Archive of Our Own

6 years before:
Port Mafia Headquartes.

"I've had enough."

All that it took to make Dazai motionless on the spot was a phrase: a simple, stupid, phrase composed by three words. A phrase that he heard many, too many times, make it way out from his partner's mouth, between barks and growls, when he wanted to have the last word in an argument where clearly he couldn't win. It wasn't obviously the first time that the two of them had a bickering, even all the Port Mafia knew how it worked between them: essentially it was a pretty normal situation, which Dazai was used to it very well.

But-

"What have you just said? I might heard wrong, right? Yes, that certainly must be the case." The brunet tapped his right ear lightly with the tip of his forefinger. "Unfortunately Chuuya, it's not your fault if your slug-like height prevents your vocal cords from exerting the necessary force to get your words to my ears."

"Stop fucking around, Dazai." the tone of redhead was sharp and cold as a razor blade, same thing for his gaze, which at that moment seemed to communicate only one thought: I'm fucking serious. "We both know that you understood perfectly well what I've just said."

"Chuuya you can't-" Dazai dared to take a step forward but he was stopped instantly: the sole of his shoe had managed to rest only the underlying rise of the heel on the ground before being stopped by a small crater, big as the size of a tennis ball and no deeper than a few centimeters from the ground, formed at that precise moment. For a second Dazai thought that the crater was an extremely lively addition to the pavement, but he didn't said it aloud.

"I've had enough: I'm gonna leave the Port Mafia and with it, everything related to this organization."

The power of words was truly something extremely frightening, Dazai knew this very well: not surprisingly, he was called the 'Demon Podigy' not only thanks to his intellectual abilities capable of alerting even the most cunning opponents but also thanks to his frightening communication skills, capable of manipulating reality and lies as if they were the same concept and, last but not least, to his ability to analyze the surroundings with a particular meticulousness, similar to a computer processor. Ready to foresee different scenarios along with impeccable solutions.

Apparently Chuuya had managed to create a flaw, an uncalculated error, unpredictable even for the fearsome prodigy Dazai Osamu, now silent, motionless, as if his brain was doing a quick reboot of the system, trying in every way to find a solution for this annoying bug. Dazai unleashed a sharp glare, equal to that of the shortie in front of him.

"Chuuya, are you sure you're not on some acid?" in contradiction of his eyes, or rather, of his visible eye, not hidden by the bandages, his tone of voice had remained the same: nonchalant and light-hearted. "If you had a clear mind right now, even someone like you would realize that what you've just said could, inevitably, be one of the most absurd things that ever came out of your mouth, isn't that right?"

Red and shiny eyes, smells out of place, repressed tremors-... Dazai was scrutinizing carefully, almost maniacally, for signs, even the slightest hints, that could prove his theory.

Because as always he would have found the solution, as always the situation would have turned out as he planned and as always he would have once again proved his infallibility.

Chuuya's expression had remained the same, far too impassive and firm to result in a wavering state: alert eyes, ready to attack at the first false step that the other could make. It was the same look that the boy reserved for those poor unfortunate souls who happened to be his enemies, especially those who committed major and heavy atrocities, almost at the limit of human capabilities, capable of sickening even an average rank member of the the Port Mafia like Chuuya.

"You have to remain a dickhead until the end, then fine." the redhead took one step, then another, both heavy as lead. "As always, I have to teach you a lesson before I'm able to put any type of information into your damned head full of bullshit." a faint red aura began to appear around him.

Dazai sighed, suddenly feeling that little spark of emotion leave his body, almost bored by how predictable his partner's actions could be: first Chuuya would pick up some speed, helped by his ability 'For the Tainted Sorrow' to be as fast as a bullet, therefore difficult to perceive, then ready to deliver a punch, strictly with the right hand, aimed at Dazai's face.

Obviously Dazai dodged the blow, almost nonchalantly by simply lowering his torso, crouching down. "You're getting boring Chuuya." he said exhaling another sigh of boredom, busy blocking the boy's left ankle above him with his right hand. "It surprises me how no one has managed to kill you so far, you know? You always use the same moves, the same threats, as if you were following a modus operandi carved into your brain: basically, you're predictable."

The reddish aura that had formed around Chuuya began to gradually disappear, dominated by the most irritating ability that can exist for every ability user: 'No Longer Human', the ability to cancel another ability with a single touch. To complete the job, Dazai abruptly jerked the redhead's immobilized ankle, causing him to lose stability, generating a fairly strong thud caused by the encounter between Chuuya's forehead and the tiled floor, with the addition of a slight echo produced by the corridor which, according to Dazai, added a "dramatic" touch to the whole situation, making it almost theatrical.

"Oh! So Chuuya has something in his head after all!~" the brunet changed his tone in no time at all, as if he had an internal switch inside him, capable of making him totally change his personality within a few seconds. He turned with a movement towards Chuuya, resting his arms on his knees, holding his face with both hands, satisfied with his work. "You must be grateful to me, you know, Chuuya? You're lucky it was me who knocked you out, because if it was someone else here with you, with at least a ninety-five percent chance, you would've been surrounded and riddled with a myriad of bullets within seconds after having said that nonsensical phrase." Dazai noticed that Chuuya was about to speak but maneged to silence him in no time. "And no, I can guarantee you, you wouldn't had time to activate your ability, after all I remind you that even walls have eyes and ears." Dazai averted his gaze towards one of the myriad of cameras, hidden and not, present throughout the floor: those things were connected to the central control room. One more false move and a hunt would have begun inside the Port Mafia.

"Anyway don't worry, I'll explain to the Boss that you were in a delirious state because of too much working stress, maybe I could even put a good word to let you have a few days off." his eye returned to Chuuya. "No need to thank-"

Except, Chuuya wasn't on the floor anymore.

He had been distracted at max, what must have been, five seconds staring into the void and now that evil dwarf was gone! He couldn't have vanished into thin air: Chuuya was by nature someone who made himself heard, whatever he did, and certainly running away stealthily didn't really fit into his range of skills. His ability. It was the only plausible solution that Dazai could think of: modifying the weight of his body with gravity in order to make it much lighter, so much to make it float a few centimeters from the ground until he was able to escape without doing the minimum sound. Yes, this was the strategy Chuuya used.

"I'm fucking tired of your games." the fugitive's voice came from behind. Dazai tried to turn around as quickly as possible but was preceded and stopped by a kick before he could get up: the blow came with brutal force, but still at the limit of the bearable, on his back. Despite the nagging pain Dazai managed to half turn around, ending up the next moment under the sole of Chuuya's left shoe, which was well pressed onto his stomach, keeping him firmly on the ground. "I hate to admit it but your hyper attention to everything around you has given me little time and little choice to decide how to escape from your bloody clutches, but apparently it worked."

Dazai was pinned to the floor: the shock of the fall, mixed with the brute force that contained that sort of chihuahua had been enough to make him lose most of the strenght in both his legs and arms: for a few seconds in that anonymous and sad corridor there was only silence, which was broken almost immediately by a terrifying sound. "Pff...hahaha!" a laugh of pure amusement came out of the brunet's mouth. Chuuya opened his eyes, amazed to hear that sound so unnatural and above all not fake (at least he thought) coming out of that mouth full of lies. Truth to be told, he always thought that Dazai, that stinky mackarel, didn't even have the ability to laugh. His foot applied some pressure. "Haha!- Ouch-... Ouch! Chuuya you're hurting me-" Dazai felt breathless for a moment but that sensation lasted only a few moments: upon hearing an irritated snap of tongue from the redhead and that suffocating pressure disappear, Dazai started to regulate his breathing again. The damned chibi felt magnanimous enough to not killing him, at least not yet.

"Look, has anyone ever told you that you're creepy as hell when you laugh?" Chuuya uttered that sentence almost disgusted, turning his blue eyes, sharp again but still with a hint of astonishment, on the beanpole below him. "How evil Chuuya, is this how you repay the best 2 years of friendship of your life?" Dazai began to speak in the same tone he used when he enjoyed teasing the older one. "Trying to kill me to facilitate your 'firing' from the Port Mafia?"

That grin. That damned grin. It was like dealing with the devil himself: that bastard had purposely said the last sentence out loud, just to alert the people behind the cameras, raising the bar of risk. Dazai's plan was flowing smoothly: he was trapped, it was only up to Chuuya to decide whether or not to become the sacrifical lamb, at the complete mercy of the other, of the Port Mafia or to attempt the impossible and risking to be killed.

Obviously he chose the second option.

After almost four months from the incident with Verlaine, 'The King of Assassins', now locked up in the dungeons of the organization, Chuuya had the opportunity to reflect. Since he had crossed his path with the Port Mafia he realized how all the events that followed after have been almost disastrous, both physically and emotionally: the betrayal of the 'Sheep', the whole Rimbaud situation, the discovery of his origins, the death of the few boys he considered his friends: 'The Flags', died atrociously by Verlaine's hands. At the core of all these events there was a single cause.

