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A fact: humans love to cling to random objects. A plush toy, a diary and a necklace all fit in this category. They’re used to express emotions or keep memories of events from the past. Flowers are known to symbolise feelings too, and one of them also fits in the category above: the Forget-Me-Nots, with petit azure petals and all gathered in clusters, as if softly squeaking in unison “Forget me not! Forget me not!”. The more curious people would find that these symbolise true love, fidelity and memories, derived from the famous tale of how the flowers got their name.
Another fact: I’m human, too. These flowers are my random object I’ve attached myself to for… no good reason. Maybe I wanted to feel closer to a human, trying to feel compassion, or at least happiness, especially after Oda-san rescued me all those years ago. Every time I pass by the small amphora in the living room filled with these blooms, I can remember distinctly, how Oda-san handed me a few of the stems from the edge of the path, the colour of the flowers matching his eyes perfectly.
If only the little blossoms kept screaming at me “Forget me not! Forget me not!”…
~·~
I sit up abruptly, panting, shaking, cautious. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, despite the cold of the room. I quickly recover from the repetitive nightmare. Looking around, I observe unfamiliar colours of beige on the walls and chocolate brown curtains, hiding away the early morning light. The bed I shot out of was strangely comfortable, as if I had been here before. I realised that I wasn’t the only one hosted by the bed; to my right, a tuff of raven hair was laying on the blanched pillow. The tuff was connected to more humps further down the bed, underneath the covers. With my half-asleep mind, I came to the conclusion that there was someone else lying there, sleeping soundly, and also that I slept next to them moments ago. I decided to deal with this mysterious figure later (I had no energy to spare on extra ruckus), and continued to observe my surroundings. A monochrome clock up on the wall, a large, silver-framed mirror on the opposite wall, a modern-looking wardrobe with similar chocolatey sliding doors to my left, and a mahogany door with four square glass panes placed vertically, next to the wardrobe. It’s a nice place, very well kept and cleaned, with a constant soft scent of lavender, coming from the said plant in the ancient vase on the white table in front of the mirror. But the question remains:
Where am I?
I stand up to inspect the place a bit more, trying to comprehend the situation as much as possible. I walk through a dark hallway, into what seems to be a red and black themed living room, connected to a kitchen through an archway, slightly taller and wider than average doorways. Two blood red couches were symmetrically facing each other around an atramentous (black) coffee table with a glass surface; there was a small greek vase in the middle of the table, filled with cute little azure blooms. Many insignificant objects were sprawled on shelves, on drawers and other flat surfaces but what really caught my attention was the sunlit bookcase, as tall and wide as the whole wall, sheltering numerous books, old and new, along with more little items.
How did I get here?
I creeped near the massive chestnut brown structure and turned around, only to be blinded by rays of sunlight, creating colourful spots in my vision on the white background. Moving out of the uncomfortable spot, I glance again, to notice that the light was pouring in through three window panes, all connected and taking up the entirety of the opposite wall from the bookcase.
With careful steps, as to not stir the mysterious person in the bedroom, I advanced towards the light source and peeked outside, where the view left me breathless: from a very high point in the city, all the other buildings were lower and almost irrelevant; the sun’s morning white rays were perfectly reflected in the waves of the sea, further away from my current location. Distracted by the view, I failed to notice the discrete creak of a distant door…
“Enjoying ourselves?” a deep morning voice startled me from the frame of the hallway.
His stance would’ve been almost mocking, if not for the man’s sleepy gaze and slumped figure, drowsy and tired.
“Where am I? Who are you? And how did I even get here? Answer me!” I desperately yelled at this new face. Something is horribly wrong, this isn’t where I should have woken up.
His chuckle only continued to agitate me, as he shook his head in amusement. An amusement I don’t quite understand. What’s so funny in not knowing why you woke up in a stranger’s bed and house?
“Haha… bad joke, good acting though. C’mon, I’ll make beverages. Coffee or tea?” he replied casually, as if he’s been asking this question daily for a long time.
“What do you mean? Who the hell are you?” now I was desperate and irritated that this guy was treating everything like a joke.
His deep silver eyes only kept their amused glint as he turned around and motioned me with his head to the kitchen. I decided to follow only to get an answer.
Why am I here?
“Heh, ok drop the act, you’re being childish, and coming from me, it says something.” he continued chuckling, clearly entertained, yet slightly impatient.
“What act? I don’t know you! Tell me what I’m doing here!” at this point I marched towards him and shoved him towards a wall in my anger.
“What’s wrong with you? You live here, (F/N).” he answered firmly.
How is this possible? I have no recollection of this place. Or him for that matter.
You live here, (F/N).
He knows my name.
“I’m sorry, how do you know my name?” I cautiously ask as I step away from him.
“Uh, from the mafia? We’re partners both work wise and relationship wise. That’s how. Are you serious?” he responded in a worried manner. It’s as if I asked the weirdest questions.
“You told me I live here. I’m being honest, I don’t remember this place at all, not the furniture scattered around, not the rooms, not you. Nothing. But I have this vague sensation that my body knows this place. Why can’t I remember?” I clawed at my hair with widened, distressed eyes as he approached me slowly.
“Do you know where you work?”
“The Port Mafia.” my answer came automatically.
“Ok, good. Do you have an ability?”
“Yes, The Time Thief. I can stop time and mess with it however I please.”
He paused, almost contemplating whether to ask his next question or not. He decides to go with it anyway.
“Do you know where you grew up?” this time his question was slow.
My complex darkened suddenly at that question as I recalled the institution and the cell…
“T-Tenma…”
“Ok. You say you don’t remember me at all.” I nod at this. “Does the name Chuuya Nakahara tell you anything?”
