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- Hey, is everyone ready ?
The whispered voice echoed in the silence of the room, and its owner smirked as every other person present answered with determined nods, barely visible in the obscurity.
- Alright, then no one makes a sound. Here he comes…
The door opened in an ominous creaking and the light of the corridor illuminated the furniture, previously hidden since neither the switched off lamps nor the obstructed windows brought light to the office. In the backlight, a silhouette took a step, then another, the sound loudly resonating on the green floor tiles. It was a man, whose coat floated behind him as he drew closer to them. The newcomer stopped for a second, taken aback by the apparent lack of life in the office. His narrowed eyes scanned the room, in vain.
Concealed by the desks, seven people waited silently for the signal. A sharp gesture by the one at the front came and they all immediately jumped from their hideout. As one of them leaped towards the door to shut it, distracting the man with the coat, four quickly grabbed his arms and legs to keep him from moving. The lamps went on so suddenly that he lost precious seconds blinking, and he could only discern a woman with short dark hair and a sinister grin launching something unidentified in the air before a sticky substance covered his eyes.
- Surprise ! seven voices chorused.
Not just his eyes, actually, his entire face… And now some was falling onto his clothes and on the floor. Sticking out his tongue, he noticed that the sticky substance was oddly sweet. It almost seemed like...
- … Cake frosting ?
- Well, it’s a whole cake, but yeah, snickered a familiar feminine voice. Happy birthday, Dazai, hope you like your gift !
Birthday… ? Ah, right, today was his birthday. How his colleagues ever learnt this information was a mystery, but he understood what was going on, now. Feeling himself getting freed of the four people’s grip previously holding him, Osamu shook his head with a sneer. He then tried to open his eyes, only to shut them back right away.
- Aouch, aouch, that stings ! I have some in my eyes, he hissed, his pain only answered with laughter.
- Sorry about that, Dazai-san, Atsushi’s sheepish voice said. Don’t worry, we have another cake to eat.
- I’ll remember this, you traitors ! Even you, Atsushi-kun, who sided with them despite all the trust I had in you ! I’ll-...
- Yeah, yeah, stop whining and go wash yourself in the bathroom.
He gasped at Kunikida in feigned heartbreak and turned on his heels to leave the room. Though, as he paced towards the door, he felt the warmth of a fond smile lightening his face.
Once he had cleared it, as well as changed his vest and shirt, he came back to see that his coworkers had kept their promise and brought out a second cake. It was apparently a Japanese cheesecake, waiting to be cut on Ranpo-san’s desks - the latter who was currently talking with Naomi about something that sounded awfully like a video of the previous incident. His honor had been compromised and he wouldn’t let this slide, but that was a matter for future him. For now, everyone had gathered around the cake, ready to eat. Even the boss and Haruno had come out of the office.
- Alright, time to cut this ! Ranpo-san said, his eagerness showing obviously.
- Hey, wait a second now, we still have to sing !
- Awn, Kunikida-kun, is that really necessary ? he whined.
The taller man looked at him in pure horror, as if what he had said was an offense to his whole family, or worse, to his cherished Ideals.
- I’m not a fan of it either but that’s how it’s done.
- Ahh… Seems like Mister Prime Minister of Procedure Land is at it again.
Jumping back numbly to avoid getting choked by an angry Kunikida - believe it or not, but he wasn’t into this kind of thing -, Osamu chuckled a little. It had been a while since he had heard someone sing him happy birthday… Feeling this memory starting to crack his neutrally pleased facade, he quickly shook it out.
- Happy birthday to you ! Happy birthday to you…
The song went on until the end in a joyful cacophony, everyone singing slightly off-key and discordantly. Quite far from what he had been used to. But it made things easier, somehow.
Well, still not quite easy yet.
- Dazai-san, are you alright… ?
- Hum ? Of course, he smiled at Atsushi-kun.
The worried young man kept looking at him, clearly still dubious - something perfectly reasonable. Osamu had always taken pride in his poker face, but when it was about him , it never was as good for some reason. That damn slug. Still, faking a smile was his daily routine, and after a slight adjustment and a singsung "Don't worry, I just thought of something unpleasant", he saw his pupil relaxing a little, his concern quickly replaced by a tilted head and visible curiosity he would be too self-conscious to satisfy. Well, he wasn't so keen to answer anyway.
- Hey, Atsushi, you're on candle duty, remember ? Hurry up, I'm hungry ! Ranpo-san's voice chimed in.