Chuuya.

He had had enough of dragging his misfortunes onto the shoulders of other people, who were stained as if it were a curse, ending up being reaped by Death itself. As if their only fault was to have ties of all sorts, even the thinnest and insignificant one, with Chuuya. It was exhausting to have the constant internal fear that people close to you could die at any given moment because of some, who knows what, unfinished business: all he really wanted was some peace, to be able to stop for just a second from all the tasks that he had to do, to try to live, for what he could, a teenage life. Obviously nothing could've ever erase what he himself had done under the Port Mafia and before that when he was still the head of the 'Sheep' and he certainly had no intention of doing so: his hands were clearly covered in blood, which belonged to hundreds of people, killed undoubtedly by his physical attacks and ability.

Did he regret it? No.

Everything he had done in these two years he did it by following, before the orders from the upper floors, his conscience, his moral compass: they were all his choices. Even now, his decision to cut his ties with the Port Mafia was his own: he had come to the end of a book, written with blood and sweat, that announced the beginning of a new volume. A new story but with the same protagonist. However, as is well known, an author has to face the criticisms of his audience, both good and bad, and not all innovations are always well accepted by everyone in the audience. In this case, Dazai was the literary critic who was trying to have the last word on Chuuya's works, trying to persuade him with rather irritating schemes to not changing the plot of the story, to warn him to not try in any way to cross the fine line that there was between the idea and the act, because surely there would have been big consequences.

"Kill you?" the boy lowered his torso slightly, eyes still fixed on his target. "As much as I want to erase that sadistic and perverted grin on your face with acid, right now it wouldn't give me any satisfaction." he lifted his foot, noting the obvious stain left by the sole of his shoe on Dazai's shirt. "Plus, I've decided that once I'll leave the Port Mafia, I won't kill ever again."

Apparently Chuuya had been promoted to comedian of the year at that precise moment, if before Dazai had only hinted a laugh, now he was completely gone with his head: big fat laughs came out of his mouth without end, accompanied by a single tear, a real tear, that was rolling down his left eye and, to make things worse, after a couple of minutes he wrapped his arms around his stomach to show how much it was hurting from laughter, coughing two or three times from lack of oxygen . It was truly terrifying.

"You would like-!" a laugh. "You're saying what-!" another laugh. "You'll definitely get yourself killed-!" and yet another laugh. Chuuya tried to remain impassive by exercising all the calmness he could have in his body in front of that little theater staged by that idiot but inside he admitted he felt small shivers down his spine, but only for a second. Not surprisingly, he got tired really easily of all this bullshit and, above all, the limit of tolerance he had for Dazai was really low. Chuuya jerked that good-for-nothing by the collar of his shirt, putting him back on his feet. "Can you shut up for once in your life?!" he yelled with a force to be envied by loudspeakers and capable of almost completely placating those absurd, chilling laughter.

"I know I just said killing you wouldn't give me any satisfaction, but I swear I might change my mind if you don't shut the fuck up right now!" the voice held a feeling of anger so intense that Dazai swore he could see it and, clearly, who was he to not increase that already burning fire, maybe by turning it into a bigger fire that could completely burn them both.

"You're out of your mind, Chuuya." Dazai's voice was flat, monotonous, emotionless. "The dice has been rolled and the results have been clear for two years now, you can't revisit a game that you've already lost." Dazai's icy hand rested on top of the other boy's hand who, on the contrary, gave off a lively warmth, a human warmth. "This is your life now. You have sworn loyality to the Boss and consequently to the Port Mafia: it's too late to rethink about everything that happened and how you could have acted in certain situations. Stop wondering what is right or wrong because speaking frankly, who can grasp the real difference between the two concepts?"

That hand was cadaverous, surprisingly consistent with the person who was Dazai: a human being who considered himself no longer human among the living. Chuuya shoved Dazai backward, pushing him away from him.

"Weren't you the 'Demon Prodigy' between the two of us? You should know the answer better than I do." Chuuya pointed to his head. "Our conscience is what dictates our morals." Dazai let out yet another exasperated sigh, now almost irritated. "Hello ray of light, you have discovered hot water!" for a moment the brunette was sorry for the other's simplicity of thought. "Conscience undoubtedly conditions our actions but you must know that it too is determined by external stimuli, whether they are actions or words, our mind continuously stores information. What is right for you could be in contrast with what is right according to another person: this is how arguments are created, my dear simpleton. If we all perceived the same concepts of right and wrong many deaths would have been avoided throughout history, am I not right?."

Chuuya didn't speak for a moment, limiting himself to exhale a long sigh. "I don't-- you know what? Reasoning with you is a waste of time, I'm sick and tired of wasting my precious oxygen on someone like you." he began to walk towards Dazai. "My decision won't change." then, when he found himself side by side with the other, Chuuya stopped walking, without looking at him. "If you intend to tell the Boss, I don't care: he can send the whole Port Mafia against me, I will completely destroy all of it." and with this promise he re-started walking away, placing his gloved hands in the front pockets of his trousers.

"Stop you? Oh no, I would never dare to try." Chuuya didn't even need to turn around to see the smile that had formed on that stupid face that in that moment begged to be slapped. "What would be the fun, then? I really want to see what you can come up with!" Dazai turned around, facing the direction that the little guy was walking by. "In fact! I'll tell you more: you will have free access to the Port Mafia's Top Secret informations vault! Obviously I don't mean the real one, but this one." he pointed his head. "My personal mental safe! It doesn't look like it but it contains really important secrets. Isn't that great, Chuuya? I'm lending you my help even though I still think it's an absurd, suicidal plan!"

Dazai's tone of voice was slowly turning into something more and more sadistic, irritating and unhealthy as the seconds went by, as if he considered this whole thing a stupid game, a pastime to not get bored. One thing that Chuuya had understood in these two years was that the guy loved more than anything else seeing his opponents fall into the tangled web of truth and lies that he had meticulously woven over time: it was a twisted entertainment that only he could enjoy . Chuuya had slipped away all the bullshits that Dazai was spewing on him, shaking his shoulders irritably, as if he had an annoying mosquito that was circling continuously around him: it was certainly not some kind of new for him to know that Dazai was aware of most of the affairs that happened both inside and outside the organization, after all the Boss was particularly keen to know all the news of the moment and Dazai was the perfect candidate for this type of job. Despite this, Chuuya himself had his own set of secret informations that should have been buried into his grave along with him.

"Fuck you."

That were the only two words he reserved for the bastard, flashing him a middle finger as an extra. "You're making a big mistake in underestimating my abilities, not everything can always go according to your plans, you asshole." he called the elevator by pressing the service button in the center of the panel with his finger.

Dazai, who so far had only been watching, also began to walk but in the opposite direction, ready to head to the higher floors. "I'm not underestimating you at all, slug: if you really were mediocre I would have eliminated you a long time ago along with the rest of the 'Sheep', I certainly would have saved myself some extra work hours." Chuuya didn't turn around, it would've been stupid to react to such an obvious provocation but he promised himself that he will get his revenge, maybe in future. "Remember: you can always try to escape and if you succeed, which is highly unlikely, you can never fully escape the Port Mafia's shadows, they are everywhere, ready to devour you at any moment." the elevator finally came with a ting, opening. Dazai turned a little, just to give a quick, amused but at the same time defiant look at Chuuya. "Besides you know, dogs will always find themselves needing their master."

Damned sick bastard.

Chuuya entered inside and the sliding doors of the elevator closed, as it did their conversation.

__________

2 years after:
Bar Lupin.

"--And after that, do you know what happened? Absolutely nothing! Two years later and still no development in that petulant chihuahua's escape plan, I'm sooooo bored AaaAAh..."

The bar chair Dazai was sitting in spun slightly as he reached out to stretch his arms, leaning left and right feeling a few bones snap back into their right place.

"He carried on with his duties as usual, never acted unusual in front of Mori-san and although I kept providing him, modestly, phenomenal ideas he never brought up the argument again after that time. Was it all a bluff? Nah, that's not possible, Chuuya sucks at lying."

Dazai let out a long sigh as he rested his right cheek on the smooth, cold surface of the counter, swinging his arms back and forth in an irregular rhythm.

"Odasaku, what do you think about this?"

The man next to him, a few years older than Dazai, set his now empty glass of whiskey down on the counter.

"Oh? Ah-" he looked around finding his drinking buddy much more similar to a slime: that's how Kousuke called a mini boss of a video game that he had shown him in the last few days and Dazai in that moment reminded him a lot like one. "I've honestly never had a conversation outside of work hours with that guy, but he seems like a someone responsable."

Dazai grumbled, clearly annoyed that his friend gave Chuuya free and undeserved compliments. "Odasaku you can't be serious! He's anything but a diligent boy." the brunet jumped from his chair like a hare, starting to make rough movements, funny at times, Oda thought, waving his arms and legs. "Chuuya absolutely doesn't think with his head! His idea of the plan is breaking in with some kind of theatrical entrances and fight as soon as he finds the opportunity, like this!"

