury had caused Kunikida’s all-encompassing pain and the bruising. Kunikida was smart for his age, but he too couldn’t come up with an explanation. He’d felt like he was dying from the inside out. He didn’t know if one could feel their soulmate die, but he realized that his soulmate had survived when a few weeks later, he had a stabbing pain in his arm that couldn’t be explained by anything going on where he was.
Kunikida felt extremely unlucky that his soulmate got injured so often. He was angry. He wanted to find this person and tell them to be more careful, because they weren’t the only one getting hurt.
The most concerning part was the pain that seemed to light every part of his body on fire, the kind that made him feel like he was dying. It happened again and again. The fastest time between episodes was three weeks. Most of the episodes were over a month apart from each other. Kunikida wondered if his soulmate had some sort of disease.
And then, when Kunikida was 18, they stopped.
There were still other pains, but the episodes were gone. Kunikida joined the Armed Detective Agency and dropped his career as a math teacher because helping people with the Agency would be more satisfying. He could save people. He could enact his ideals, which he’d been forming ever since he was old enough to know what an ideal was.
He could only hope his soulmate fit into those ideals.
*
Life at the Agency was as normal as life in that kind of job could be until their newest member, Atsushi, found his soulmate.
“This can’t be true,” Atsushi said, his voice muffled because he was resting his head on his desk. “There must be a mistake! I can’t--I can’t be his soulmate!”
“Soulmates don’t have to love each other or be in any kind of relationship really,” Dazai said. He looked thoughtful. “Although I have to say, you two complement each other. I’m not surprised.”
Atsushi raised his head to look at Dazai in horror. “You should be!”
“What’s so bad about it?” Dazai asked, even though he’d made his opinion of Atsushi’s soulmate clear. It wasn’t good. “You work well together.”
“I hate working with him,” Atsushi said. “He doesn’t even call me by my real name. It’s ‘jinko this’ and can I really be soulmates with someone who doesn’t want to use my name? I can’t be linked to him forever!”
“He’s in the Port Mafia,” Kunikida added. “Moreover, he doesn’t want to leave the Port Mafia.”
“That is a problem,” Dazai said, “but I’m sure it’s not the first time something like that has happened. The Mafia is a huge organization after all.”
Atsushi stared at him. “That doesn’t help me.”
Dazai’s expression went distant for a moment. Then he said, “Atsushi-kun, did he make you feel a lot of pain?”
“Yes,” Atsushi said, “but at least I’ve given him a lot, too. But if I hadn’t, he would’ve been ruining my life!”
Dazai made a noise to show that he’d heard but offered no response. Atsushi looked at Kunikida. “What should i do?”
“Perhaps it’s best if you try to ignore this.”
“I can’t,” Atsushi said. “It literally hurts.”
“I know,” Kunikida said. And he did.
Atsushi gave him a curious look. “Do you know who yours is, Kunikida-san?”
Kunikida shook his head. “I don’t, but they live a life full of pain.” And as time went on, Kunikida had the increasing suspicion that his soulmate wasn’t the sort of person in the sort of career that Kunikida would approve of.
Atsushi sighed and rested his head on his desk again.
Anyone in the Port Mafia certainly led a violent life.
Kunikida hoped his soulmate had nothing to do with that.
Maybe it was a disease. Maybe.
*
“Kunikida-san is hurt!”
He’d had four years without the unbearable pain. Then he’d collapsed in the office while Dazai was on a mission. He couldn’t stop himself from screaming.
Yosano had dragged him into the infirmary. Eventually he stopped screaming, but he was covered in bruises and sore and so, so exhausted. She seemed to know immediately that this was caused by a soulmate, but she, like his old doctor, couldn’t figure out what had caused that kind of pain.
Then Dazai came back and Atsushi led him to the infirmary.
Dazai’s eyes widened when he saw Kunikida before he masked the surprise with a neutral expression.
“So you’re saying this happened while I was out? And now it’s stopped?”
Kunikida nodded.
“Let me see your arm,” Dazai said.
Kunikida rolled up his sleeves. As expected his arms were bruised, though the worst of the bruises covered his hands and wrists. It would make it hard for him to write, but they had faded quickly in the past.
Dazai frowned.
“Do you know something?” Kunikida asked. “Have you seen this type of injury before?”