- Ah, coming right away ! ... It's a bit sad to think about upsetting things on your birthday... he mumbled, more for himself than for Osamu.
- Is that upsetting thing about Nakahara-san ?
Unfortunately, Kyōka-chan was both more knowledgeable about Port Mafia dramas and less self-conscious than Atsushi. It didn't really surprise him to hear her quiet voice in this situation, but after hearing his little hatrack's name everyone else had stopped talking. They all had different reactions, from tensing up like Kunikida to somehow cheering up like Kenji but, except for the boss who had gone back to his office, all of them stared at them. Even Ranpo-san took his eyes from the cake for a few seconds.
- Well, yes, he answered without losing his cheerful tone.
- Do you dislike him so much as to think about him on your birthday ?
Poor Kunikida, so far from the truth.
- Hum, Chibikko-kun often sang happy birthday to me back then, he scoffed, remembering the insults that replaced his name in the lyrics. Quite the show… I guess I must miss it.
- Eh ?! Atsushi-kun was still staring at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, but for a different reason now. I didn’t exactly imagine Nakahara-san would be the type to sing !
- He did have a nice voice, Kyōka-chan said.
- I meant that I didn't think he would want to sing, actually…
- Well, it’s not like he had the choice to begin with ! Osamu sing-sung.
The deadpan look in everyone’s eyes was worth every yen he’d made during his time as a mafia underboss, and a low chuckle escaped from his lips. Plopping himself up on a chair, he rolled it to the nearest desk - Ranpo’s, on which the cake still remained miraculously untouched. His elder’s half-closed eyes gleamed with what he interpreted as a sparkle of interest as he drew closer to him ; and for what wasn’t the first time, Osamu almost felt like a leaf in the storm. Or rather like a page from a novel, text written black on white and completely legible despite being torn apart. That was the effect Ranpo-san’s gaze had on things. He seemed about to say something, but was cut by Atushi-kun who, surprisingly, had also gained an interest in his past :
- Say, Dazai-san, could you tell us more about… This ?
- “This” ? he teased him, knowing fully well what the young man had meant.
- I mean… I’m a little curious about your past, I guess… I still can’t understand how a good person like you was in the mafia before.
- Do you think everyone in the Port Mafia is a bad person ? he asked, his smile growing careful.
Atsushi-kun raised his eyes in surprise, before sulking slightly.
- I sure know a few of them who are…
- And I knew a few of them who aren’t.
Or weren’t, he thought, but he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to engage on that topic right now. No matter how impactful they had been, ghosts ought to stay ghosts, and the past, the past. Moreover, his self perception was acute this morning, and this was not the place, nor the time for a melodramatic scene.
Osamu took a deep breath to calm his quickening heart. Only realizing how he had lost his composure and snapped at Atsushi-kun, he glanced at the poor boy. He had expected to see some kind of hurt on his face, but it only reflected a puzzled expression, all raised eyebrows and slightly squinting eyes. He wasn’t the only one, he noticed quickly, most of his colleagues had the same inquisitive look. Frankly, he had no idea why his past intrigued them so much - it wasn’t not like his former missions were something they’d enjoy hearing about. Thankfully, a chewing noise behind them took their attention away.
- … What ? Ranpo-san asked, his mouth still dusty from powdered sugar.
- With all due respect, you could have waited for us to put the candles on !
Kunikida’s attempt to reprimand the best detective amongst them fell flat, as said detective took one more bite with a pleased hum (his slice had already been half eaten, but a glance at what was left of the cheesecake confirmed that he had generously served himself) and shot them one of his piercing gazes.
- If you want to blame someone, blame Atsushi-kun ! He’s the one who didn’t put them on. I did call him, hum ?
- Oh, no ! Logic from someone else, Kunikida-kun’s worst enemy !
- Hush, Dazai, his current partner snapped with a tone clearly indicating that he would have flipped him off, had he not been so polite.
As Atsushi-kun scrambled to put at least some candles on the rest of the cake, before borrowing a lighter from the boss to light them up, the rest of them surrounded him to pursue their semblance of an examination.
- What did you mean by “some who aren’t” ? Kunikida asked.
- That makes me realize we never asked you why you left the Mafia !
- Maybe you should rather ask why he joined it in the first place, Kenji-kun…
- Good point, Tanizaki, thank you for being one of the few sane people here.