The boy performed a faithful imitation, exaggerating to represent some behaviors of his partner. "Wah! I'll make you eat my studded shoe- Ouch! That hurts- " Dazai for a moment felt his legs beg him for mercy for all that useless and unsolicited physical activity. "How the hell is he so stretchy?" he whispered with a little bit of jealousy towards Chuuya's physical prowess before sitting down again. "Either way he's a really annoying partner- I'm surprised you've survived missions organized by him, especially now that he received a small promotion from Mori-san that allows him to manage and captain multiple teams together." Dazai felt truly pitiful for his friend.

"Actually Dazai, I have to say that even though Nakahara is only eighteen years old, he is very professional." Oda called the bartender, requesting to have a little more whiskey poured into his glass, thanking him afterwards. "Those rare times I happened to be in a team managed by him, obviously I was never in the front rows and I was limited to clean up the afterwards together with other mens, a simple job suitable for a handyman like me." the man raised the small glass by shaking it slightly. "Even if I watched him from the rear, he always gave me the impression of a guy who knows his businesses: you wouldn't tell it at first sight but he's a good leader."

Ironic, thought Dazai: inside the Port Mafia it was certainly not new that rumors circulated in no time at the first new piece of information that crossed the thresholds of the organization but these were modified as the days went by, even years, without ever giving a clear vision of truth. Even Odasaku's ears in these years must heard the rumors about Chuuya, even thanks to that hatrack's ability to climb rank after rank within a few months, but obviously it was not possible to guarantee how much truth was actually contained in those rumors.

"You are praising him too much, Odasaku."

"Dazai, that boy seems to have been through a lot, you should give him some credit once in a while." Oda's gaze rested on the figure of the boy in front of him, not expecting a confused Dazai, who stared straight into his eyes without saying anything, as if he was waiting for an explanation to his absurd statement, Oda decided to use the same tone he used to scold the younger children. "You two have the same age, you are his partner and first of all, his friend. You have been through a lot together and I guarantee you, the past missions of the Double Black are much talked about among the low-ranking employees of the Port Mafia."

Dazai began to feel sick at the thought of Oda calling him Chuuya's friend. "Dazai, even if you don't admit it directly, you're worrying about him."

Now he wanted to throw up, really bad even.

He worried about Chuuya? Absurd, his wasn't "concern" it was much more like "I don't want him to die just because he's fun to tease and it would be a bummer to go back to do twice as much work on missions" plus, on a more professional side, Chuuya with Corruption, was currently one of the major forces at disposal of the Port Mafia, Dazai was simply his lifesaver. Of course, somewhere VERY deep inside his head he admitted that during their little "adventures" which involved inventing some cocktails by mixing different drinks and mystical journeys with some joint or narcotics that Dazai got from who knows where , a strange feeling manifested itself inside him, he couldn't give it a name but he only knew that it was strangely warm and annoying. Both ways it always ended up with one, or both, in some alley or in some bar's bathroom throwing up their soul.

"Odasakuu, you want to make me sick tonight!" Dazai began to shiver as he wrapped his arms around himself. "First you praise Chuuya and then you even call me his friend! Look, I'm shaking from how sick I am, I think I'm about to pass out!" Oda didn't answer, he hinted a simple laugh shaking his head slightly, then drinking the whiskey, left abandoned from before.

"Going back to the main topic, I too think that placing the resignation letter directly on the desk of the Port Mafia's Boss is not one of the best choices, now or never."

Dazai thanked Odasaku to be the only person who could think rationally in that room, besides him.

"But in the end, it's a choice he made and we can't help it: if he's really determined to escape, I think he'll find a way, I don't take away the fact that it's a lot risky but not impossible either."

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

"It's not true." Oda placed the glass back on the counter, this time giving his friend his full attention. "I mean, the human mind is so easy to manipulate, maybe- MAYBE I CAN! I would definitely be able to change his mind! So, look-" Dazai grabbed a napkin and a pen, kindly lent to him by the bartender, starting to write word upon word, readable and not, accompanied by explanatory scribbles, showing everything to Oda.

"See? This way I could blackmail him and-"

"Dazai."

"What?"

"Enough."

Oda slowly stretched out his hands, taking away the napkin and pen from Dazai, moving them away from him.

"Excuse me?" the boy was dumbfounded, only able to watch Odasaku's actions, unable to understand what he had done wrong. "What do you mean?"

"Dazai, you can't interfere in other people's decisions." Dazai looked at him confused, as if Odasaku had just told him that the moon is made of cheese, nonsense. "Of course I can! It's a foolproof strategy, it's what I do best. As I said I have connections, I can-" Dazai winced slightly as he felt two hands with a firm grip on his shoulders: they emanated warmth, like Chuuya's but it was different. "We're talking about your partner's decisions Dazai, you can't think that using blackmail is the best solution to change his mind." Oda noticed Dazai's strange stiffening only after he finished speaking, immediately letting him go. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Dazai shook his head, signaling to the older that there was nothing to worry about.

Liar.

For a strange reason he thought he just heard Chuuya scolding him inside his head: kinda creepy.

Dazai turned back to the counter but with an ambiguous expression. "Blackmail or not, the consequences he will suffer once he leaves the Port Mafia will be enormous." Oda's attention was captured by this last statement and Dazai didn't need to turn around to understand it. "The price to pay will be the heads of the 'Sheep' and his life, of course." the boy raised his glass, looking into it for a long time, as if the ice sphere inside contained all the answers in the world. "And do you know what's the funniest part? It was Chuuya himself who put down the conditions with the Boss in case he tried to escape." there was a hint of a faint laugh. "Raising enormously the bar just to prove his loyalty to an organization that tried to get in his way from the start. Really crazy, something only Chuuya could have done." Oda had a sudden revelation after that sentence.

"Dazai, you're simply trying to protect-"

The bell attached above the front door of the bar tinkled.

A soaked man appeared inside the bar, one that Dazai and Odasaku knew well, the same man that had decided to join them as their drinking buddy a few months ago.

"Ango! You've finally arrived." Dazai's mood changed from zero to a hundred in no time, forgetting all of the sudden what he was talking about with Odasaku, and even his drink. "Ugh- Angoo! You smell like a wet dog. Did you roll in a puddle on the way here to cover the smell of some corpse?" Ango gave the boy a sharp look, definitely not amused by what he had just heard. "No Dazai, I just got back from a business meeting." the man sat down showing a half-destroyed umbrella. "AsI was getting here, halfway through it started to rain, heavily, and the wind didn't help at all and ended up causing this, I'm sure you two can figure out the rest for yourself."

Dazai got up from his chair inspecting the conditions of that poor unfortunate man at 360 degrees, Oda followed that strange little theater without saying a word. "Oh? And what's in here?" the attention of the younger one was captured by the modestly sized leather suitcase that Ango was holding in his hand, there was certainly something important inside. Ango didn't even have the time to protest that Dazai had quickly took the suitcase from under his nose, showing him a victorious and smug grin.

"Dazai-!"

"Oh come on Ango, it's not fair to come back from a secret meeting without showing the treasures you got to your only two friends, that's a bit hypocritical." Dazai's eye sparkled with curiosity, turning towards Oda. "Aren't you curious too, Odasaku?" at that moment Oda was torn between telling his young friend to give back the suitcase to Ango and drop the matter or to listen to Dazai. His curiosity got the better of him. "Yes, actually I'm curious too." Dazai's smug chuckle made Ango even more irritated. "You shouldn't agree with him Oda! Besides, what does it mean you're my only- Ah, be careful with those nasty hands! Inside there are delicate items." Dazai listened (halfway) to the other's words and opened the suitcase but as soon as he saw what was inside all his expectations of finding top-secret things plummeted dramatically. In the center there was a bottle of wine that occupied half of the space, it was a valuable brand and Dazai understood it from the name that looked more like a tongue twister than a word in French and from the damn flashy and tacky label. The other things inside were trivial: a stylus pen, some slightly wet rolls of money and the umbrella's protective fabric sheath, even that slightly wet, which was used to protect it, now completely useless since that poor object had been broken in two different pieces by the wind.

"Listen, Ango, was your client by any chance the owner of some clandestine wine shop? I understand he might not have money problems, but at the same time it seems a bit silly of him to agree to exchange sensitive information by giving you this luxury bottle without wanting nothing in return. All the money you prepared to extort informations from him were useless." Ango finally decided to sit down, ordering a coffee. "You're actually seeing the picture in the wrong way Dazai, but I can tell you that my client was an important figure, not the owner of some random wine shop." it was a matter of minutes for Dazai to understand the truth. "Oh! So this is what happened: there was an exchange of informations from both sides and the money you have inside the suitcase is actually your pay, but I still don't understand why giving you this tacky bottle as a gift, you don't even drink wine, let alone fine ones."