Dazai dropped his hand. “It’s very strange. And a tragedy! You won’t be able to write!”
“Dazai!”
Dazai glanced at Yosano. “Well, maybe it won’t last long. But you shouldn’t go into the field while you can’t use your Ability unless Yosano can fix it.”
“I can’t get rid of bruises without almost killing you,” Yosano said to Kunikida. “Which I would, but I think that’s something you don’t want to put yourself through unnecessarily.”
“I’ve dealt with it before,” Kunikida said.
Everyone looked surprised at that.
“I’ve never seen this happen to you,” Yosano said.
“It hasn’t happened recently,” Kunikida said. “The last time was four years ago.”
“How strange,” Dazai said. “Well, I’m going to sleep. I think I’ve earned it after all my hard work.”
Kunikida opened his mouth to say something but noticed that Dazai’s face was scraped and bruised, and his lips were crusted in dried blood. He nodded instead, and Dazai left.
He wasn’t looking forward to this happening more often, but he had a sinking feeling that it would.
*
The next incident happened at the most inconvenient time.
Yokohama had almost been destroyed by a man called Shibusawa. Kunikida was fighting his own Ability, which had shot him, and had been attempting to hold off another attack by using increasingly larger weapons. But he was running out of weapons.
And then he collapsed.
Somehow, his Ability didn’t attack him. Maybe it also sensed that something was wrong, and was incapacitated. Kunikida could only be thankful as the searing pain raged on, peaked, and then dulled again.
Was it a coincidence that his soulmate happened to have this sort of attack on a night when every Ability user in Yokohama was fighting for their lives?
His soulmate might not even live in Yokohama, but the coincidence was too big to ignore. Kunikida started to walk towards the heart of the destruction, mindless of toll it took. The gunshot wound in his side ached, everything now ached, and he was exhausted, but he needed to find out who he was dealing with.
Kunikida had spent too many years forming the idea of a perfect romantic partner in his head. He had a list of requirements that, soulmate or not, the other person would have to fulfill. Dazai called him unrealistic. Kunikida simply didn’t want his life to fall into disorganized chaos.
Downtown Yokohama had almost been reduced to rubble. A few buildings were gone and the streets were impassable. Kunikida dragged himself forward as the fog previously surrounding the city cleared, leaving him feeling a bit more secure. His Ability wouldn’t come back to attack him. He felt it as it usually was, part of him and ready to be called when he needed it.
There were huge chunks of concrete wedged in the road, which meant that Kunikida didn’t have a clear line of sight at any time. He drew his gun and peered around corners, trying not to get ambushed. Though the fog had lifted, he didn’t know what kind of people were out there, or if there were remnants of the fight still going on.
He rounded another corner and saw a figure propped up against a slab of building.
He didn’t lower his gun because he recognized the man.
“Nakahara Chuuya,” he said.
Nakahara’s clothes were torn, his skin bruised in some places and covered in dried blood in others. He didn’t make a move to stand. He only tilted his head up so that he could see Kunikida better.
“You can put the gun down,” Nakahara said, his voice slightly hoarse. “The fight’s over.”
Kunikida narrowed his eyes. “And what was your part in the fight?”
Nakahara grinned. “The winning part.”
“Is this,” he gestured to Nakahara, “the result of fighting your Ability.”
Nakahara laughed, which turned into a cough. “No. My Ability never got separated from me. You probably wouldn’t believe this, but the government called me in to help take care of this problem.”
“I don’t believe you,” Kunikida said.
“You know that dragon that appeared? It’s gone because I got rid of it with my Ability.”
“You’re lying.”
“Ask Dazai if you don’t believe me,” Nakahara said.
Kunikida was surprised that Nakahara hadn’t made a move. “You’re really injured?”
“I can’t move,” Nakahara said. “I was gonna wait for someone to come along. Preferably Mafia, since I don’t think anyone from the Agency would be too excited about helping a Mafia Executive.”
“You said to ask Dazai,” Kunikida said. “He was with you?”
“He was,” Nakahara said, “but I’m guessing he left to find you guys. I don’t know. I passed out and woke up and was here.” He didn’t seem too concerned about it, although there was a hint of irritation in his voice.