“Yes, he’s my best friend, how can I not remember him?” I awkwardly laugh.
“Alright. My name is Ryuunosuke Akutagawa. You used to call me Ryuu because you complained constantly that my name is too long. Call me whatever you feel like right now. We’ll take this one step at a time. Dress up, the wardrobe in the bedroom is yours. We’re going to headquarters.”
The man, who I now know as Akutagawa, continued making the morning beverages and stormed the fridge for food. I made my way to the bedroom, letting the information sink in, trying to accept that this person is not a stranger apparently, and calmed myself down.
An hour later, we found ourselves parking under the mafia headquarter building. He led me through familiar corridors to Boss’ floor and knocked. A faint ‘Come in.’ gave us permission to slip inside. Boss was situated on his vintage chair, facing the huge glass panes overlooking the city. Typical of him.
“Akutagawa-kun, I didn’t expect you to come for your mission briefing personally. Hello, (F/N).” Mori-san greeted. I waved back with a smile.
So Boss knows this Akutagawa guy. That’s reassuring. At least he’s not really a complete stranger.
“I didn’t. We have a situation.” Akutagawa replied quickly.
“And what would that be?”
“(F/N) can’t remember anything linked to me. That includes me, our house and any events together. She seems to know the rest of the mafia, as well as her job and origins.” At that I quietly growled. “What should we do?”
“It seems as if our young Executive Officer is suffering from an amnesia of sorts. She only forgot you? Interesting. We don’t really have time to deal with this properly, but since she knows her position and job in the mafia, let her accompany you in your own mission. Maybe that’ll trigger her memories.” Boss tossed Akutagawa a small device with a screen. “Here are the details. We are starting our coup on the Guild today. When you come back, we’ll talk more about this. Dismissed.”
We fluidly make our way out of the large chambers, as the man beside me started reading the information about the mission.
“I have to obliterate the two remaining targets from the guild after that weirdo, Kajii, destroys their ship. Don’t interfere for your safety.” he informs me in a professional manner.
“Ok, I’m not going to mess with your mission, I’ll stay in the back and aid you if you need it.” reassuring him, we make our way to the nearby port.
A hundred deafening booms later, smoke casually rose from the destroyed ship. Akutagawa advanced towards the numerous people scattered around the loading area; various black tentacle-like forms emerged from his obsidian coat, impaling every single form standing there, diffusing the usual stench of blood, this time mixed with the powerful aroma of algae. It seems Akutagawa isn’t the seaside type, as he started lightly coughing in his pale hand, then spoke.
“This sea breeze is suffocating.”
The multiple spikes retracted in his coat, dropping the previously lifted bodies, leaving only putrid death behind.
What an offensive ability. And what a sudden change in his personality from earlier this morning.
“Let’s get this over with quickly.”
The male target, Hawthorne as I understand, turned to face us, the blood pouring from the hole in his torso.
“Are you a Port Mafia assassin?” the target inquired.
“How are you feeling, irmão of the Guild?”
“Pretty awful. A bit like I’ve had a run-in with the devil spoken of in the bible.” my lips curved up at his (I guess) accurate comparison. “May I ask your name?”
“Diablo.” I couldn’t hold my chuckle in at that.
Neither could Hawthorne, it seems.
“Then this must be Mount Hermon. Are you a trial sent to test this humble servant’s faith in God?”
“Is it a trial you want?” Akutagawa quickly added. “Then I’ll give you one!”
The strips emerged again from the demon coat and morphed into spikes, headed straight for Hawthorne who, put up a most interesting type of barrier, made up from his blood. Wouldn’t he run out of blood at this rate? My temporary partner didn’t look too pleased when his attack was completely blocked.
“Do not call me ‘irmão’. I am a minister, not some relic of ancient Rome!”
Ok, now this guy sounds pissed. The barrier was still active, illuminating our faces and the side of the wrecked ship bright red.
“Don’t think that will be enough to test my faith, you trash!” Hawthorne’s tone gradually increased with each word.
The blood he used for the barrier now distorted into similar spikes, headed for Akutagawa and myself. My partner activated his own barrier, created by the little devil heads from his coat, protecting my stationary form as well.
“Repent, little guy of the Port Mafia!”
“Interesting!”
The two men sent out their abilities, meeting in the middle in violent contact at an incredibly high speed. The two seemed stuck in a static battle, letting their abilities do the job for them. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to slow down time, to view their motions carefully. However, I did not expect my head to feel like a brick just hit me; as soon as I attempted to use my Time Thief ability, I collapsed in pain, clutching at my pounding head for dear life, and curling on myself to stop the pain somehow. I couldn’t tell in that moment if Akutagawa had noticed, but the enemy surely did, because even in my state of agony I felt a stray golden spike advance towards me, before one of the onyx ones halted its approach.
He did see…
From my position I was not able to see much after, except hear what they discussed. The pain is slowly subsiding though, maybe I can wait it out. When Akutagawa turned around to look at me, I waved him off; he has other issues, he doesn’t need to worry about me, who doesn’t even remember him.
“Is that all you can do, irmão?”
“You are no devil at all.”
“What?”
I raise my head with difficulty, enough to see what’s happening, and crawl to Akutagawa’s right, next to the large cargo crates, slumping myself against one. The worded golden strips now manifested from the demon coat, where the enemy’s blood stained, and cancelled out any of my partner’s movements by enveloping him with a thick band of golden words and blood. Hawthorne addressed him again, with more spite than before.
“You are merely a soulless beast that craves the flesh of the weak. I’m sure you’ve only fought gifted enemies who were weaker than you up until now.”
That can’t be right. This man doesn't seems soulless to me. Not from this morning.