A small smile formed on Ango's lips. "Let's say it's an additional gift to compensate my work, in truth I was thinking of giving it to the owner of this bar since I wouldn't do anything with it, plus putting it on a shelf in my apartment to let it accumulate dust would not seem logical to me." Dazai and Odasaku looked at each other as if they had just seen a mystical creature: Ango didn't show smiles often, except for simple courtesy towards his clients, but this was different. "So Ango is actually a good person." said Dazai, supported by nods of agreement from Oda. "What do you mean by that?! For what kind of person did you two take me for?!"

The evening went on with discussions of various kinds between the three of them: they talked about Oda's solo missions, which in Dazai's eyes seemed the most exciting thing in the world and also by reliving memories of the past, for example how Ango had somehow become their drinking buddy.

"Before I arrived here what were you two talking about?" asked Ango. An amused grin formed on Dazai's lips, revealing a minimum hint of melancholy.

"We were discussing on how Chihuahuas are difficult dogs to handle."

__________

The week after:
Port Mafia Headquartes.

Dazai would've gladly been anywhere else except in Mori's office in any other time: he hadn't been told why he was there but he deduced it must be something important given the urgency with which he had been ordered to show up.

"I'm here Boss, what were you supposed to tell me?"

The man gave him one of his prefabricated smiles, pointing a finger to the door behind him. "Don't rush Dazai-kun, one person has yet to arrive." Another person? The few people who were communicated personally by Mori could be counted with fingers: the five Executives, Chuuya and him. Erasing the possibility that the Executives could show themselves here, since many of them were in different parts of Japan, if not the world, doing far more important jobs, the only person left was-

the door swung open, letting the other person in.

"Oda Sakunosuke-kun, you have finally arrived."

As soon as Dazai had time to register the name Mori had just pronounced he quickly turned around, surprised and slightly concerned that Odasaku was in that office. Once both Odasaku's feet were inside the office he immediatly dropped to one knee, bowing his head in respect.

"Excuse me if I've arrived late late Boss, I've been stopped by several security checks along the way."

Mori hinted at an amused, light laugh at him. "Oh, don't worry Oda-kun, Dazai-kun just arrived too. You can get up." Oda obeyed the order, walking until he was standing next to his friend, without looking at him. Dazai was able to give Odasaku a quick glance before masking his concern with a serious expression. "Now, who knows where I did put them-..." Mori began searching through the documents he had scattered all over the desk, taking some papers. "Oh, there they are! They were right in front of me. Good grief, the stress is making me lose attention."

"Can we stop with the pleasantries and know why Odasaku and I-, why Oda and I were summoned here, Boss?" Dazai didn't hide his irritation and acidity as he asked the question. "How evil of you, Dazai-kun." Mori sighed, almost disappointed by the tone of voice that his pupil had reserved for him. "But now, let's talk about the main issue: I have a mission for you two."

For the two of them?

"There is a clandestine organization from Europe that has infiltrated Yokohama for some time now, it's called Mimic: the organization is formed by ex-military men led by an ability user named André Gide. For the moment we have no data on what his ability might be but we know that their goal is to scour the entire city to find someone strong and honorable that is able to release their souls filled with disgrace and shame. From what the intelligence team told me in some reports, they have targeted the Port Mafia, killed nearly seventy of our employees and stolen objects kept under lock by a code inside our port warehouses. What I ask you two to do is to deal with them as efficiently as possible, I certainly cannot afford to lose any more personnel and above all, I do not tolerate that the city I love is being invaded by such insects."

Dazai absorbed all the key informations like a sponge: they used someone of ours to access the code. "I see, so in addition to infest Yokohama and to give us a warning , they've captured someone from our Intelligence team and we have to bring them back, whoever they are, dead or alive." Mori's iconic grin formed on his lips, one that Dazai unfortunately knew well and certainly didn't promise any good news. "I assure you that you will bring back this informant safe and sound Dazai-kun, because I'm talking about Ango Sakaguchi."

At the mention of the name, Oda could no longer remain totally impassive. "They captured Ango, how is that possible? It must have been after that night at the Lupin, we haven't seen him since that last time." Dazai however, at the mention of Ango managed to connect the dots. "No, it's a different matter, Ango's cover as a spy for the Port Mafia has been exposed." Now he understood why Mori had chosen him and Odasaku for this mission. "The Boss had ordered Ango to infiltrate the Mimic as a spy: what better way to gather informations than to infiltrate the enemy organization, perhaps by staging a nice little theater in order to make them believe he was taking some kind of revenge against the Port Mafia, such as stealing something in our territory."

"Flawless as always, Dazai-kun" Mori put on an expression full of pride towards the younger boy. "Going back to the main point of the discussion, I haven't heard anything from him for the past 4 days and most likely he has been discovered." Mori got up from the chair and approached the two boys, holding two sheets of paper in his hand. "A team was able to identify two possible hideouts based on Ango-kun's latest movements, including their hypothetical base of operations: both are two abandoned buildings, hidden in the nature." he handed each of them a paper. "The first building is located a few kilometers from the city: the last signal was recorded here, exactly 4 days ago, so there's a good chance that Ango-kun is being held hostage right here. Oda-kun, I want to let you handle it: I'm sure your ability will come in handy."

Oda bowed his head. "It will be done, Boss."

"Dazai-kun, you will take care of the second building: from the information I got via telegram from Ango-kun this could be their current base, that said there could be a chance to run into Gide, their leader." Mori handed another sheet in Dazai's hand, different from the one he had given him before, larger in size and with a very high value inside the Port Mafia. "I highly recommend you to use this."

"The Silver Oracle."

"Exactly, you know what to do."

Dazai didn't say anything, he just turned around and started heading towards the door. "Come on Odasaku, once this is all over we'll go to Lupin for a drink, all three together." Oda nodded in agreement and gave a last greeting to the Boss before leaving, following his friend.

__________

"Odasaku, can you hear me? How's the situation there?"

"Dazai, I found the hideout but there's something strange: someone got here before me."

"Apparently, we are in the same situation."

Oda began to move towards the hideout, it took almost two hours to find it: it was a small building and great part of it was broken and clearly abandoned since many years . On the ground, whether you looked to the right or to the left, the place was full of lifeless bodies, all wearing the same gray robe that covered their whole figure and most of the face, making it impossible to distinguish them from each other. "They died in a gruesome way, whoever preceded us must have used a lot of brute force." as soon as he crossed the threshold of the building Oda found a body, or rather, a body divided in half between the entrance and the stairs. "Without showing any mercy."

On Dazai's side the situation was not different at all: mangled bodies, some even implanted in the walls or in the floor. "Yes, a real brute." he walked towards the main hall, ordering to his team to remain stationed outside: once he opened the door, Dazai was greeted by the stench of death, a smell present throughout the entire perimeter of the building, and by a scene he wouldn't expected to see so soon. "Odasaku, you'll never believe what's in front of me."

On the other hand, Oda had also made a discovery: on the top floor there was only one room, the one used to hold Ango hostage. The door was wide open and the thing that made him shiver was the prisoner's absence: the ropes that tied him to the chair had been cutted and the guards inside the room were dead, both killed with a single bullet right through the skull. Had Ango managed to escape? Yet not him or Dazai received any communication from the headquarters. "Believe me, I can tell you the same thing."

"Ango is not here."
"André Gide is dead."

They both began talking over each other after having said those things. "Dazai, there's something wrong with this situation." Oda entered inside the room to look for some possible clues: the first two inconsistencies he encountered were the cause of death of the two guards and how Ango had managed to free himself. The guards were both armed and, judging by the size of the room, very close from him: Oda dismissed the idea that Ango had time to cut the knots binding his arms by himself, it would have been impossible with the eyes of two soldiers pointed at him. The only conclusion he managed to reach was that Ango had some kind of external help, more precisely from the same person who had caused this massacre.

"Ango has deceived us: he's working in collusion with the mysterious attacker."

Dazai pronounced that statement so coldly that Oda swore he felt shivers run through his entire body up to his toes: it was like having received a bucket of ice water on him. "Can we really be sure of that?" Oda, inside his racing thoughts, really hoped that Dazai might be wrong, even if he knew that the chances that the boy was wrong on this kind of situations were equal to zero. "Ango is an informant of the Port Mafia, many in the past have tried to gain his knowledge about the organization's matters, the mysterious person might have helped him only to take him away into another hideout." Dazai walked forward, crouching in front of Gide's lifeless body. "If Ango was really his only target from the start he didn't had any reason to kill the remaining Mimic members. In fact, he woul've just done some unsolicited extra work."

"Why then-" Oda didn't finish the sentence: he was frustrated, confused. He couldn't understand why Ango would do something like this to both of them. "The reason is very simple: Ango is a simple puppet but at the same time the puppeteer." Dazai, meanwhile, had managed to find an envelope tucked under Gide's back: a very nasty place to hide something. Inside the envelope there was only one sheet which, judging by the red seal placed on top of it, contained informations reserved to a very limited public: it was Ango's profile, inside there were written all kinds of personal informations.