Kunikida couldn’t just leave him there. Mafia or not, it wasn’t good form to leave someone in need of assistance behind. Especially if Nakahara had helped with the fight, if what he’d said was true.
“I’ll help you,” he said. “But the second you try anything, I won’t hesitate to leave you behind.”
“I won’t,” Nakahara said.
Kunikida holstered his gun and approached Nakahara, whose eyes slid from his face to the wound in his side.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Gunshot wound,” Kunikida said, “but I took care of it. My Ability attacked me.”
Nakahara’s face paled. “What’s wrong with your arms?”
Kunikida had almost forgotten that. The bruises on his arms and hands were visible, but not as noticeable as the gunshot wound. “Not sure. It just happened not too long ago.”
“That’s…shit.”
Kunikida stopped in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
Nakahara shook his head. “Nothing. The...gunshot wound...that sounds rough.”
“I didn’t think a Mafia Executive would be so squeamish,” Kunikida said, kneeling down.
“I’m not,” Nakahara said.
Kunikida went to help Nakahara up but paused. Nakahara’s hands and forearms were exposed, his clothing torn away, and where there weren’t dried patches of blood clinging to the skin, Kunikida could see bruises.
Without thinking, he picked up Nakahara’s left arm by the wrist to examine the bruises closely. They were the same as the ones covering Kunikida’s own arms.
Suddenly, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He should have been able to pull himself together, but he stumbled backwards instead. Somehow, he ended up running until he ran into Atsushi, Kyouka, and Dazai.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Kunikida-kun,” Dazai commented.
Kunikida didn’t even think to question Dazai about his disappearance. “I found my soulmate.”
Dazai didn’t look surprised, which somehow made things worse. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
Kunikida stared at him. “You knew who it was.”
“Let’s get back to the Agency and get you treated,” Dazai said. “And me. I’ve been stabbed and it’s pretty unpleasant. And then we can have a talk.”
*
Yosano forced Kunikida and Dazai to stay in the infirmary. It didn’t seem like anyone would be getting sleep anytime soon, which meant that they could talk.
“When did you know?” Kunikida asked. “Was it the first time I had that...episode?”
Dazai nodded. “There’s only one thing I’ve ever seen cause that. I always felt sorry for Chuuya’s soulmate. We used Corruption a lot, and I didn’t think it would be pleasant for the other person. Now I know it was excruciating.”
“Hang on,” Kunikida said, trying to process Dazai’s words. “Corruption? Is that his Ability?”
Dazai waved his hand. “Sort of? His Ability is called For the Tainted Sorrow. It’s gravity manipulation. But he can activate a more powerful part of his Ability, which we call Corruption, that gives him almost complete control of the gravitons around him. He can make projectiles as dense as black holes that will destroy anything in their path. He can pretty much crush anything with his bare hands. He destroyed an entire city block in less than a minute.”
“That’s what he used tonight,” Kunikida said. “And when you went to retrieve Q.”
Dazai nodded. “He can’t control that part of his Ability at all, and he can’t stop it. If I wasn’t around to nullify it, he’d die, because it destroys his body, too.”
Kunikida felt the color drain from his face. No wonder he felt like he was dying when Nakahara used it. And with an Ability like that, the Port Mafia could destroy everything. Except…
“You being on the side of the Agency prevents the Port Mafia from using it as they please,” Kunikida said.
“Yup. Pretty good for us, right?” Dazai sighed. “Not that it’s Chuuya’s first choice in most situations. Unfortunately he’s perfectly capable without it--he’s the best the Port Mafia has. Even without Corruption he could destroy the Agency if he wanted to.”
“And he’s my soulmate.” Kunikida had a bitter taste in his mouth.
“I hope you like hats,” Dazai muttered.
Kunikida glared at him. “Dazai.”
“Pain aside, you don’t need to have anything to do with him,” Dazai said.
“He knows,” Kunikida said. “I could tell he’d figured it out.”
“You two are actually pretty similar,” Dazai said. “It’s funny that you were both my partners.”
“What?”
Dazai smiled. “He has an ideal too. It just happens to serve the wrong side.”
“I don’t believe you,” Kunikida said.
“Why would I say that about him?” Dazai asked. His smile dropped. “Things don’t always turn out how they should. Maybe it won’t turn out terribly.”
“Like it turned out for Atsushi?” Kunikida snapped.