A powerful current appeared around the trapped mafioso, in words of pale yellow hues. This got Akutagawa’s attention back as he seemed to be contemplating what Hawthorne said earlier.
“The Port Mafia is nothing. I will take back my family’s honour!” a young woman’s voice (of my age probably) conveyed from the pool of blood behind the minister.
The wind only intensified along with the female target’s feelings, as my partner’s coat started falling apart at its edges.
“I cannot lose to one like you, who has never known defeat or humiliation!”
A sudden, dark aura cast itself around my partner. Some people have this talent of hearing a little switch click in others’ minds; a click which signifies that the part of their mind that shouldn’t be accessed had just been accessed. Akutagawa’s forehead filled with wrinkles in his anger, clearly she has no idea what she unleashed. Even I can tell, and I don’t even know him.
“Never known defeat, you say?” his tone was low and dangerous.
His coat manifested once again, this time imbedding itself in the ground— no, digging through the concrete, only to resurface as a huge spiked structure of black matter, impaling the woman with sickly sounds of ripped flesh. Hawthorne turned around only to yell “Margaret!” in shock and worry.
“Defeat and humiliation are always with me.” Akutagawa broke free from the restraints while the enemy was distracted, and called back his ability, disappearing in his coat. “I am a remnant, going through the darkness. As such, despair of this nature, will not ruin me!” as he emphasised the last words, Akutagawa leaped in an offensive motion towards Hawthorne.
However, mid-air, my partner suddenly stopped his advance, and dropped to the ground in pain. While he coughed in a disturbingly violent manner, I was powerless to aid him when a pool of blood formed at his feet. The enemy looked confused, fortunately, since he wouldn’t take advantage of my partner’s moment of weakness. But it seems I spoke (thought) too soon...
“This is nothing! Come at me! Fight me with all you’ve got! Otherwise there was no point to me coming here!” Akutagawa provoked, with a rugged voice, caused by his earlier cough-spree.
“Why would you go to such lengths?” the minister inquired, still recovering from his confusion.
“I have to bear the agony of my loved one not remembering a single thing about me. My only hope is for one word now. A simple, trivial word from a certain person. For the sake of hearing that word, I have come through countless humiliating defeats!”
Hearing his, I was surprised to recognise a part of the man from this morning in this much more emotionless, ruthless version. I could only utter a single word, a name, “Ryuu...” before the enemy decided to accept the provocation. He brought a cross-shaped blade to the upperside of his palm, making a deep, clean cut there, liberating a generous amount of blood.
“You asked me to fight with all I’ve got, yes? I’ve changed my mind. I will grant your wish.”
Akutagawa chuckled in a low, dangerous manner, as Hawthorne projected his blood-spikes towards the mafioso. The latter countered by slashing through the words, only to realise that they’ve split and are approaching both of us at a high speed. The beast from his coat rose the barrier against the multiple spikes, while Hawthorne shifted in the same position as the most recent attack, and sent down another powerful strip of words. This was again slashed by the dark matter spikes, only to split them once more, flying even faster, towards me this time. Akutagawa had a split second to react, and positioned himself in front of me, fully taking the hit, the spikes going through his thin figure, but refracting the golden spikes away from me.
Meanwhile, one of the black strips made its way fluidly to Hawthorne’s neck, making a deep incision there and startling the latter; but an incision of that size only meant more blood for him to manipulate. Akutagawa took a second to realise that, when the enemy smirked darkly, as all the blood that spurted out now morphed into one giant sphere above Hawthorne. I dragged myself as close as possible to the battle with my hand extended when numerous thick spikes inched closer and closer to Akutagawa, leaving me screaming.
“NOOO!!”
Akutagawa seemed mesmerised for a moment, only for his face to darken afterwards; the man yelled his ability, in an attempt to stop the enemy from killing him right there.
“Rashomon... Jaws of Endless Gates!”
The demon heads appeared so suddenly and out of nowhere, completely countering Hawthorne’s ability, and lunging for the older man. Rashomon pushed the enemy into the wall of a storage shed with tremendous force, then retracted back into Akutagawa’s coat. I had time to recover from earlier, so I stood up and bolted towards Akutagawa’s falling body. I pressed my hand onto his shoulder as he paid no attention to me, once again looking mesmerised, deep in his thoughts.
“Those words... I don’t need you to tell me that, I know.” he uttered, his palms holding his slumped body from dropping on the ground.
I decided to not question his words, as they didn’t seem to be directed towards me. Instead, my body moved on its own, crouching in front of him then kneeling, also lightly pulling on his shoulders to make him lay his head on my lap. He complied, confused, but complied nonetheless. Akutagawa made himself comfortable on my legs, as I carefully held his head between my palms, lightly stroking the two longer strands in front, both in an unusual ombre turning white.
“I’m sorry. I still don’t know who you are, but my body acts on its own around you. Maybe you’re right, I do know you. But this is the most I can do for you right now.” I spoke calmly to the bleeding figure.
“I’m willing to accept anything from you, (F/N). We should head back, before the Anti-Terrorrist squads get here. The lemon-head made such a mess, I swear...” Akutagawa was content, I could tell from his at ease tone of speech.
I slowly sat up, simultaneously lifting Akutagawa from my lap, and steadied him by his shoulders. We proceeded to walk towards our pick up car, all while he was leaning his weight slightly on me, his hand around my shoulders, his body too slumped for our liking. The car drove us to HQ, where a medical team awaited us on my orders as Executive Officer.
I feel so distressed about this man’s condition. I barely know him and I’m already barking orders to aid him... If only I could remember...