"Ango is actually an agent of the Special Division, sent as a spy by the government to infiltrate inside the ranks of the Port Mafia: by securing his place as an informant he had the opportunity to access to a lot of sensitive informations in these years." Dazai continued to read more informations, but without finding anything really useful. Taking advantage of the chaotic situation formed by the Mimic to escape was quite clever of him, plus he also had a trump card up in his sleeve: the brute force of that guy, but why collaborate together? He thought, but shortly after the light bulb of truth lit up above his head. Oh I see, so that's the way it is.

"Odasaku, I think it's time to go back to the headquarters. We have a lot of information in our hands, including the identity of Ango's mysterious helper."

There was no answer. In fact, it was far too quiet on the other side.

"Odasaku? Are you there?"

Anything. Odasaku had been knocked out. Shit.

"Was there a need to resort to such expedients to silence Odasaku? Hiding in a blind spot just to hit him from behind? You fell really low, Ango."

There was a moment of hesitation but then, a voice spoke.

"I'm sorry Dazai, but unfortunately the three of us can no longer drink together at Lupin."

Before Dazai could say anything else, Ango cut the connection, leaving him at the mercy of nothing. The priority at that moment was to help Odasaku and for this, he entrusted the task to his team, ordering them to leave the current place without worrying about him: obviously there were no complaints and the order was carried out on the spot. "I think it's time to put an end to this cheap show." He took one last look at Gide's dead body. "To be killed by an honorable and strong warrior, huh?"

He got back on his feet, ready to march towards the Port Mafia, determined to get all the informations he wanted to know out of Mori's mouth but this march didn't last long: suddenly someone hit him from behind his back, it was a decisive blow and with all the intention of knocking out Dazai, which worked perfectly since he was lying on the ground, unable to move a single muscle without feeling an excruciating pain even with the tinest move.

"You always remain the usual brute-..."

Dazai forced his body to move, ignoring how his vision was getting blurried and heavy as time passed but he managed to see a small figure approaching him, the orange hair standing out even with his vision in this condition.

"Chuuya."

__________

An anonymous white ceiling seemed to act as a canvas for the colors of the sunset, or dawn that illuminated the infirmary room he was at the moment: that was the first thing he saw once he reopened his eyes, the bandages he wore on his right eye were taken off, probably to make some quick checks, and it took him a few seconds to see clear and defined the surroundings along with its details.

"You finally woke up, Dazai-kun."

Oh great, Mori was there too: on one side, his presence had saved him the trouble of taking the elevator to the top floor. Dazai began to stand up, bracing himself with his right arm, trying to ignore the pain. "May I know why this visit, Mori-san?" the man crossed his legs, giving him one of his fake smiles. "My pupil was unconscious for two days and nights, as your mentor I was worried. Tell me, is it so strange that I want to visit you?" Dazai let out a laugh, false as Mori's words. "As my mentor that's still passable, but what about as the Boss of the Port Mafia?" A pair of heavy, tired, brown eyes rested on Mori.

"You were afraid I'd open my mouth, weren't you? Maybe that's why you decided to separate me and Oda into two different rooms, keeping me under surveillance, so that I couldn't tell him what I discovered."

There wasn't much reaction to Dazai's words from Mori. "And tell me, what have you discovered?" the boy's gaze became sharper, ready to cut his mentor's confidence in two. "The truth is, you tricked me, Oda, and first of all the Special Division by using Ango and Chuuya as your pawns." began to illustrate Dazai. "Starting from the sudden appearance of the Mimic: it is known that most of the port territory is under the rule of the Port Mafia. By being a European organization the only way to reach Yokohama was through the use of a clandestine boat, but we both know that a group so flashy and with the sole intent to cause wreaking havoc inside Yokohama wouldn't escape the Mafia checks, at all. That said, the only plausible solution is that they infiltrated with the help of someone powerful and that had influence on those cheks, and who, if not you, Mori-san: being the Boss has its advantages and ordering the guards to let the Mimic pass wouldn't have been difficult. But why do that? This is where Ango comes in."

Dazai stretched out an arm, taking from the nightstand next to the bed the envelope resting on it. "You knew from the beginning that Ango was a government spy but you let him snoop around anyway, at least until he messed up, which I assume he did since you sent him into the wolves' den, revealing Ango's true face to the enemies by providing them this envelope, causing him to be captured and held hostage." Dazai folded his hands in a similar way as Mori usually did, almost as to mock him. "Ango's capture must surely alarmed the head of the Special Division, Taneda-san, who I assume held a private meeting with you, Mori-san, away from outsiders eyes, in this case away from me: using Ango's situation by knowing the bond that existed between me, him and Oda to get me away from the headquarters was a subtle but rather clever move, I must admit that to you. With my absence you and Taneda-san must have surely discussed about this situation, arriving at a final solution: an exchange." Suddenly Mori's attention was captured by the last sentence. "Oh? Enlighten me, what would I have gained in this exchange, Dazai-kun."

"Ango's safety in exchange for a document that even the previous Boss couldn't get his hand on: the 'Skilled Business Permit'."

Dazai noticed that there was an imperceptible crack in Mori's mask. "So, the moment the deal was settled you decided that the Mimic was no longer useful to you but to thank them you granted their wish to free their tormented souls from their bodies and, before Oda and I got to the two bases, you ordered to the strongest soldier of the Port Mafia to free Ango but at the same time to give them the announcement that Death had finally arrived: Chuuya was the perfect candidate for this job." Dazai ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Of course knocking both of us out was a very low move Mori-san, as soon as I'll see that hothead in some corridor I'll gave him an accelerated lesson on how to knock out the opponents in a less painful way."

Sound of applause: Mori was clapping, elegantly and without making too much noise. "I could only expect the best from you, Dazai-kun: as always, thanks to your intelligence and ability to analyze you managed to find the truth, even if only half of it."

Half of it?

"Pardon?" Dazai was genuinely confused: he tried to examine all the informations he had acquired, all the details he had noticed all over again, but in the end he only managed to arrive at the same conclusion. Mori noticed that aura of doubt that was wrapping around Dazai more and more, obviously he noticed it. "Don't despair Dazai-kun, you were exceptional to be able to understand so much: to reward your efforts I will reveal you the missing parts of the script." Mori got up from his chair and walked towards the large window of the room, both hands clasped behind his back.

"You're right: I let the Mimic pass unnoticed into Yokohama as well as I let them attack some of ours warehouses, all in order to have a reason to attract the attention of the Special Division: from this point on the story is different than how you had interpreted it, Dazai-kun." Mori's gaze turned toward the boy. "As you correctly said, there was in fact an agreement, but not between me and the head of the Special Division, but between me and his mediator, Ango Sakaguchi, a week before I summoned you and Oda-kun into my office."

"You're actually seeing the picture in the wrong way Dazai, but I can tell you that my client was an important figure, not the owner of some random wine shop."

"I had summoned Ango-kun to discuss about the marvelous job accomplishments he reached here inside the Port Mafia, recommending him to not to get too tired with his side job, or rather, his main job at the Division. You had to see his expression in that moment Dazai-kun, that poor boy was terrified, but I gave him full credit for having been able to keep his nerves steady even in that situation." Mori laughed amused at that memory while Dazai, on the other hand, could understand very well what Ango had felt then. "We began discussing, touching the issues that the Mimic were creating at the time: Ango-kun explained to me how the entry of that clandestine organization inside Yokohama had alerted the Division for some time, but there was a problem as his superior hadn't yet found an optimal solution to eliminate those insects, so I offered him a deal: a double exchange of informations."

"Oh! So this is what happened: there was an exchange of informations from both sides and the money you have inside the suitcase is actually your pay-..."

"I would have provided him with informations of a certain importance and guaranteed his safety. In exchange, he had to infiltrate inside the Mimic as a spy, extracting crucial informations to communicate them to me in real time. Plus, I needed his help to obtain the 'Skilled Business Permit', and to make sure that someone delivered it directly on top of my desk." Mori glanced at the envelope that Dazai was holding. "But as they say, every action has its consequences so I wanted to give him a proper punishment." his attention was again turned to the urban landscape of Yokohama. "Ango-kun accepted this compromise with two conditions: the first was that he wanted an assistant during his 'escape' to facilitate it, a simple and plausible request that I accepted but, I must say, that his second request was the one that surprised me the most, because it wasn't for him." A horrendous grin crept onto Mori's face.

"But for Chuuya-kun, his helper and first of all his client."

Dazai's heart stopped working for a second upon hearing that name.

"...but I still don't understand why giving you this tacky bottle as a gift, you don't even drink wine, let alone fine ones."

"Oh." was all that Dazai was able to say.

