Chapter Text
I’ll be honest with you: I rarely find things interesting. By things, I mean anything, today’s events, people I encounter, work… the list goes on and on. I’m not quite sure when this profound disinterest in everything even sprouted, but it was always clear to me that its cause may make me sound extremely egotistic and proud to commoners and ability users alike. I’m surprised none of my co-workers even pointed out this bizarre blooming of my excessive pride, usually arising after successful missions. As fate would have it, it takes an enemy to realise your own imperfections… And he voiced them that night—without truly meaning to— as unambiguously as one could get.
~·~
Agile steps, with almost no resonance, caught into a hot chase atop the numerous harbour sheds. I’d point out that the moon was out by now, high and mighty, but it would be too scared to admit its presence after the abominations it witnessed. Leaping over the breaks between the warehouses, the form of the pursued entity became clearer: body of a no more than 40 year old man, with an irregular bump on his left side. Wait, sorry, that’s a suitcase. And a large one at that. As the pursue continued, the figure leaned on his left each time he placed his left foot down. Sigh… Is this guy even trying to escape? Holding that hefty thing under his damn arm, substantially slowing himself down. Jesus… This is really the guy who supposedly stole important documents from the shitty archives, causing a whole fucking ruckus at 3 A-fucking-M??
Agile steps… let me clear this out, those are my own. The idiot these agile steps are hurrying towards, is currently trying to make his escape with, quote: ‘highly sensitive documents, containing information on us that could shut the whole organisation down overnight’. and quote. And guess who’s been put on clean-up duty…
“This is such BS.” I manage to tell the moon in my sleepy haste.
A ridiculously satisfying ‘Shwiiiing’ seems to alert my mid-crisis-stuck prey; in a brief moment, his stupid little head rotates towards the unsheathed blade, and his eyes pathetically convey his sudden realisation: he is about to die. And the wielder of the fateful blade would be pleasured to bring Death onto his pitiful self.
Unfortunately for the moron burglar, his (fabulous) pursuer found satisfaction in many bloody things, including torture (for absolutely no reason), and begging (reflected in the victim’s shimmering eyes and oh-so heartbreaking sobs for mercy). The long, deadly blade seems to turn (S/E/C) under my maniac gaze, while the crashing of the waves and the slow lull of anchored ships completely stops. My own rush has not stopped yet, as the metal roofs of the warehouses still dissonantly make my movement audible. To nobody actually. The run morphs into a jog and finally rests when I reach the pathetic excuse of a criminal (who kept me awake at this unearthly hour). Striding past him, I position myself in his way, maybe a good 3 meters in front of him, and click my fingers, at which he simply ran and collided into me, shocked to spot me there. Grabbing him by his cheap black bomber jacket, I deliver a nice, clean blow to the jaw, which sends him backwards and on the annoyingly sonorous rooftop.
“Wait! Please! Please let me explain!” the nameless entity screamed in the silence of the night.
I point my sword towards his trembling figure splattered under my scrutinising gaze, and watch him fumble with the suitcase, trying to pointlessly hide it behind his back as if I was blind the whole time and hadn’t heard a word about it or its damn contents.
“P-please hear me out!”
“Dude.”
As I spoke my first syllables of the day (remember, it’s 3AM, it’s a new fucking day), the man’s eyes widened and beads of sweat rolled down his temple in a marvellous gleam of pure fear.
“What. The fuck.”
Now I’ve just confused him.
“You’d think that they’d wake you up so late at night for something of extreme importance. Not for some dumbass who can’t even run straight. And a word of advice: if someone’s on your heels, it most probably means that they are NOT blind. So take that suitcase out of your ass… Jesus…”
The guy gradually complies, but he’s gripping on the handle like it’s his secret special porn stash or something. Why does Tachihara appear in my head at that thought— argh nevermind. I’m still stuck with this whiny bitch in the deserted port.
“The hell did you want to tell me? C’mon, I haven’t got all night for this shit.” I’m beginning to grow impatient at this guy’s inability to form words. That and the fact that he keeps gaping his mouth at me.
“W-well... ok... ok ok ok... I fucked up. I-I don’t even know what’s inside the suitcase. T-they just told m-me to find my way in the m-mafia’s quarters, nab a particularly big case, and bring it b-back to them...”