Hours later, I was lounging in my high office chair, overlooking the port and the wreckage Kajii caused. My hands interlaced on my stomach, my mind far gone into its deep thinking. I’ll spare you the process because it’s literally the same questions I’ve been asking since I woke up this morning.
The discrete ring of my phone pulls me out of my mindscape, beckoning me to answer the caller.
‘Medical Wing’
“Executive Officer, m’am.”
“That’s me.”
“You’ve been given clearance to visit after he wakes up. This may be an hour at most. Rest assured, his vitals are ok.”
“Thank you. I’ll drop by later.”
*beep*
Placing the phone on the white desk, my mind wanders to the tranquil image of Akutagawa’s head on my lap, and those soft white ends of his hair.
Fuck this desk. Why does everything remind me of him?
The obsidian chair, the white desk, the vintage clock (always changes, much like his moods from what I’ve seen), what the hell?
I decide to pick up on paperwork from where I left off...
~·~
(Akutagawa POV)
Where am I?
Oh, the medical wing. Right. Is this how she woke up? Confused and full of questions? Damn, I shouldn’t have let the fight continue when I saw her collapse. Why is this all happening to her?
Anyway... what I’d like to know is why Dazai-san appeared before me when Hawthorne launched his last attack on me. And even after that, when she placed her hand on my shoulder, Jinko appeared from back then on the ship. It could be her doing. She mentioned some time ago she may be able to manipulate memories, but she couldn’t be sure until she tested it out. Her desperate scream behind me may have been reason enough to explain my visions. Abilities manifest automatically in distressed states of mind. I don’t think she is aware of this manifestation. However, I can’t be sure it was her since I wasn’t able to see her eyes shift to (S/E/C). Still, it’s all fucked up since she can’t remember me. What could’ve caused such exclusive amnesia? Some asshole from that institute? It would make sense... but she’s the investigator, not me. We need to figure this out and bring her memories back.
Don’t forget me, (F/N)...
~·~
(Main POV)
I knock softly on the ivory hospital door; the plate reading ‘103’ standing out a little with its bold font. An impatient voice questions my identity, a little rasped, but weirdly, that gave me a good feeling about him, as if he’s back to normal or something. I still don’t really understand...
The door slid easily, smoothly, making no sound whatsoever (unlike all the office doors). Akutagawa sat on the bed in bandages and a hospital gown, like a princess might I add, covered halfway by the thin blanket. His clothes were situated neatly on a nearby chair; I moved them on one of the nightstands and dragged the chair near his bed, sitting down.
“Hey.”
“Yeah, hey.”
His ‘yeah, hey’ was accompanied by a very interesting smile, full of honesty and content.
He is genuinely happy to see me. That’s... cute.
“Should I ask how you’re feeling? You seem the type to get irritated by these cliche questions.” I inform him chuckling.
“You say you don’t know me, but you still get these little details. Are you sure you’re not playing a game?” Akutagawa further asked.
“I assure you, I’m not the type to play sick games like these.”
A slightly uncomfortable silence followed. I broke it.
“I can’t really imagine how this is all for you. If I really am what you told me I am to you, this is heartbreaking... your lover not remembering you.”
He sat there in silence, taking in what I said. If he is telling the truth, then maybe this random infatuation with him can be explained. I don’t remember him, yet I’m stronly attracted to him. I constantly feel the need to stay close to him, feel his raven hair, his pale skin, his arms around me...
WAIT. Hold up. Chill, (F/N). You still don’t REALLY know him.
I decide to slip my hand in his, placed parallel to his body on the blanched sheets, and grip it tight enough to let him understand: I’m here for him. He tensed at the contact, but relaxed soon after. I lay my head on the mattress next to his arm, the top of my tuff of hair touching his gown on his ribs.
“(F/N).”
“Hnn?”
“Don’t stay there, come up here.” the sweetness in his rugged voice persuaded me to do as he said.
I nod in acknowledgement, and slowly, lazily most likely, climb next to him, where he draped an arm around my shoulders, and brought me closer so we were almost stuck to each other. He softly pressed my head on his shoulder, consequently placing my nose in the crook of his neck. My hand had sloppily dropped on his chest and his scent of blood and tea enveloped my senses.
He seems happy now. Well... honestly, so am I.
We sit there for what I believe were hours, but when I take another glance at the clock lifted up on the wall, it only reads ‘16:35’.
“Did they tell you when you can leave?” I break the comfortable silence (again).
“Anytime. As long as I don’t strain myself and open the wounds.”
“Let’s go to your house and eat something.”
He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow and mouth in a line, his face straight. I realised my mistake immediately.
“OUR house.” I correct myself with a quick smile.
At that, he closes his silvery eyes and nods approvingly. Akutagawa gets out from under the covers and reaches for his clothes on the nightstand; his wounds however, let him just out of reach. His short yelp alarmed me, as I shot out of the chair and came close to him.
“Maybe I should help...”
“Won’t you feel awkward?”
“Trust me, we’re way past the line of awkward at this point.” I respond giggling.
After I help him dress up, I sheathe his arms in the long sleeves of his demon coat, then fix its collar properly, giving him his deadly look back. I smile at my ‘masterpiece’ and proceed out of the sunlit room.
~•~
Two steaming bowls of miso soup and little bowls of rice were symmetrically positioned on the dinner table, along with a newly opened bottle of red wine (forgot the year and details, either way, good wine), compliments of Akutagawa. I believe he’s trying to spoil me, trying to make me feel at home. I’m not complaining.
The food went quickly, I mean... we WERE pretty occupied with random priests and hospital naps the whole day. What do we do to relax from all that? Occupy ourselves with finishing that wine bottle. Obviously. Stranger or not, under the influence of alcohol they could become your best friend and you wouldn’t notice.