Mori continued. "Ango-kun told me that the second condition to accept the job was to dismiss Chuuya-kun from his current position here at the Port Mafia, without any type of future repercussions. Of course, I refused: losing Chuuya-kun would have meant a real disadvantage and a big loss for all the Port Mafia and for you, his partner." right now, Dazai was in a weird emotional state: he felt a mixture of relief begin to form at the implication that his dog was still in his comfy and tacky kennel inside the organization, but at the same time he couldn't feel anything but anxiety. A thing that Dazai had learned in these few years inside the Port Mafia was that having a conversation with Mori was very similar to walking continuously inside a maze, in attempt to desperately find an exit that never existed in the first place.

"So, I directly asked Chuuya-kun himself the reason for this decision and his answer was this: 'I want to live a life that can make those who wrongly sacrificed themselves for me proud, because I'm sure that's the only way to let them really rest in peace.'" Dazai's eyes widened in alarm and confusion: is that all? Chuuya wanted to abandon the Port Mafia, ȺɃȺNĐØN ĦƗM, out of a stupid sense of guilt?! He was truly the biggest idiot he had ever known, a stupid, A VERY BIG ID-

"Laudable." Dazai burst outside of his bubble only to hear more nonsensical words make their way out from Mori's mouth. "Laudable, truly. Even though I was still against his decision, his motivation, his firmness in speaking, his desire to truly want something for himself once in his life totally struck me, like a lighting: Chuuya-kun has grown up a lot in these last two years." Dazai saw a shadow approaching him, was it Mori? He didn't understand, it was probably him, it was probably an hallucination, he didn't know! It was all a jumble: a jumble of nonsensical words, bad decisions, people leaving him. A hand tried to rest on Dazai's head but was pushed away with an instant slap: Mori, for the first time in a while, saw a sparkle of a real emotion inside the brunet's eyes. Pure rage.

"What happened next." It was not a question but an order to continue. Mori's hand withdrew, letting what seemed to be the hint of a twisted, satisfied laugh escape his lips. "Next, you say? Let's say that I, Ango-kun and Chuuya-kun managed to reach a compromise: I would've dismissed Chuuya-kun without any type of repercussions only after he lent his force to us, one last time, to be able to exterminate the Mimic, and only if he agreed to work under the organization of an old friend of mine: the Armed Detective Agency."

"The Armed Detective Agency, I understand." Dazai repeated. "In the end, he really did it."

Mori remained silent, walking away from the boy and proceeding to walk towards the door. "Dazai-kun, do you feel betrayed?" the weight of that question was enough to crush further the lack of clarity of thought that Dazai was desperately trying not to let go, at least not in front of Mori. "Why on earth should I feel betrayed? We couldn't stand each other, in fact I'm happy, almost euphoric that that hothead is gone! The best event of these two years! Of my entire life-"

"Dazai-kun, usually when someone is happy they should be laughing, not crying."

Crying?

"Uh?"

Dazai rubbed his cheeks with the back of both hands coming in contact with something wet and annoying that was running down his skin: tears. When had he started crying? When had his body started listening to his heart and not to his brain?

Everything was a bunch of nonsense.

Mori opened the infirmary door but, before leaving, he turned to Dazai for the last time. "Make your pain a weapon." the smile, almost fraternal, which he gave to Dazai, a few moments later was met with an almost disgusted reaction from the younger. "Plus, keep in mind that only I decided to let Chuuya-kun live in peace, I never mentioned that you should do the same." having said that, Mori definitively left the room, followed by his guardmen.

Dazai's body began to shiver, he didn't know if it was from pain, fear, anger, or all three combined. "Haha-..." he began to laugh softly, both hands into his hair. "HAHAHA-!" laughter and tears were mixed together. It was since that time with Chuuya that he hadn't laughed so much but at the same time he hadn't cried like this since forever, like a fucking baby. He remained in that miserable state for about more than half a day, outside it was now late night: he got out of bed, in pain and with sore legs, making his way, with difficulty, towards the window. It was late at night but Yokohama still maneged to shine thanks to the urban lights and between those streets, now who knows where, Chuuya was there, enjoying his new life. Without Dazai.

"So Chuuya decided to leave me behind, in the past." Dazai's hand rested against the glass, staring into the void.

"You'll see how the future will punish you."

__________

4 years after, Present days:
Armed Detective Agency.

"Everything has to be prepared on time, have you all understood? Our guests are coming from afar, we can't miss any detail to make everything look flawless!"

Kunikida's voice was very similar to a fire siren right now: loud, repetitive and above all, damn annoying. Chuuya covered his left ear with his hand, sticking the phone as close as possible to the other ear so that he, at least, could hear decently what the other person on the call was saying.

"Sorry, I didn't understand shit about what you've just said." Chuuya got up from his desk and strated walking towards the the Agency's entrance door. "Could you repeat, Shirase?"

There was a loud, exaggerated yawn on the other side. "Dude, it's a miracle that I decided to pick up your call when now I'm trying to take a nap: y'know, there are nine hours of time difference between London and Yokohama." Shirase, even from distance, managed to understand that the silence that followed after his words meant one thing: Chuuya was waiting an answer. "Okay, okay- I said the plane will take off in ten minutes and we'll see each other in a few hours, correction, in many hours. I'm supposed to land in Yokohama late at night, so tell your superior to stop being so loud for a meeting that will take place today, I mean tomorrow - oh well, you got what I'm trying to say."

Chuuya walked out of the Agency, calling the elevator. "Mh, I get it: do you already know if you're going to stay in some dumpster or in a five-star hotel?" that sentence triggered a series of complaints from Shirase, on how now he lived a different life, much more comfortable than when they were both part of the 'Sheep' and blah, blah, blah. "In any case, no, neither of them, mister grumpy: we will stay in a very common hotel to 'not attract the attention of suspicious eyes' as my superior says. All useless fears: whose attention should we attract there? The Port Mafia's one? Sure, of course." Shirase later realized that he had said the last part out aloud and, although he was speaking in Japanese at that moment, the word 'Mafia' caused worried looks and glares, all directed at him, from the other passengers. "In any case, I wouldn't be alone: there are five of us, including my superior. In addition, you are also there to guarantee our protection, mine first of course, Mr. Detective."

Detective.

"Yeah yeah, now stop being an idiot." the elevator arrived at its destination with a loud ding. "You and your colleagues can stop shitting yourself in the pants, the Port Mafia and the Agency agreed to a temporary truce 4 years ago, translated it into simple words: the Port Mafia mustn't do any stupid move against us and vice versa." Chuuya entered the bar located on the floor below the Agency, he sat at the counter ordering a coffee, nice and strong too. "Are you seriously having a coffee at two in the afternoon?" Chuuya heard from the other side, Shirase's tone was a mixture of curiosity and surprise. "Yeah, it's the fifth of the day." since Chuuya had started working under the Agency 2 years ago, he discovered how caffeine could be the salvation to his working days, especially the stressful ones, like today.

"You know Chuuya, replacing alcohol with caffeine is not something to be proud about."

"Please, shut up."

"Rude."

The waitress handed him the coffee, extending elegantly her hand, as if she was indirectly saying to Chuuya to pay right away . "Oh right, wait-" he tried to stuck his phone between his shoulder and his ear as with one hand he started searching for his wallet in the pockets of his ripped (and tight) jeans. "Come on, where the heck are you, fucking wallet-... I don't believe it." The temptation Chuuya had to activate his ability and destroy the first thing close by was very strong, but he opted for a long, exasperated sigh.

"What happened?" asked Shirase, still half asleep. "I forgot my wallet upstairs at the Agency." Chuuya got up in a hurry, risking to trip over the stool, warning the waitress that he would be back in exactly ten minutes. Yes, he could have paid that coffee another time but, honestly, he didn't like having unfinished business of any kind, even the stupidiest ones.

The waitress observed that detective sprinting out of the bar, hearing all the curses he was carrying with him, until her attention was brought back to her hand where money, the right amount needed to pay for the coffee, was placed there.

"Some people are really forgetful, don't you think so too, miss?"

The girl looked up feeling her breath stop for a few seconds: the man who had given her the money was tremendously charming, tall, with brown eyes and hair, with a kind smile on his face. He wore a black suit and, for some unknown reason, there were bandages around his arms and neck. "Sir, that's nice of you but are you really sure you want to pay for that customer?" the kind-looking man laughed as he gently closed the girl's hand around the money. "Absolutely sure. That detective and I are old friends, I actually wanted to say hi to him but I saw that he was so engrossed in his work that it seemed impolite to disturb him." then the man bent down picking up a wallet from the ground. "Oh, look! This must be the wallet that he was looking for, luckily I found it and not some kind of criminal." he placed the object on the counter and then began to head towards the entrance door.