“Nothing bad has happened to Atsushi,” Dazai said. “Or, nothing irreversibly bad has happened to him. He and Akutagawa are learning to work together without killing each other.”
“How encouraging,” Kunikida muttered.
“Things aren’t good or bad,” Dazai said. “That’s why our organizations can work together. That said, I would be careful. You need to know exactly what you want before moving forward, because it is a risk to be with someone from the Port Mafia.”
“I want to forget this ever happened,” Kunikida said.
“You can want anything except that, Kunikida-kun,” Dazai said. “Talk to him. If you don’t, he’ll find you. He’s not the sort of person to just let things be.”
Kunikida could tell from the annoyed tone of Dazai’s voice that he was telling the truth.
“Fine. But I don’t know how to contact him.”
Dazai grinned. “How lucky it is that I have his number!”
*
A week later, they met in a public park in the middle of the day in neutral territory.
Nakahara had arrived first. Kunikida found him sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree. He looked better than he had the last time they saw each other. Kunikida noticed that he’d covered his hands with black gloves.
Nakahara didn’t stand up to greet him. Kunikida sat down, perched on the other end of the bench.
“I would rather forget this whole thing,” Kunikida said.
“That’s gonna be difficult,” Nakahara said. “I plan on getting shot at least once per month.”
“What?”
Nakahara laughed. “I’m kidding. Bullets don’t work on me-”
“What?”
“- but it’s not gonna be easy for you anyway. I’m sure I’ll use Corruption again, which I’m sure that bastard Dazai explained to you. Even if we never talked, and I don’t see how since our organizations seem to run into each other a lot, you would still have reminders of what we are to each other.”
“But we wouldn’t have to be more than that,” Kunikida said. “You’re not telling me you want this.”
Nakahara looked thoughtful. “I usually know what I want,” he said, “but this is one of the few times where I can’t say for sure. But do you know?”
Kunikida wanted to say that he did. But he faltered. “You...you’re not part of my ideal.”
Nakahara’s lips twitched. “I heard you’re a guy with a lot of...morals and shit like that. But what are these ideals that you keep talking about?”
Kunikida pulled out his notebook and showed it to Nakahara. “My Ability allows me to create things from the pages of this notebook. I can write something on the page and as long as I know how it’s made and as long as it’s not larger than this notebook, the page will turn into that object.”
“I see,” Nakahara said. “Your notebook says ‘ideal’ on the cover.”
“This notebook is not only for the use of my Ability,” Kunikida said. “With an Ability like mine, what I write can literally become reality. And so, when I write my ideals, how I would like to live my life and what I want to abide by, I expect to make it a reality as my Ability does.”
“Alright,” Nakahara said. “So you want to live by the standards you’ve set for yourself. Which are…?”
“I want to save people with the least amount of casualties. None, if I can help it,” Kunikida said. “I don’t want to compromise my beliefs in carrying out my job. I can’t...I won’t resort to questionable tactics to get the desired result.”
“What if questionable tactics are your only option?” Nakahara asked.
“There’s always another way,” Kunikida said.
“Sometimes the good way leads to more casualties,” Nakahara said.
“I try to make it so that doesn’t happen,” Kunikida said.
“Good fucking luck,” Nakahara said. “At some point that’s not gonna work for you.”
“What do you know?” Kunikida said. “I don’t expect that sort of thing to matter to the Port Mafia. Casualties don’t mean a thing to you. People are just pawns-”
“Stop,” Nakahara said, his voice hard. Kunikida felt the words die in his throat. “What exactly were you told about me?”
Kunikida hesitated. “Dazai told me about Corruption.”
“What else?”
“He...told me that...we were similar,” Kunikida said.
“Do you know what he meant by that?” Nakahara asked.
“No,” Kunikida said, “because he didn’t explain it.” That wasn’t entirely true, but saying that they both had ideals and not elaborating further didn’t help Kunikida understand. “Do you know?”
“You have a sort of code that you live by,” Nakahara said. “So do I. I don’t like casualties either. I don’t want to lose any of my people. The difference between you and I is that I’m willing to do terrible things to make sure that doesn’t happen, and if it does, I’m willing to do terrible things to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”
Kunikida knew what he meant. Nakahara would kill those not in the Port Mafia to protect the Port Mafia. Or he would do worse.