“Another glass for the lady?” he jokingly questioned, pretending to be some fancy waiter.
“Of course, my good sir.” I played along for the atmosphere. Anything to forget the events of today.
We continued laughing at this random roleplay and his hilarious acting (despite his appearance, he is a sweet guy behind closed doors, away from work). Once we settled with a swig or two of the liquid, he took on a very calm look, with a hint that he had something on his mind.
“We used to do this sort of game every time we brought out alcohol. We agreed it’s a refreshing activity after the killing and everything else... I’m glad I can still do it now.”
“Don’t be so sentimental. It’s only been— what, one day? We’ll figure it out.” my playful response was enough to further assure him that everything is fine. Well, for now at least.
“Well, I can see it’s not stopping you from fully enjoying this evening’s liquid poison.” he observed with a smirk.
“You saw right then.” with this, we clink our glasses and continue our discussions and attempts at making me remember past events together with him.
He told me about times when he’d come home late at night, only to find me awake, waiting for him with a steaming cup of tea of his liking and a few figs; I’d sacrifice my sleep for his comfort when he gets home all grumpy and irritated.
He told me about his sister, Gin, who I also can’t remember, and how her and myself would sit him down on one of the scarlet couches and told him to be patient, while we prepared rich dinner meals, served almost royally, in a little joke that in the mafia, dogs (like him) eat at the table with everyone else. Dumb jokes, he told me, but they’d lighten the mood.
He also told me about the dark times four years ago and how the departure of our mentor Dazai got us together.
Told me about how I’d comfort him whenever he’d wake up sweaty from nightmares and how he would comfort me when I woke up screaming from my own terrors.
Without realising, hours passed by, the bottle was long emptied out, and we’ve shifted closer and closer until only a breath separated us. The lack of conversation at this point forced us to glue our eyes to anything but each other, until we tried to focus on objects behind the other, only for our eyes to meet in the middle, startled yet fascinated.
What’s with this? Why do people lean closer and closer when their eyes meet in a deep gaze? Why do their hearts beat erratically? Why is my hand sliding, desperate, to grip on his clothes, touch his skin?
Why can’t I remember you?
But the question dissolved with the heat of the contact of our aching lips, his hand delicately palming my cheek, while my own hands attempted to pull him closer, feel him closer, gripping his funny shirt (the one with the frills). Any other time, I think I’d have made a joke or a reference to the frills, but I’ve been distracted too damn well this time. Our lips fitted together perfectly, so perfectly, my body seemed to remember this feeling from a distant past... Such a passionate, ardent thought, stuck at the back of my head, trying to escape, being completely unsuccessful as if something omnipotent was blocking its exit.
He prodded at the entrance of my mouth, begging me to grant him access. His childish anxiety and aching for the me-who-knows-him were incentive enough to let him loose, exploring my mouth, instantly winning the insignificant battle which we didn’t give a damn about anymore. After trying to go on without precious oxygen, we parted, unwillingly if you didn’t notice, and lusting for more. Our eyes said so much more than words.
But the moment dissipated in the suddenly cold residence, when he diverted his eyes from mine, with a regretful complex.
“Not like this... You don’t truly know me right now, we drank a lot, this isn’t right. I’m sorry, (F/N).” he spoke out his concerns truthfully.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” Akutagawa’s eyes linked back to mine. “I’m sorry too, for all this. If only I could remember, this wouldn’t have turned awkward...”
“It’s just that... sigh... There’s this voice in my head, telling me to stop this before I hurt you unknowingly, echoing...”
Echoing.
Echoing...
Echo—
Thud.
It’s dark again.
~·~
Beams of sunlight flooded the bedroom, straight into my sensitive orbs.
I need to stop waking up like this. (Flawless)
Fuck’s sake, did I drink last night? Feels like it... I groggily get off the bed to find a glass of water, when I stumble upon my beloved, just pouring boiling water over tea leaves.
“Mornin’, Ryuu...” I sounded like a broken trumpet.
His eyes went wide all of a sudden, as if I had just caught the TIEF fuckers or something. Heh, wouldn’t that be fun?
“(F-(F/N)?”
“That’s me...” an awkward chuckle left my lips. “What is it, Pup? Something wrong?”
His mouth only remained agape for a few more moments before he delivered a crushing embrace.
“Fuck, don’t scare me like that ever again. You’re back... you’re back.” he chanted.
“I’ve always been here, what are you talking about? Just yesterday I had that Executive meeting about the coup on the Guild today. Oh by the way, Boss will ca—“
“(F/N), stop.” his voice was firm. Scary.
I asked a silent question through my confused stare.
“That was two days ago. The coup’s starting phase already took place yesterday.”
“What? How is that possible?”
“You don’t remember anything from yesterday? Hawthorne? Mitchell?” he continued questioning.
Hawthorne... Mitchell... The ship... Ryuu getting wounded... I remember, my head hur—
“AAAH!” I clutched at my head, as all the memories of yesterday came back, including ones where I couldn’t remember anything about him.
“(F/N), what’s wrong?”
“I remember... e-everything!”
They all flashed lightning fast before my eyes, the blood, the confusion, the wine. Colourful images of death and pain danced in my vision, forcing me to absorb the information instantly. A word, fading in and out like a static TV.
Echo.
And it was gone.
My body stopped its spasmic episode, the pain dissipated and the memories remained, asleep.
“(F/N)?”
“All this... happened yesterday.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Ryuu.” lunging myself at him, I reinitiate the cozy, refreshing hug from before and shelter my face in his chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“I may be some ruthless killer of the mafia, and nothing is supposed to frighten me, but fuck me running that was scary.” he confessed, relieved.