- I don’t think I like the implication of this “one of the few”… Atsushi-kun sighed.
- Oho, is this turning into a fight~ ? It would be a shame if someone got hurt… !
- Yosano-sensei, no ! several voices chorused.
The Agency was always so noisy, so cheerful. It reminded him of the flickering light piercing through darker times, small moments of humanity tangled in between the grim daily life, the shootings, and the chilling bodies. Sinister, yet awfully fun jokes to detach oneself from the atrocities of this world. Photos taken by a surprisingly gifted bartender. Alcohol shared with comrades - no, with friends. A fond smile crawled on his face, almost genuine, then quickly disappeared as Ranpo-san's voice chimed in amongst the chaos.
- Since it’s question time, I have one. Did you intend to explain what’s going on between you and-
- Oh, fudge !
Oh, luck is on my side tonight, he thought as Atsushi-kun’s exclamation cut Ranpo and his sentence. How rare.
- What’s happening, Atsushi-kun ? Tanizaki inquired.
- …
- … Atsushi. Nakajima Atsushi, why is smoke coming from behind you ?
- I swear I have no idea of how Ranpo-san's desk caught fire !
Well, I take back what I just thought.
- WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IT CAUGHT FIRE ?! Kunikida-kun yelled so loudly the whole town must have heard him.
- I-I don't know ! I looked at Dazai-san one second and the next one it- !
- Shouldn't you put it off instead of talking ? he chimed in, grinning.
- Ah, right... Right ! Huuuh, what should I do ?!
The poor boy was completely freaking out, with reasons to do so, he guessed. The flames already licked the side of the desk, ramping from paper to paper and consuming the wood at high speed. Fire always started so quickly… A few minutes, and all it left behind was bright red embers, clashing on gray ashes and black scorching traces. Colors like this always reminded him of the past, for some reason. Familiar, and quite unpleasant. It reminded him of an old photo in the newspaper, a small truck completely burnt down. It reminded him how he had learnt about the incident just a bit too late.
- Someone get some water ! Ah, it spread to the carpet, hurry ! Tanizaki-kun said, bringing him back to the present.
What am I doing, ressassing that ?
- Naomi, go call the boss !
- Kunikida-san is right, but what about the firemen, too… ?
- We’re the Armed Detective Agency, shouldn't we be able to handle this ? Yosano-sensei came back with two bottles of water that she promptly gave to Tanizaki-kun, as well as a bottle of wine.
- That's clearly not in our qualifications and unless someone here suddenly develops the ability to control fire, or water, or anything that might actually help, it's clearly better to call some competent people.
- Aw, too bad. I really hoped I would have someone to heal after that… Well, if somehow one of you gets injured, I’ll be there ~.
The doctor shook her head in disappointment and leaned against the wall right next to Osamu, handing him a glass that he took with a smile. They both raised a toast. To what ? He didn’t know.
The rest of them tried to put off the fire, alas uselessly. Those carpets hadn’t been a great idea, it seemed, and soon enough the smoke was so thick that they understood their powerlessness. Some must have reached the corridor, as the fire alarm started blaring at that exact moment. Well, it settled the debate about whether to call the fire department or not, as they were instantly notified when one of those alarms went on. He took a sip of his glass, intrigued about the new development.
- What in hell is happening here ? the boss hissed, his voice booming in the chaos despite not having been raised.
Of course, he had to answer, this was a golden occasion that he couldn’t let slide.
- Atsushi-kun set the office on fire !
- I-I’m sorry ! It was an accident !
The boss glared at the both of them, before sighing deeply - and Osamu almost felt some guilt about his own cheerful tone and expression.
- I imagine the firemen are on their way. Let’s leave.
Osamu exhaled a low hum while observing Kunikida-kun, Atsushi-kun and some others as they grabbed their most valued belongings. Wasn’t it quite amusing how, despite knowing they should hurry to exit and get away from the raging flames, people always spat on reason in these situations ? They couldn’t bear the thought of letting what they owned turn to dust, it seemed. Not two of them wanted to save the same thing, but they were all similar in that wish to preserve. They said people’s true nature shone in dire circumstances, and Osamu believed it was true.
They left one by one, some going through the office door without looking back, some doing so.
- Shouldn’t we be more anxious about the Agency’s office getting destroyed ? Atsushi-kun said, being one of them. He squeezed his bag against his chest, throat tightening in some blatant mixture of guild and fright.