“Why?” Kunikida asked.
“I’ve promised to protect the Port Mafia with my life,” Nakahara said. “The lives of anyone who cross us are forfeited the moment they decide to mess with us.”
“But why?”
“Why what?” Nakahara asked. “Why does the Port Mafia deal with their enemies by killing or hurting them? Why do I do that? Or are you asking why I’m loyal to the Port Mafia?”
Kunikida could guess that Nakahara’s upbringing, like Dazai’s, had some part to play in how he dealt with things. So he said, “the last one.”
Nakahara hesitated. “When I was younger,” he said after a moment, “before I joined the Port Mafia, I had promised to protect another group. I took it as my responsibility to protect them because of my powerful Ability, and in turn they took me in despite not knowing anything about me. That put a lot on my shoulders, and I didn’t handle it well. They felt betrayed when I started pursuing something personal, and they depended on me too much, and that put them in danger.”
Kunikida listened. He could assume that this was another criminal organization, though Nakahara would have been very young.
“They rightly...kicked me out,” Nakahara said. “I ended up joining the Port Mafia in order to learn how to do better, how to properly give my life for another purpose and protect the people I care about. The Port Mafia was there at the time, and our relationship was complicated, but I thought that with them I could fulfill my purpose.”
“And their methods don’t bother you?” Kunikida asked. “You find some of those people worth protecting?”
“The Agency is full of former criminals,” Nakahara said. “I can’t say I like everyone in the Mafia, but I care about the organization overall, and about most of the people in it. Joining the Port Mafia is a commitment, and not one to be made lightly. You give your life to the organization, and if people are doing that, I can respect them for it, and I’ll protect them. Giving your life to something doesn’t mean dying for it. I wouldn’t want them to.”
“But other lives don’t matter,” Kunikida said.
“You can’t always have everyone survive,” Nakahara snapped. “Sometimes to save a life you have to take someone else’s. Sometimes you need to take someone else’s life because otherwise they’d take yours, or the life of someone who matters to you. I know that even the Agency can’t avoid death. It’s not that simple.”
“That isn’t how I want to live,” Kunikida said.
“But it is how you’ll live,” Nakahara said. “I’m sure Dazai’s told you the same thing. He’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s not a complete idiot, and he definitely wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about something like this.”
Dazai had said similar things to Kunikida, but Kunikida had a hard time taking what he’d said to heart as well.
“Let’s be honest,” Nakahara said. “You wouldn’t even consider having anything with me because of what I’ve done, but I’ve done it for reasons you can probably understand. I hate to say this, but Dazai was right when he said we’re similar.”
Kunikida should have been horrified at the thought, and maybe a few months ago he would have been, but hearing Nakahara talk so frankly about his beliefs and what drove him made him think. It was one thing to hear Dazai talk about things not being black and white even when strong ideals were in play, and it was another to see someone who embodied that concept.
If Nakahara hadn’t explained any of this, Kunikida was sure that he’d find Nakahara confusing after seeing Nakahara in action. After all, his expectations were that the Mafia didn’t care about anyone, not outside of the organization and not each other. They were ruthless and cold, in his view. They had no code to hold themselves to. That was what he’d thought. But he knew Nakahara wasn’t lying.
This went against his ideal, in theory. But it also complimented it. Somehow that was more stressful than having it be just one way or the other, and Kunikida could practically hear Dazai telling him that this was how the world worked no matter what Kunikida wanted to believe.
Nakahara didn’t believe that Kunikida would want anything to do with him, and Kunikida couldn’t really say that he was wrong. He had a lot of issues with Nakahara being his soulmate. But for all that Nakahara knew about Kunikida’s internal crisis, Kunikida didn’t know what Nakahara thought about how they were linked to each other.
“What do you think about soulmates?” Kunikida asked.
Nakahara sighed. “I think they’re a pain in the ass,” he said, “literally. Although, I’m sure it’s been way worse for you. I didn’t know about them until two years ago, actually. And I can’t say it’s changed the way I live my life. I’m not exactly desperate for your approval. But I still don’t like being judged by someone who doesn’t bother to understand where I’m coming from.”
That was...fair. “You don’t feel like you need someone like that?”