Hearing that, I could only pause, stare at him, then let my laughter take over completely.
“I- haha, I never thought I’d h-hear YOU of all people say THAT.” my uncontrolled fit of laughter continued for a few minutes, during which Ryuu had been reduced to a cute smile and a flushed face. “F-fuck me running... haha. I get that you have your kinks, I know them lol, but that ain’t happening.”
His face became impossibly red, matching the roses in the vase on the kitchen counter behind him.
Oops, I broke him.
“What’s with the roses, Ryuu?”
He glanced back in the roses’ direction and grabbed my wrist, pulling me lightly towards them. We stepped beyond the archway into the kitchen, and he pulled me in front of him, with my back to the counter. His hands travelled downwards on my thighs, as he lifted me up next to that vase on the counter; the warm palms remained there, slowly drawing with his fingers on my sides, while Ryuu placed himself between my legs, inching closer and closer. His left hand slipped past my rear and extended, only to come back with one of the scarlet blooms, and a smile clung to his little mouth.
“For you, my Thief.” he handed me the flower, then pressed a quick peck on my lips, pleasantly startling me.
“Hmm thats so kind of you, my good sir.”
“And... sigh... here.” He took my hand in his own cold one and placed a flat, golden metal box, with a very familiar sliding lid. “You know the drill though, 2 metres away from me, sorry.”
I slowly opened the lid to reveal the black filters of the 10 tobacco rolls, separating the tobacco from the filter by a thin golden ring.
“Ryuu, what’s the occasion? You aren’t suicidal, are you?” I chuckled uneasy.
“Heh, don’t worry... I think I just needed you back really badly, I felt like wanting to spoil you just to get those moments back. But here you are, back to knowing me.”
“Dramatic fuck...”
“Well, I wasn’t the one who placed an alarm with the same tone as my ringtone to escape a moral dilemma.”
Oh shit. How did he—
“ASSHAT! He talked to you too??”
“Obviously, Miss Investigator. He told me shit like ‘mutual communication’ and ‘don’t be scared of her’... you get it. And then he got piss drunk, because there is no other alternative with Chuuya-san.”
Fucking hell...
My view slowly shifted to my lap, a pang of regret and slight anger with myself washed over me.
“Hey, hey, don’t give me that face, c’mon don’t do that. I’m not mad. We’re both idiots, and that’s fine.”
Closing my eyes, I let my lips slightly curl upwards, and tilt my head to meet his own forehead. Maybe he closed his eyes too in that moment, since we remained like that for a few more moments of serene silence.
Echo.
My eyes fluttered open, with the purpose of discussion. I distance myself from my beloved and gently grab at his shoulders, in order to shake him out of his trance.
“Ryuu. Moments ago, when I said I remembered yesterday’s events,” a pause for emphasis “I saw this... word, floating in my vision, appearing, disappearing, but it was there. Echo. After I understood what I saw, it all vanished, brought me back to you. Any ideas?”
He seemed to be caught in a deep thinking process, as if he actually had a lead. Without warning, Ryuu almost jumped with confidence in his process’ result.
“You said ‘echo’.” I nod, confused. “I also said echo last night. That was the last word I said before you collapsed into unconsciousness. Well, it was more like ‘echoing’ but it’s still there. Does it... does it mean something to you? Or is it of importance?”
“I have no recollection of this word being relevant to anything. Not even TIEF.”
Ryuu promptly took a step away from the counter and pulled me with him, forcing me to hop off if I did not have the desire to slip and fall. He was enveloped in this air of authority and confidence, as he lead me to our bedroom to change.
“Ok, fuck all this. You’re back and that’s what’s important. We need to concentrate on today, get ready for the next phase of the coup and not getting killed. Is that achievable, Executive Officer?”
“What the hell are we waiting for?” I flashed him a grin and swiftly leaned it pressing a peck on his lips.
Dramatically sliding the wardobe door open, I meticulously fish out today’s choice of clothing: midnight black shorts with translucent black tights, a flowy ivory shirt with buttons and collar, short-waisted charcoal blazer with no collar, and topping everything off with my signature knee-high pair of marine blue boots and several accessories around my hand (including my thin, pearly watch). Ryuu dresses to kill only (literally), therefore his usual outfit would do. Throwing over my long trench coat, almost identical to his own, we stomp our way out.
Our drive to HQ is short, anticipation gnawing at our thoughts for what’s to come. We’re supposed to split for our contribution to the plan, but it seems Boss has made some rather last-minute changes; my phone made sure I knew.
“(F/N)-kun? I request your presence in my office as soon as possible. There is something to be discussed. Oh and, since Akutagawa-kun is most probably near you, please convey this message to him: he is on standby in relation to the coup, however he may be sent on missions irrelevant to the Guild at a later time today. That is all.”
“Got it.” I sang my answer. “We’re going through the front gate anyway, I’ll be up in 5 minutes.”
Silence was the only answer I received as the line went dead.
In the few seconds before the car came to a stop in the underground parking lot, I was able to inform Ryuu of Boss’ message and of my near future whereabouts. With a hasty kiss, we part ways; he’s headed for his own dull office (actually he’s going to mine, but he thinks I don’t know who is consuming my tea leaves), I’m headed to the highest floor. The two distinct knocks on the grand door are accepted by the usual ‘Come in.’ and the sight of our lethal leader overlooking the city in his chair. Must I further describe?
“Mori-san.”
“(F/N)-kun.”
He silently beckons me to sit myself in the second chair somebody prepared, opposite to his own. A small dark wooden table is situated in between, holding two glasses of red wine, the source bottle of the drink and a small stack of papers. I relax myself in the coziness of the seat and allow him to further speak.