- I mean, you’re not wrong, but… Honestly, I think it was bound to happen sooner or later.
- Nii-sama is right, it’s not like this never happened. Don’t worry too much !
- Excuse me ? “Don’t worry too much” ?! You’re clearly not the one who’ll have to send yet another apology email ! Are none of you aware of how much it’s throwing my planning off ?
- C’mon, Kunikida-kun ~. Don’t yell so loudly, people are watching us weirdly ! Osamu scoffed, although his shrieks had had the merit to lighten the mood.
- Hah, like all the time, most of it being your damn fault ! And also, I’M NOT YELLING !
- Yes you are, so be quieter, I’m trying to finish this cake in peace.
- … Sorry, Ranpo-san, his partner apologized to the pouting detective.
Osamu looked askance, gazing at the five familiar black towers that dominated the city. It was only about ten in the morning, but it wasn’t like they could go back to work with that fire inside, right ? Plus, missing some days of work wasn’t new to him, the worse he would have to face would be a sermon from Kunikida-kun that he would easily tune out. He let his colleagues behind him, the sound of their agitated discussion fading away, among the background noises with each step he took.
Atsushi laughed nervously at the newest dispute between his Agency colleagues. This one was about the many complaints they received each day, most of them because of Dazai-san just as Kunikida-san as said earlier. He couldn’t really deny it, but he didn’t really have any right to criticize the older man after everything he had done to help him, right… ? He supposed staying out of this one would be better. Weirdly, the main interested party didn’t pipe a word to defend himself, unlike what he usually did. Turning around, he quickly understood why by noticing Dazai-san’s absence.
- Wait, where is Dazai-san ?
- Hum ? Oh, I did think it became quieter, all of a sudden, Yosano-san said, checking around her as well.
- Where did this sorry waste of good bandages go, again ?
A silence fell after Kunikida-san’s question, only broken by Kyōka-chan’s little voice.
- Should we go check the river ?
- Nah, it’s fine, this man’s unkillable. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.
If the doctor of the Agency said so, it must have been right, but the nonchalance they all had about this never failed to take him aback.
As for her, Kyōka nodded silently. After all, during the few months she had spent under Akutagawa-san’s supervision, she had had plenty of occasions to hear about Dazai-san’s tendencies. From his former subordinate, of course, but also by almost everyone else. Four years later, he was still somewhat of a legend down there. Maybe even more than when he had been part of the Mafia, she thought, since after all someone leaving such an organization would make a lot of noise. Sometimes, Kyōka wondered if they talked about her. She hoped not.
- Talking about Dazai, am I the only one wondering what’s his deal with that gravity wielder ? They aren’t exactly known for getting along when they were partners, right ? But, earlier…
- You mean that look on Dazai’s face ? Kunikida-san answered Yosano-sensei. I also thought he looked odd at that time.
- Well, doesn’t he always ? Tanizaki-san scratched his neck, looking doubtful, and everyone seemed to agree.
- The reason it looked odd… Maybe it’s because unlike most of the time, we got a glance at his true feelings… she started. A few pairs of eyes turned to her, like they expected her to divulge something, and Kyōka thought about it for a few seconds… but this information wasn’t hers to reveal. Just an impression.
- I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me if you were right, Atsushi-san said, and it took all of her self control to not spill everything on the spot.
- Oh, this reminds me that I already talked about it with Mister Nakahara, once ! Kenji-kun added in his usual gleeful voice. He said Dazai-san’s name a few times when we were chatting, but as soon as I asked him about it, he just did that reeeaaally long sigh !
- Wait, what ? When did you even chat with that guy ? Yosano-sensei asked with a legitimate surprise.
- When he treated me to lunch, of course !
- When he what, now ? Kenji-kun, he’s part of the Mafia ! You can’t just hang out with him like that !
- But he’s always been very nice to me… ?
Tanizaki-san looked at Kenji-kun like he didn’t understand how the latter could even believe that. She thought about it, trying to remember what she knew about the mafioso, which wasn’t a lot, she figured. Aside from the fact that he was an underboss, and one of, if not the best fighter in the organization, she had also heard a lot about his legendary temperament, though she hadn’t had the occasion to cross paths with the man herself. But, she also remembered his subordinates claiming that their boss wasn’t nearly as cruel as some others were, so maybe it wasn’t that weird.
- He may be one of those “Port Mafia good persons” Dazai-san talked about.