"Wait! What's your name, sir? I could let Detective Nakahara know that you were looking for him." the girl's voice was genuine and ringing. "Oh no, don't bother yourself, please." the man gave her a reassuring look and another smile. "That guy already has too many things on his mind, if he also knew about my presence here I'm sure he'd go crazy! Anyway, I will make sure to let him hear from me in these days , so don't worry." after having said that, the man left the bar.

After about ten minutes, just as he had promised, Chuuya returned to the bar with the same rapidity with which he had left before. "I don't know how but I can't find my wallet anywhere, it pains me but that means I'll pay next time." The waitress gave him a shining smile. "Do you mean this wallet, sir?" Chuuya didn't believe it: his wallet had always been at the bar and he hadn't noticed, most likely because of his call with Shirase. "Thank god- tell me how much I owe you again, please." the moment the waitress saw him start pulling out some notes and cents she stopped him. "Oh, no need sir, someone covered your payment." Chuuya's expression changed into surprise mixed with a hint of curiosity.

"May I know who paid?"

The waitress giggled gracefully bringing a hand in front of her mouth, Chuuya noticed a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Sorry, it's top secret."

__________

"That's all for today's meeting, you're all dismissed." President Fukuzawa's voice announced the end of the penultimate joint meeting between the Agency and the small detective organization from London: the Stray Sheeps. Shirase and his colleagues had been staying in Yokohama for a week now, attending to these meetings with the main goal to gain more work experience. Given the fact that this organization was born a few years ago, which has as employees ability users too other than common people, the Order of the Clock Tower has decided to organize this trip to Japan to allow the members to gain more experience. Shirase, even though already had his bag of experience, ended up in the circle because he was the only one between the five who was a native Japanese speaker and, moreover, he knew Yokohama very well.

"It's finally over." Shirase stretched, becoming very similar to a starfish, but this behavior was immediatly punished by his superior with a slap on the back of his head. Chuuya admitted that it was almost reassuring to see how his friend, despite now being 22 years old, hasn't changed one thing about his personality in these years: that little scene made him remember how 7 years ago Shirase was beaten in the same way, but by Yuan. Chuuya got up from his chair with the others, rearranging his copy of documents regarding the case they were studying. After a while, Shirase joined him holding a pack of cigarettes.

"Are you going to keep me company?"

Chuuya didn't think twice, he put the documents on his desk taking with him his lighter and his phone, ready to go out. After all, he won't say no to a free cigarette.

"So, how are you in London?" Chuuya asked: there was no more liberating feeling than smoking after a long and heavy meeting. "I manage. The first few years were hell: I didn't speak a word of English and I had to put up with lessons after lessons directly from Adam, real hell." Shirase blowed his cigarette, letting the smoke come out of his mouth. "Of course, returning to Yokohama after all these years felt nostalgic, a lot: everything has changed." Chuuya looked at him, blowing his cigarette too. "I mean, you also have changed: last time we saw each other it was your first year inside the Port Mafia after having beated Verlaine up and I was leaving for London. Six years later and look where you ended up, at the Armed Detective Agency! Plus, your hair has grown."

Chuuya exhaled smoke from his lips. "It wasn't easy, I had to wait two years before 'firing myself': being able to come up with an escape plan was complicated, especially if the place you need to get out is the Port Mafia and if as a partner you have the misfortune of having a talkative kid who annoys you every damn day of your life." unconsciously, he crushed the cigarette a little. "Fortunately, I was able to collaborate with an agent of the Special Division who had infiltrated into the Port Mafia as a spy. With him I was able to put the final touches to my plan, managing to finally escape." Shirase reached for the ashtray with his hand, putting out the cigarette. "And that evil genius, his name was Dazai, your part-ex partner, do you maybe know how he took it?"

At the mention of that useless man Chuuya's blood began to boil. "No, I don't know and honestly, I don't give a fuck." he put out his, now bent, cigarette too, feeling the sudden urgency of having to smoke another one right away. "Four years have passed since I knocked him out at the Mimic base: I've lost all contact with him since then and I try to know as little as possible about that man outside working hours, I hope that the situation between us will stay like this forever. Dazai is buried in the past, like everything else related to that organization."

Chuuya came out of the glass booth of the smoking area followed by Shirase. Both returned to the Agency wrapped in an awkward silence and even though both of them perceived it, neither of the two said a word for the rest of the walk.

__________

The week after:
Armed Detective Agency's dormitories.

Bzz- bzz bzz- Bzz-

Chuuya was pretty sure he didn't set any alarms that morning because today was, finally, his only day off after almost two weeks of intense work and he was sure he specified to his colleagues that he wouldn't be reachable in any way that day. Apparently someone hadn't listened a flying shit of what he said because his phone had been vibrating for almost twenty minutes between texts and calls.

"One day. Can I get one fucking day to sleep my day away? Apparently not."

Chuuya got up from the futon sitting up with his head resting on his legs, contemplating whether to go back to sleep and leave everyone in their shit or be a good co-worker and respond to emergencies, despite being his only day off. He sighed, opting for the second option: the sooner he could solve the problem and the sooner he would be able to go back to sleep. On his phone screen were more than thirty missed calls and several messages from Kunikida, Yosano, almost from every member of the Agency. After a few seconds he received yet another call, from an unknown number. Chuuya picked up.

"Hello? Am I talking to Detective Nakahara? Your colleagues informed me that today was your day off and I'm terribly sorry to have disturbed you but I, we need your help."

She was Shirase's superior, he recognized her from her pronunciation: her breathing was heavy and her calm and composed voice she always had in these weeks, had been replaced with pure panic. Chuuya ran a hand over his face, still half asleep. "I noticed, I hope it's something important otherwise I'll take care of sending you all back to London, by kicking your ass-"

"Shirase is missing."

"Are you sure? Knowing him, he must have passed out in some cheap bar." Chuuya stood up, stretching. "No, my colleagues and I just went to check in the bars that he usually told us frequented but he wasn't there, plus now I'm back at the hotel and in his room there's an evident trace of blood on the floor and on the walls but no trace of the body."

Shit.

Chuuya put the call on speakerphone, placing the phone on the central table of the small apartment, hurrying to the bathroom, rinsing his face and fixing his hair in a horrendous way but given the situation he couldn't do better to optimize the time. "Stay where you are, call the Agency and warn Kunikida and Rampo to report to the scene." he picked up his clothes from the floor, left there the night before to be a problem for the next day: he was pretty sure he had put his shirt on backwards, his jacket was wrinkled as hell, his jeans that morning decided to drive him crazy, he quickly tied a red shirt with a tartan print to his waist and finally put his hat on his head. He took a quick glance in the mirror: he had never seen himself so horrible in his life but today was a shitty day so he had to go with it.

"I'm ready, I should be there too in fifteen minutes."

"But Mister Nakahara, the hotel is more than half an hour from the dormitories."

"Not a problem when you have a motorcycle and the ability to manipulate gravity."

He ended the call putting the phone in his pocket and walking towards the genkan, slipping on his beloved biker boots in a flash. He got up, ready to go but immediately froze in place: there were some noises, even if slight, of footsteps outside his door, Chuuya was pretty sure that it wasn't just anyone passing by. He waited exactly one minute, ready with his Ability activated but when he opened the door he found no one, only a gift box wrapped with a rather absurd print, with a gigantic and pompous red bow standing mighty, and lastly a black envelope on top of it.

Chuuya didn't have a good feeling. He began to crouch down but the more he went down the more a sickening smell coming from that package became more intense: it was a smell he knew all too well, the smell of death. Chuuya suddenly stiffened. He felt his heart pounding every second that passed, his head began to spin and his skin felt a sudden aura of icy cold. He set the letter aside for the moment, unwrapped the bow, tearing away the paper, finding himself face to face with a cardboard box, the bottom was stained with fresh blood.

Chuuya closed his eyes exhaling a deep breath, firmly opening the box and at the same time his eyes, finding in front of him what, unfortunately, he had suspected.

Inside the box there was Shirase's head.

Time stopped, all sounds disappeared, Chuuya could only hear a whistle that was getting louder, the landscape began to blur and his breathing was becoming fast, heavy and irregular: he fell back, slamming his back against the door of his apartment. He put a hand over his mouth to repress the retching that was forming: he had seen it all when he was part of the Port Mafia but this was vastly different. Shirase was dead.

It had happened again. Another person, another friend had died because of him.

Chuuya needed a few minutes before regaining the correct use of his sight: his head kept spinning and his body was heavy but despite this heaviness he managed to take the phone out of his pocket to make a call.

"Hello? Mister Nakahara? Did you happen to find-"

"Shirase is dead."

"What."

"Shirase Buichiro is dead. Killed by the Port Mafia."

Chuuya's voice was shaky, he bit his lower lip until he cut himself to repress the devastation in his voice. There was dead silence on the other side for a few seconds then a cry, some screams and Chuuya collapsed as well, weeping silently, struggling to repress the enormous rage that had built up inside him, ready for Arahabaki to be consumed . "T-That's not possible! Shirase t-told us the Port Mafia wouldn't touch us!" the woman was completely panicking. "I am sorry." Chuuya was only able to say this, pathetic. "Shirase trusted you! L-Look how it ended because of you! You'll get us all k-killed!" said another rancorous voice. He hated all of this.