At this point, his stammering plainly irritated me, hence I brought the blade behind my head, in position to promptly swipe at his neck, in case he became too boring.
“H-honest to God, please! You’ve got to b-believe me! I j-just need the money for the f-family...”
Oh my... he just played the ‘Family Support’ card... Sigh... Is there seriously nothing interesting you can give me, God-That-Everyone-Says-Exists?? He just completely killed the mood...
“Whatever. Tell me who employed you, and I’ll set you free, because you’re literally wasting my time.”
A small fire lit up in his teary eyes, as if he could already taste the freedom.
“Yes yes!” Well he’s more than eager to spill. “They’re an organisation. A whole institution, working in the dark, away from the governm—“
“THE NAME. Give me the damn name!” I yelled in my impatience.
“T-TENMA!”
What.
“What did you just say?” The arm holding the sword fell to my side in astonishment.
“I gave you the damn name. Now let me go!”
Wow this guy’s getting confident here. I try my best to ignore the information he gave me, it’s a matter for later.
“Huh? You forget the setting you’re in. One more act of rebellion like that and I might just let this slip past your precious little neck...”
“I TOLD YOU WHAT I KNOW, LET ME GO!”
He moved to stand properly, in an attempt to overwhelm me with his height, and lunged at me with a pocket knife—a hidden weapon he waited to use at the most opportune moment. Whatever that may be...
Before he could reach my face with his shitty little knife, I swung my own blade in a circular upwards motion, cleanly detaching his palms from his forearms in spurts of crimson and shrieks. The force sends him down again, curling on himself in an attempt to alienate the feeling of his lack of hands, all while the loose limbs hit the metal of the roof with a sickly ‘Thud’ followed by the ‘Clank’ of the knife making contact with the annoyingly loud metal.
He’ll probably die of shock before he suffers from blood loss.
But that thought was shut down, when he propped himself up crosslegged, with a newly-found spite in his eyes and words.
“Monster... you just prey on the weaker because you think you have power and will over us. Because you have an ability and we don’t. At least I’ve managed to get this far without an ability, I’d say I’m more powerful than you, and a much more skilled thief than you, Port Mafia scum!”
A low laugh emanates from my throat and startles the little robber.
“Pff... Fool... Yeah. I prey on weaklings. Because there is NOBODY who can truly pose a threat to me anymore. You call yourself a better thief than me? Huh. Funny. You robbed the Port Mafia of a few papers and a leather case? I’ll rob you of your time.”
A malicious grin splashed on my face, letting him know what he truly got himself into. My blade made itself comfortable on the other side of his neck, bathed in pig’s blood and death. A rolling sound ensued, followed by a short silence then another thud below me, but with my back turned, I ignored the familiar noises and went to retrieve the damsel in distress, AKA the damn suitcase. I raise it to eye level in an attempt to understand its grand importance.
“Freedom? Guaranteed by this thing? Who’d be so stupid to put their life in the metaphorical hands of a leather box?”
“Him.”
The low tone of the voice sent a little shiver up my back, in addition to the smug smile that rested on my face. What is he even doing here…
“Decided to drop by? Get a whiff of the smell of death and pain that you so desperately need to survive?” I inquire over my shoulder.
A scoff is heard but the corner of his lips curved up slightly in the silver of the moonlight. My body fully turns around on its own, attracted maybe, by the ‘witness’ of tonight’s show. His slow, calculated steps ripple through the pool of blood flowing towards the rough edges of the rooftop.
“You could say that. I came here to watch your calm and collected demeanour break in the face of your numerous guilty pleasures.”
I’m sure now. My own body fluidly advanced without my consent towards its new target, with not-so-peaceful intentions.
“Why don’t you find out first-hand?!” a disturbingly mad smile prodded at my mouth, my voice took a dangerously lunatic tone, as my left hand sank into the inside pocket of the dark coat, pulling out a gun, glistening under the terrified gaze of the moon. The gun is longer than average, compliments of my divergent design choices, and was always enough to scare away random idiots who decided to try and harass this supposedly innocent-looking girl on the streets. But he’s no random idiot; the gun didn’t faze him at all, but rather gave him a confident attitude in regards to my provocation.