“I’ll be quick about this, (F/N). Kouyou-kun was captured by the Agency, you are aware.” I nod in confirmation. “They’ve released her this morning, after the mass-killings created by Q. She’s also been sent back with a very warm invitation to tea for me with the Agency’s President. Unofficially, just as you like it.”
I scrunched my nose at the multiple memories of these so-called ‘unofficial meetings’.
“And of course I’m supposed to attend. As a negotiator, a protector or a simple witness?” I flash a deadpan face, jokingly.
“I see you are used to this. Which one do you think?”
“The witness, obviously. No way would you let me run loose there as a protector, I’m an investigator, not a negotiator, so the only one left is the label you’ve stuck on me since Mimic. I’ll be honoured to witness, Boss.” the truthful sarcasm just kept flowing in chunks.
“Very well then. But be warned, there is an extremely high possibility that Dazai-kun will attend.” Mori-san advised me with caution.
“Why wouldn’t he be there? Dazai wouldn’t miss the fun for anything.” I laughed as I recalled my former mentor’s constant complaints of boredom and lack of fun. “So, if I’m not doing the negotiating and protecting, who will?”
“Well, the negotiating is all on me, while the protection I’ll leave to the Black Lizard commanders. Now let’s get going, it is already time.”
“Ugh, I should’ve known, you always request things of me last minute… and to leave such good wine behind like this…” I muttered to myself.
~·~
Frivolous wind made its way through my locks, disturbing their arrangement. The long coat fluttered in grace behind me, barely revealing my arsenal carefully tucked away inside.
“Welcome, Boss.”
That dreadful, familiar voice, reminding me of those dark years in the mafia, seems to wake me from my hypnosis.
“It’s been four years. Do you still wear the coat that I gave you?” came Mori-san’s response.
“Of course…” the demon jumped down from the ledge he previously sat and pondered on. “I burned it.” well isn’t that sweet and Dazai-like?
Boss only kept his innocent little features on his face, as the Black Lizard remained by his side and around me, almost mockingly protecting me from my past. Huh. As if. I step outside the ‘line of defence’, and stay beside Mori-san who seemed to mutely approve of my decision.
“Port Mafia Boss, Mori Ougai. And Executive Officer, (F/N) (L/N).”
“Armed Detective Agency Chief Executive, Fukuzawa Yukichi.”
The two approached each other with collected, cautious steps, as everybody else tensed up, excluding Dazai and myself, who are already used to these sorts of tense meetings. If anything, they’re overly dramatic.
“So the time’s finally come.” the President initiated the discussion.
“If the government brass were to find out that the leaders of the two most powerful organisations of gifted are engaged in a secret meeting, they would froth at the mouth.” Boss continued.
“I’ll get straight to business. A new member of the Agency proposed an alliance with you, the Port Mafia.”
Well that’s extravagant.
“Oh?” Boss didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. Neither was I, it was to be expected from such a small firm.
“I objected. The idea of cooperating with criminals goes against the Agency’s standards. But the proposal came from someone who, countless times, was shot, slashed and kidnapped by the Port Mafia. His words carry weight. Therefore as the leader of the Agency, I was left with no choice but to lend an ear.” Fukuzawa revealed the reason behind his presence this evening.
Let me guess that someone. The Jinko, perhaps?
“We are both in quite a difficult position.”
“I’ll get to the point.” the Agency leader proceeded. “Alliance aside, I would like to request a temporary ceasefire.”
Boss only gave out a singIe, arrogant laugh, as I simply deduced that it is not possible. Not officially.
“Have you ever read the works of Schelling?” The president was visibly confused at the change of subject. “Or perhaps of Kissinger?”
“Both of them are researchers of strategic studies.” Dazai interfered, as he stepped forward. “Taught by you-know-who.”
Hm, gonna let that part out?
“I do read Sun Tzu.” Fukuzawa added.
“There is a parallel between state warfare and the strategies of illegal organisations such as ourselves. No one exists to punish either of us, should we violate agreements. What if the Port Mafia suddenly breaks a ceasefire? What if the Agency betrays us? The party that trusted in the agreement would be the only one to suffer.”
“Under circumstances that reward the first to commit betrayal, a limited ceasefire cannot be established. The only possibility is for complete cooperation.” I finished Boss’ short speech.
“That’s also impossible.” Dazai further added.
“Indeed. The Port Mafia is an organisation of face and resentment. Many of my people have been dragged through the mud.” Boss prolonged the speech.
“Many of mine have been brought to the brink of death, as well.”
“But they didn’t die.” my eyes widened slightly as I completed the President’s sentence.
“And that is a source of great shame for the Port Mafia.” Mori-san further contributed to the discussion.
“Then how about this.” Fukuzawa revealed the katana at his belt, threateningly. “We settle our accounts here and now.”
Ooh, this is gonna be fun.
Gin and Tachihara jumped from behind me as they realised the enemy made a move to attack, but hopelessly got kicked back by the sheer force of the swing of the blade, breaking their weapons in half. Hirotsu-san simply watched along with me the high speed scene unfold, as the two leaders started slashing at each other with calculated movements and sharp blades. The force of the attacks created a much more violent wind than before, fluttering any coats surrounding the show, or loose locks of hair.
“I thought you had discarded your katana… Kokenshi Ginro Fukuzawa.” Mori-san found himself in a standing position with the enemy’s katana at his neck, and a wide, disturbing smile decorating his complex.
“And you still haven’t grown past your habit of killing people with a scalpel, Doctor Mori.” Fukuzawa, in a crouched stance, similarly found himself with a discrete yet deadly scalpel at his own neck. “You still think like a little girl.”