“I don’t know,” Nakahara said. “I’ve never thought about it. I know soulmates are people who...I mean they’re the kind of person that the other person needs in their life. It doesn’t have to be romantic, or anything like that, but…” He trailed off.
Kunikida hadn’t thought of it like that. He’d been thinking in terms of a romantic partner even if he knew that wasn’t how all soulmates worked. Most people jumped to the idea of a romantic partner.
He realized the implications of what Nakahara was saying. The idea that Kunikida needed Nakahara in his life somehow was even harder to believe. Nakahara was a criminal. Despite his reasoning, he wasn’t a good person. Kunikida strived to be a good person, and he didn’t need to be dragged down.
“I can’t do this,” he said.
Nakahara shrugged. “That’s fine.” Kunikida started to stand, but Nakahara added, “Let me ask you something.”
Kunikida sat down again. “What?”
“Is Dazai good for you?”
It was an odd question. Kunikida’s initial reaction was to say no, but he thought about it. As much as Dazai annoyed him, as much as they disagreed, as much as Dazai challenged his ideals and even broke them, Kunikida had never emerged worse off than he’d been before.
“Yes,” Kunikida said. “He’s a good partner, even if he’s a pain.”
Nakahara nodded.
“Why?” Kunikida asked.
Nakahara gave him a thin smile. “If you can’t figure it out, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you.”
He left, and Kunikida found himself sitting on the bench for a while longer. Nakahara hadn’t sounded upset. He’d sounded annoyed. Like he’d wanted Kunikida to figure it out for himself.
And maybe Kunikida knew what Nakahara was talking about. But he still needed to talk to Dazai first.
*
“Kunikida-kun, I’m flattered that you think I’m good for you!” Dazai’s smile was a bit too wide, which told Kunikida that Dazai would hold this over his head forever.
“I didn’t come to talk about you,” Kunikida said. Dazai sat perched on the edge of the couch in the Agency office. Kunikida couldn’t sit. He was pacing. “I need to know what Nakahara meant by that. You know him.”
“‘Is Dazai good for you?’” Dazai said slowly. “Chuuya is smarter than I give him credit for, but that’s probably the only insightful thing he’ll say all year.”
“Dazai,” Kunikida growled.
Dazai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Kunikida-kun, what if I told you that you’re good for me? Would you believe me?”
“Yes,” Kunikida said. “You clearly need a positive influence in your life.”
Dazai blinked. “Right. So do you believe the opposite is true?”
“Yes,” Kunikida said. “I told you that.”
Dazai hummed. “Why?”
“Is this just to flatter your ego?” Kunikida asked.
“No,” Dazai said. “It’s a genuine question. Trust me, it’ll help.”
Kunikida was suspicious. “I don’t know how.”
Dazai straightened up. “Let’s put it this way: I used to be in the Port Mafia. I was Chuuya’s partner. If I wasn’t killing people, I was directing him to kill them. I killed people for my own selfish benefit at times even when it wasn’t necessary. I used those deaths to try to make myself feel something. I was called the demon prodigy for a reason. I only cared about one person.”
Kunikida was familiar with why Dazai had left the Mafia. It had taken two years and a lot of arguments for them to trust each other enough for Dazai to tell him. And Dazai didn’t like to talk about it. So Kunikida was wondering why Dazai brought up his past now.
“I shouldn’t be good for you,” Dazai continued. “Even if I’m on the side that saves people, I’ll never be an ideal person. That’s not how my mind works. I’m in the grey area. I’ll let people die if it saves other people, because not everyone can live. I’ll make difficult decisions that might not be the most moral ones. I won’t try to hide from you how ugly the world can be. Especially in what we do.”
Those words sounded familiar. Like Nakahara’s.
“But,” Dazai said, tilting his head to look up at Kunikida, “I’m good for you. That’s what you think.”
Kunikida couldn’t find anything to say. Dazai was good for him. He and Dazai worked well together. Dazai challenged him, and he realized that he needed that. But Kunikida could help Dazai, too. As much as Dazai tried to make Kunikida see that sometimes things were more complicated than good and evil, or everyone living and everyone dying, Kunikida also showed Dazai how to care about other people, how to do the right thing even if it was the harder choice. He showed Dazai what a good person could be.
“You’re trying to be a good person,” he said finally. “Don’t you think that’s better than being in the Mafia?”