The devil himself was on his side, after all, as it appeared out of his own obsidian coat, ready to disarm me before I could even begin my approach. I pressed my finger three times on the trigger, forcing the beast to eat the space between the bullets and the master, giving me ample time to unsheathe my bloody sword again and slide rapidly towards him. But he’s learned. The beast returned to its spike form after it successfully halted the bullets in their path, and lunged at my figure, in an attempt to impale me. I manoeuvred my blade to close in on the milky skin on his neck, attempting to complete my fatal signature move. But then again, things can have disappointing endings, as most of them do to be honest. Both weapons came to a millimetric stop, my blade on the left side of his neck, the tip of the spike almost drawing a bit of blood out of my nape. We both decide to sneak a peak at each other, simultaneously might I add, as we both allow the adrenaline to tone down a bit. With a smug face accompanying it, my voice breaks the silence once again.
“Didn’t we agree you’d be warming up the bed? Or did you miss me so much already?”
“I thought I’d keep it all cold, so that when you dip under the covers, you’ll reach out and cling to me.”
“Asshole…”
“Never thought you’d have a thing for assholes.”
“Just one.”
“Would you mind removing this from my neck? I mean, I stand no chance, you’ve had control over Rashomon since it appeared. Those (S/E/C) eyes don’t lie.” he motioned his eyes towards the blade infinitely close to him.
My eyes proceed to do a small roll, but the smile never leaves. I sheathe the sword back in its place on my waist, and I let go of my hold on Rashomon’s motion. I never said he wasn’t an idiot. He’s an idiot for even accepting my provocation fully knowing the extent of my capabilities. And an even bigger idiot for trusting me unconditionally.
“What are you doing here, Ryuu?”
His face morphed into a much calmer version, losing its arrogant attitude.
“Heading back to headquarters.”
“Another all-nighter…”
“What do you expect, when my face is on every police-issued poster?”
“What do you expect, when you literally kill everyone who’s in your way? As in actually in your way.” The corner of my lips curled upwards. But it fell back into a frown almost immediately, upon remembering the new information I’ve gathered from the dead burglar; it didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“What happened?” he asked almost knowingly.
“I’m not sure myself…” I think I’m looking distressed again, worse than when I got the wake up call earlier.
“How about we talk over a nice glass of brandy? You seem to need it.” he suggested assuringly.
We leave the stench of the abandoned pig on the roof of the harbour shed, and jump through the thick night towards HQ, where we were expected to report our successes, and leave stolen suitcases.
Our arrival is almost silent, our steps muted by the expensive carpets covering the entirety of the floor. We quickly leave word of the mission details, and the stupid suitcase (can’t forget about that load of bullshit), and head to the executive offices area, two floors under the Boss.
Hands in our pockets, we almost glide towards my office door, and all but compete to get inside, in the room’s comfort and privacy. The creak of the door signalled its closure, and a thud indicated that Ryuu had plopped down on the velvet couch —no sorry— he threw his heavy coat on the backrest of the couch, and quickly went in front of the left wall, pressing a significant spot in between two paintings, opening up a secret compartment with a resounding ‘clink’. The numerous, half-empty bottles looked cut out of an old movie: the golden and red and dark-tinted liquids filling up different bottles, the clinking of the glass whenever you’d try to slip a bottle out of its place and the undeniable need for those contents… it’s out of a movie, I’m telling you (AN: literally). All that’s really missing is the intoxication with those pesky little cigarettes… setting the mood perfectly for another stressful discussion on the investigation.
“Although I can make an accurate guess, I’ll ask anyway. What’s your poison for tonight?” Ryuu has now grabbed an empty glass from the hidden shelves and is letting his free hand hover above the various bottle heads.
Seating myself in the one-man couch, having already discarded my coat, I lull my head backwards, as if thinking very deeply, consequently extracting a minute growl from an inpatient Akutagawa.
“Let’s see… a glass of tequila will do the trick.” I finally answer, content with my choice.
“Certainly, m’am. Anything for the ‘Monster of the Port Mafia’.” he replied, faking a mocking, waiter accent, all with that constant suggestive grin.
“The ‘Port Mafia SCUM’ he said!” I lost myself in euphoria when I realised how he referenced the dead burglar’s last words, and burst out into uncontrollable laughter.