"Okay, that's enough." a third voice made its way. "My god, what a bunch of buck-passers you are: easy to blame him when you, his colleagues, had to keep an eye on him first, we're not your personal babysitters." it was Rampo. "Nakahara, are you there?" Chuuya was destroyed but lucid. "Yes, I'm here." he replied, smothering the sadness in his voice as much as he could. On the other side Rampo moved as far away as possible, taking possession of the woman's phone for the moment. "Let me tell you, I didn't even need to use 'Ultra Deduction' to figure out what happened to Shirase." there was a moment of silence, the detective's tone became more serious. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Chuuya looked again at the horrid gift in front of him. "It's Port Mafia fault." he repeated, more determined this time, as if his sadness was slowly being replaced by the indomitable fire of anger he had been trying to repress moments ago. "Correct, but it wasn't an order given by the Port Mafia's Boss, his course of action is different." Chuuya nodded to his colleague's words as he approached the real crime scene. "Yes, I know: Mori Ougai is not a man who acts so frivolously, if he wanted to send a warning to the Agency he would have planned a direct attack on all of us, not just me." he inspected the chopped head inside the box more closely: it had been detached from the body with a sharp blow, it almost looked as if it was removed with a huge bite.

"Mh, exactly. The assassination was carried out by two people but planned by one: the mastermind must have premeditated the murder for a long time, studying Shirase's habits day by day before sending his accomplice to kill him with the guarantee of not having eyewitnesses in the way." illustrated Rampo. "I don't think I need to tell you who was behind your friend's death." Chuuya picked up the black envelope he had set aside earlier.

"No, there's no need, there's only one person in the Port Mafia capable of doing these disgustingly sick things." there was pure disgust in his voice. "Good, I'll leave the rest to you then. I'll take care of explaining the matter to the president and the others." the call ended. Chuuya put the phone back in his pocket, continuing to observe the letter he was holding: after 4 years that piece of shit decided to make his presence felt again in his life, casually when Shirase, a former member of the 'Sheep', had made his return in Yokohama. Really fun, living up to the punishment that he himself established years ago in with the Boss.

Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia's youngest Executive and the Boss's right-hand man, was the mastermind behind Shirase's death.

"You always have to screw things up, you sick bastard." he murmured bitterly before opening the envelope revealing what was inside: it was an handwritten letter, stained with blood.

'My dearest chihuahua,

I hope my gift was appreciated: after six years I was able to repay the damage you suffered from that boy with interest, I can say that I literally made him lose his head!

(it's wrong to talk bad about the dead ones but, if I have to be honest, I've never liked him in the first place).

Anyway, even if you've never noticed it, in these four years I've had the opportunity to follow and observe your adventures inside the Armed Detectives Agency (some bombs that you and that four-eyed colleague defused were my doing, ufufu ) and, even after these four years, I still think that your choice to leave the Port Mafia was absurd: I mean, you have lost the life of tacky luxury that you loved so much. No more awful hats, no more old wines, no more luxury brand clothes and, above all, you have lost an exceptional partner like me! I'd say this is the biggest loss of all, right?

Now, however, you live in a dull dormitory wasting your talent and your energies for a bunch of detectives, even if I must say that the only positive note is that bar you have on the floor below, very welcoming (I even paid for your coffee last time.) Tell me Chuuya, do you enjoy playing the role of the detective that all children admire with twinkling eyes? Who knows what they would say if they knew about your one hundred and thirty-five murders and twenty-five crimes of various kinds (among them, unfortunately, the crime of dressing in a horrific way did not exist).

Oh right, I almost forgot, Ango took care of wiping your criminal record clean, hiding everything under a rug. He did a really good job, too bad you had to hide for two years before returning to Yokohama with a new identity: tell me Chuuya, was France beautiful? I guess it was hard for you to keep a low profile at that time.

Ah, one last thing. Do you happen to remember what I told you years ago, in that corridor when you first told me you wanted to escape from the Port Mafia?

'you can always try to escape and even if you succeed, which is highly unlikely, you can never fully escape the Port Mafia's shadows, they are everywhere, ready to devour you at any moment'

The shadows have come for you Chuuya and have my name engraved on them.

This is the price of your sins.

- Dazai Osamu.

P.S: I will look forward to a future visit from you, I have a '89 Pétrus ready for the occasion.'

Chuuya crumpled up the letter as if it were waste paper: he hated him, he hated his ways, he hated his confidence, in truth he hated every aspect of that man. Dazai always had to be the center of attention, he always had to have the last word on everything and most of all, he always had to do as he pleased with others life.

Dazai written in his letter that he was expecting a visit from him? Well, he would've granted his wish on the spot.

Chuuya covered what was left of Shirase's body, remaining in silence for a few minutes, saying a silent a prayer as a sign of respect. "Goodbye Shirase, I promise I'll teach that asshole Dazai that his actions come with heavy consequences." he paused a little, as if he was waiting for an answer from his friend. "I'll make sure to give him back all the pain he inflicted on you a hundred times as much." then, he stood up picking his phone.

"Hello? This is Yosano speaking."

"I'm Nakahara. I think Rampo has already told you everything."

"Yes, a real tragedy." there was a melancholy sigh. "I'm sorry something like this happened to you: the Port Mafia has absolutely no shame." Chuuya tightened his grip on the rusty railing in front of him. "No, not the Port Mafia, Dazai Osamu is shameless: only someone like him can enjoy planning these gross blackmails." Yosano agreed with him. "I'd really like to take his limbs off to make him feel what he made poor Shirase feel at that time."

"No need to wait, I'm going to do it myself now." Chuuya pulled away from the railing, taking one last look at the box. "I called because you have to replace me before the police arrive here. Dazai left me an invitation to kick his ass and, for the first time, I'm more than happy to oblige." after a while, on the other side Chuuya heard the doctor's heels clatter on the floor, she was on her way.

"Go and break his face."

"You can count on it."

The call between the two ended. Chuuya went down the stairs reaching the only garage present in the whole complex where he kept the bike that Albatross had gifted him before he left forever. "It's time to put on a show." Riding his bike was one of Chuuya's favorite activities: it was adrenalin pumping, fast, efficient and above all it was damn beautiful to be able to dart from one building to another to observe Yokohama from above and, of course, to avoid most of the traffic.

After about ten minutes of making his way through the traffic, the imposing towers of the Port Mafia Headquarters were getting closer and closer: a few more kilometers and he would've entered their territory, a few more minutes and Dazai would've paid for all of this.

"So, this is the price of my sins, you freak?" Chuuya repeated. "I've already negotiated and paid that price years ago with Death itself."

"This is the price of my freedom."

__________

"Dazai-kun, don't you think you were a little too cruel towards Chuuya-kun?"

In Mori's tone of voice there wasn't any kind of anger, only curiosity. "I know that years ago I told you to decide for yourself what to do about Chuuya-kun's betrayal, but I thought you were only limiting yourself to making his life difficult with some pranks, as you always did with him." Dazai stood in front of the huge windows of Mori's office which allowed to admire a breathtaking view of Yokohama. "Absolutely not. As Mori-san said, this is nothing more than a prank, just like those bombs I've planted around Yokohama over the years to make life difficult for Chuuya!" Dazai turned around, the bandage that covered his right eye was gone: he hadn't worn it since the night that traitor disappeared from his life.

"I returned the prank that he did to me first four years ago, by abandoning me."

Outside, in the distance, Dazai after a long time heard an annoying and nostalgic noise. He brought two fingers close to the earpiece he was wearing, activating it. "Odasaku, my guest is coming soon, lead the defense team outside the Port Mafia to give him a warm and lively 'welcome back, Chuuya!'."

"Roger." the answer came immediately. "I hope he doesn't tie this matter around his finger."

Dazai let out an amused laugh. "You always worry too much about others Odasaku! Come on, it's Chuuya, certainly such a trifle won't touch him at all and, this is an order, no one should dare kill him!" Dazai was still looking out of the window, noticing how that little pink dot was getting bigger and clearer: Chuuya was approaching frighteningly fast thanks to his gravity manipulation, giving no sign of slowing down the speed.

"Because the only one who has the right to kill him, is me." he placed a finger on the glass surface, following Chuuya's movements. "And he's the only one who has the right to kill me."

The gunfire had begun: Chuuya had arrived at his destination.

"Come on, show me how you fight for this fake life you've created." Dazai felt a slight warmth creep into his face, making his cheeks blush slightly. "Show me how you protect your freedom." A grin, full of pure satisfaction, almost euphoric formed at the same time.

"Come here and kill me, Detective Nakahara Chuuya."

__________

The End

__________