- Well, maybe… When we saw him that one time, he didn’t seem unreasonable despite his brash behavior, Yosano-sensei admitted to her. But it still doesn’t explain a thing about Dazai’s behavior, they still hated each other’s guts.
- Hey, I have an idea ! Let’s just ask Ranpo-san what he thinks about it !
- Good idea, Atsushi-san, or it would be if he hadn’t left because he accidentally dropped his glasses while we exited the office, Naomi-san said.
The older boy sighed, looking like he had been completely defeated.
The sun was setting down, and now the towers casted their shadow, spreading their darkness further and further on Yokohama. On the other side of the city, in one of those little alleys parents tell their children not to go to, Osamu walked in silence. He wasn't a child, after all, and had no parents to warn him about the dangers roaming in the downtown streets, so he strode fully at ease, although with a hint of caution. This had been his territory, and he knew some people who wouldn't be too keen on seeing him here again. Nothing he couldn't deal with of course, but he'd rather save himself the hassle. Trying to escape from Kunikida and the others had been enough of that.
Humming a familiar melody under his breath, he took a few more turns before stopping under a well-known white, black and red ensign. Night hadn't fully fallen yet, but the pathway seemed bathed in the same odd obscurity as always. He pushed the door, revealing the grim hallway he used to walk down with a pleasant expectation, but now only awoke a bitter indifference in his heart. As he arrived at the end of this corridor, he went down the flock of stairs that led to the underground pub room.
- Welcome, the old bartender greeted him, raising a brow as he recognized him - after all, Osamu still came here from times to times.
Answering with a half smile, he leaned against the doorframe and glanced around the room, seeking bright ginger hair hidden by a hat. The small silhouette clad in a dark coat he was looking for sat on a barstool, idly playing with his glass of wine. He was making the deep red liquid spin in the glass and seemed to watch with a keen attention how the light reflected on it. Osamu silently observed his former partner, and seeing how he wasn’t completely wasted yet, decided he would come back later to carry him back to the Port Mafia. He was about to leave when he heard a well-known tune that made him freeze in his tracks.
- Happy birthday… To you… Happy birthday to… you…
Hum, for him to sing like that… I guess he’s drunker than he seems.
His eyes closed and he leaned further against the wall, as he remembered with a scoff how he had, quite accidentally, discovered his little slug’s singing abilities. It had been a normal evening, right after a mission, and both Chūya and him had ended up completely exhausted. Not that it had been hard or anything. It had just been long, and boring, and so, so dreary that all of their energy had disappeared into thin air. So, of course it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that both of them had slightly let their guard down.
It had been enough for Chibikko-kun to indulge in a long shower in the small hotel bathroom where they had had to stay for the night - and to sing some invented melody along with the running water while Osamu had left to buy dinner. Enough for himself to forget to knock before entering the room - and to hear said invented melody through the poorly isolated wall, and then even better when the bathroom door had opened. It had been very awkward for both of them. Well, especially for Chūya , he supposed. But as much as he hated to admit it, he had spent a few seconds too many staring in awe, so the memory wasn’t exactly shameless for Osamu either.
However, what had been only, and fully mortifying for his former partner was that most of the Mafia had somehow learnt about this. He had absolutely no involvement whatsoever with it, of course. While it hadn’t been the most thoughtful course of action - he still remembered Odasaku’s half-amused, half-disapproving glare after he had told him and also everyone else - it had led to many entertaining scenes where Chūya had been keenly asked to sing for birthdays and so on. Combined with the fact that it had allowed the red-head to grow more confident about it, he couldn’t say he regretted spilling the beans.
Osamu blinked suddenly, his eyes darting to the antique clock stuck in a corner. About two minutes had passed, and he mentally slapped himself for drifting away in his memories like this. A glance at the bar confirmed that his former partner still played with his now almost finished drink, and he inhaled sharply… He could thank the darkness reigning in the pub for hiding him. After a last second spent observing, he turned away. He would come back later, not in such a long time, just enough for Chūya to pass out like he always ended up doing.
So, he exited the room, ignoring what took place behind him. If he hadn’t, perhaps, and if fond and sour thoughts didn’t fill his mind, he could have noticed bright ginger hair swifting, blue eyes locking on his back, and the gulp of hardly swallowed wine.
- Another one… Please. Not the same, though. Make it… Make it a whisky. He tugged on his collar, as if looking for air. Think I’mma need something strong.