Ryuu returned to the couches with two glasses, filled with an elegant amount of the fire-like orange liquid, glowing in the soft light of the office. Handing me one of the glasses, he sat down in the vicinity, and offered to raise our glasses and lightly clink them. I proceed to take a large sip of the liquid, then prop myself against the back of the chair, still grinning wildly after our playful roleplay; the late(early) hour and the drink made the couch feel as if I could sink into it, as if I could succumb to a state of total numbness and serenity.
“Did you plan on spoiling me tonight?” I proceed to ask in a half-laughter.
Ryuu heads to the desk drawer and returns with a small metal box with a sliding lid, which covered a set of eight, neatly placed, cigarettes, with golden filters, and extends his hand in my direction, offering me one.
“Well, when my lady says she isn’t sure of something and is distressed, I’m entitled to treat her like a queen, spoiling her with the finest and the most intoxicating of her pleasures.”
His voice suddenly became tinted with honey, something unheard of. Lighting the cigarette, I inhale the calming smoke full of nicotine, and exhale relieved.
“I’ll allow it this time, (F/N). Just don’t blow it towards me.” he reassured me firmly.
“Heh… I’ll have to find another lead in the case to get another smoke like this in the future…” my voice decreased in amplitude, giving him ample time to understand the reason of this 4AM smoke.
His face lit up and asked a silent question with his argent eyes, followed by the audible question.
“Another lead?”
A nod.
“And?”
“And… They’re after the mafia. For an unknown reason. The guy I caught… he was employed by them, to steal the suitcase, who cried he had no idea about its contents. Then there’s the fact that Mori-san specifically asked me to go after the guy.”
An inhale of smoke, followed by the mandatory exhale.
“Why am I getting a major deja vu?” I inquired.
“You don’t mean…”
“If Boss is involved in the Tenma case, whether directly or only through a few deals and transactions—“
“It could lead them straight to you. But that would put you under constant threat!”
“Then I’ll be waiting for them. If Hinohara’s team of childhood fuckers manages to find me, I’ll be waiting with a very pleasant gift.”
I think a fire lit in my eyes, because Akutagawa’s eyes widened in worry and surprise —a fire in my eyes signals my undying stubbornness. I down the last of the tequila, the burn of the alcohol warming up my insides soothingly, and burn the cigarette butt out in the ivory ashtray nearby.
Hm… cigarettes are awfully similar to human lives. Can be very soothing and relaxing, could also burn your throat and make you cough, make your lungs suffer; they burn out quickly, therefore they die. But most of all, they are all noxious, whether it feels good or not.
“(F/N), let’s wrap up here. We stay in this place too much anyways.”
With an audible sigh, I heavily stand up, pushing myself on both armrests, and come to a standing position. Or so I thought. My body fell out of balance and toppled forward into a hard chest, where two scrawny arms caught my limp body into a careful embrace, ready to sustain my increasing weight as my legs gave away bit by bit.
“Oh for f… Jesus, (F/N), did you get drunk from one single glass?”
I was still able to hear his stupid question, to which I shook my head in his neck.
“Fuck off, I’m just tired as hell… haven’t eaten anything in six hours or so either… I’ll have you know my alcohol tolerance is far better than Asshat’s.” I mumbled sleepily (and grumpily).
“Everybody’s tolerance is leagues better than Chuuya-san’s, this doesn’t justify anything.” his laugh sort of echoed in my ears and dissipated as sleep threatened to conquer my vulnerable body.
“Oi, wake up, you can sleep on the bed, not here. Fuck’s sake… here’s your coat, and your sword and guns. Put them in the coat, c’mon. The faster you move, the faster you’ll get to sleep.”
His authoritarian voice didn’t really help my sloppy self as I could barely stand to drape my coat on, and re-arm myself for travel’s sake. Ryuu crouched with his back to me, beckoning me to hop on his frail back, to piggyback him. I somehow manage to jump up as he secures me up here, and proceeds to exit the office, using Rashomon to turn off the lights and lock the room with the spare keycard he holds. He makes his way inside the elevator, where he stops and calls someone I’m not quite sure about. From what I can now barely make out, we exit the elevator doors and approach a dark figure, cloaked in shadows. I can see between my heavy eyelids that it’s Gin’s long onyx hair and her amused complex, next to a jet black car (the siblings seem to love black, and it’s contagious).
“Which place, brother?”
“The closest, the penthouse in the boulevard skyscraper.”
“Gotcha.”
Then, nothing.