“It is better,” Dazai said. “It’s better for me. It’s still hard. I get that it looks like the difference between Chuuya and I is that I’m trying to be better. But so is Chuuya.”
“What?”
“Chuuya joined the Mafia to better himself,” Dazai said. “I didn’t join the Mafia to do that. I joined it for selfish reasons. You could even say I joined the Agency for selfish reasons. I’m learning how to care more about others, but it’s difficult. It’s hard not to use people, or to not be selfish. You’re part of why I haven’t slipped back into my old ways, and I’m part of why you don’t break down every time something doesn’t go to plan.”
“What are you saying?” Kunikida asked.
“Chuuya has always cared about people,” Dazai said. “It’s almost a weakness in the Mafia, but he’s used it to move forward. He’s always felt it’s his responsibility to protect those around him, and that’s what he’s doing. He’s more like you than I am in that sense. I don’t feel that sense of responsibility and I never have. When I do, it isn’t as strong as Chuuya’s. So,” Dazai smiled. “If I’m good for you, then the hatrack can be too.”
“You told me to be careful about getting myself involved with someone in the Mafia,” Kunikida pointed out.
“I did,” Dazai sighed, “but Chuuya brought up a good point. I hate how the hatrack makes sense sometimes. It’s troublesome. I’m sure you find it troublesome now that I’ve explained all this to you.”
Kunikida did find it troublesome. It was more than troublesome. It was a borderline crisis.
“Kunikida-kun,” Dazai said. “Chuuya will never leave the Mafia and you won’t leave the Agency. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be good for each other.” He glanced down at his hands, resting in his lap. “The Mafia life does things to people. You can keep him from going off the deep end.”
He stood up, stretching.
“Dazai,” Kunikida started.
“I’m tired,” Dazai said, yawning. “That’s all the advice you’re getting out of me for a month. And you owe me dinner. And a drink. Such good advice can’t be free, you know.” He winked, and walked away.
Kunikida sank onto the couch.
Life seemed intent on challenging him in every way.
*
“I think I know what you meant now,” Kunikida said when he saw Nakahara again.
Nakahara asked to meet in a bar when Kunikida messaged him, with the reasoning “we might both need a drink or ten after this.”
Kunikida didn’t use alcohol to deal with his feelings, but he could admit to possibly needing to relax.
Nakahara raised an eyebrow. “What did I mean?”
“If Dazai can be good for me, you can, too,” Kunikida said.
“Yup.” Nakahara took a sip of his wine. “Do you believe that?”
“First I have a question,” Kunikida said. “Do you think I can be good for you?”
“You’re a good person,” Nakahara said, “and you’re not involved in all the shit that the Mafia does and I think I need someone who isn’t…” He frowned. “I need someone to show me that things aren’t shit all the time, that they can be better, you know?”
Kunikida nodded. “You’re not angry?”
“I was a bit pissed off,” Nakahara said, “but I got over it. I should’ve expected something like that, given what you do and what I do. I figured I had to be a bit more realistic.”
“You’re not the only one,” Kunikida admitted.
“So?” Nakahara asked. “Your answer? I want to get to know you, and it’s not like we have to get married or anything.”
Kunikida choked on his water.
Nakahara laughed. Kunikida found he liked the sound of Nakahara’s laughter--it was genuine and carefree. Nakahara didn’t hold back his emotions, Kunikida realized. Not like Dazai did. He was more open and honest, and possibly, though Dazai hadn’t said, more trusting.
Nakahara feeling more of a sense of responsibility for whoever put their trust in him than Dazai, and up until this point that was what Kunikida assumed to be the main difference between them. But it wasn’t. While Dazai was guarded, Nakahara was willing to give more of himself to others, and to take more risks with his emotions. Kunikida did well with honesty and openness no matter who it came from, and Nakahara could offer him those things.
Those were things Kunikida needed that had nothing to do with which side Nakahara was on, and it was those qualities that would probably allow him and Nakahara’s relationship, whatever it would be, to not fall apart. There was so much about their relationship that could cause conflict, but if one of them tried to avoid it, the other would meet it head-on. They could support each other like that.
Kunikida could actually see it working.
Nakahara was waiting for an answer.
Kunikida offered him a slight smile. “I believe it. And...I’d like to try to have something with you.”