“Do you still talk to cats?” the mafia leader’s smile only impossibly grew, in both width and madness.
During the earlier quick exchange of metal dissonance, I kept eying the illusion-boy in the back, who, unmistakably, was using his ability this whole time. The time freeze I required to check this confirmed it all, as the President was actually far back in safety, in my ‘Icebox’. Coming back to reality, I stop the boy’s time, rendering his ability useless, much like Dazai, and watch the illusion fade away in green snow particles. Boss’ face fell in disappointment at the realisation.
“A hologram ability.”
“Easy to spot, too.” I lightly bragged.
“That was an enjoyable meeting. Let us continue it on the battlefield.” Mori-san gave his last word.
“The Agency will be recovering Q tonight.” the enemy voiced.
“And?”
“Don’t get in our way tonight. For the sake of both of us.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s our sole similarity: that we love this city. As people of this city, as organisations that work to protect it, we cannot allow foreign gifteds to raze it.”
“The Guild is powerful. The Agency stands no chance. That is all from me. Dazai-kun, the offer still stands for you to return to the executive team. You’ve got your former apprentice there too now.” Mori-san ended with that damn unreadable smile.
“No way. You’re the one who kicked me out of the Port Mafia in the first place.” Dazai explained.
So he thought the same thing as I did back then.
“Did you not quit because you wanted to?”
“You were afraid, weren’t you? That I might someday aspire to take your position and put a knife to your throat.” Dazai’s face contorted into something awfully similar in disturbance to Mori-san. “Just as you did to your predecessor.” Boss only flashed a mad smile to this fact. “Evil expects evil from others.”
He made a break for emphasis.
“I don’t agree to allying with you, either.”
~·~
The five of us made our way back to the mafia base, only for us to split towards our business. I decided to simply take a long stroll around town to calm myself, as I usually do after ‘unofficial meetings’. Since they tend to last for hours, lunch had already passed and the sun threatened to sink below the horizon when a sub sonorously requested for my presence as soon as I entered the mafia building.
“(L/N)-san, we received an urgent call from Higuchi-san soliciting a word with you.”
“Aha, probably the Dog’s behind it.”
“She sounded…desperate, worried, confused… Also there’s a cup of verbena tea in your office, if you so desire it.”
“Thanks. Dismissed.”
He scurried away at the command, leaving me pondering over this distress call. Entering my office, I sit myself at the snowy desk and take a lengthy sip of the mentioned tea. I finally pick up my phone in order to sort out whatever reason Chi-kun has to so grandly request a call with me.
“Chi-kun?”
“(L/N)-san, finally. Akutagawa-senpai was getting extremely antsy over here at your lack of response, no disrespect.” she breathed out everything, relieved.
“Well I’m here now, give me Akutagawa on the phone, it was obviously him demanding all this…”
A terse pause ensued while the two shifted the possession over the phone.
“(F/N), listen carefully. We’ve been sent out to deal with some underground thugs who held empty threats. Here’s the annoying part. The area around their hideout was littered with hasty writing, reading: ‘I will have my revenge. -Alzack the Dicer’. You killed him a week ago or so. It’s impossible for him to have written this, therefore it was someone else. They keep appearing, as we move around the area, further out. And since we literally just wiped all the scum out, someone remains.” he informed me in a hurry.
“And this someone could be extremely sneaky and skilled or you’re just too dumb to spot them.” I added with a chuckle.
“Just get over here and see for yourself. The slum gangster area.”
Ending the call, my hand finds a small round handle on my side of the desk and rolls the drawer open, revealing a few personal objects, as well as a few drawings from years ago and the necklace I swiped off Alzack’s rotting corpse. I just had a mysterious feeling I’d need it if I head out in the slums. I called for a mafia car, using my ‘amazing’ Executive powers, which drove by the slums, dropping me off at a safe distance, as to not attract unwanted attention. I plunge into the filthy district, only to find the exact image of Ryuu’s description from earlier: on any wall you’d glance at, in blood red, were written the words ‘I will have my revenge. -Alzack the Dicer’. I could see Ryuu 20 metres away from me, waving Higuchi off and rather aggressively dismissing her, telling her to leave. Yes, I could hear his yells.
As his partner takes her leave, disappointed, he advances towards my entranced figure, still pondering over the writings.
“I told you they’re everywhere. And it’s spreading. Feels worse than any disease here.” he stated rather confidently.
“I’d say the words are spreading not like a disease, but rather like an… echo.” I explained.
We proceeded to take a few steps further in the slums, only for the sounds of steps on metal rooftops to halt my movement, forcing Ryuu to halt his own. Throwing thorough glances towards the roofs of the nearly-collapsing houses, I figure the source of the sounds either stopped and is waiting to ambush, or it disappeared further in. But we were granted the answer before I even attempted to activate my Time Thief ability. A cloaked figure jumped down from a nearby top, landing in front of us in a crouched position, then standing up without hurry, giving us ample time to observe it.
It wore a short, inky trench coat, much like mine except for its length, a black hoodie underneath, with the hood on its head from under the coat, black shorts, black tights and boots just over the ankle with square heels and matching the general black pattern. The figure was short in stature, but gave off a sinister aura, comparable to mine. Well, to be honest, the figure seemed to mimic my image almost identically if not for the bob style platinum hair and scarlet eyes, revealed when it pulled off the hood. We learned that the figure was a she, from the distinctive feminine traits on her chest and the slightly plump lips, which were curled up in a provoking smirk. The horrible scar branding her left eye left me curious as to how she received it. But most of all, the first words she uttered left me with questions I was hopeless to answer.
“Hello, (F/N). Do you remember me? Of course you don’t. My name is—
—Echo.”