Chapter Text
Yokohama is an unfair and vicious city. It takes everything from a person and gives back nothing in return. Oda Sakunosuke had known that for a very long time.
He knew it when he’d hear his parents arguing at night over every little thing from money to their unstable marriage to it all being his fault. Their voices would fill the dingy apartment every night until a neighbor made their displeasure known.
He knew it when his mother fell ill. He watched her grow weaker and weaker until one day, she left for the hospital and never came back. His father didn’t last much longer.
He knew it as he walked the cold streets of Yokohama alone searching for something to eat or somewhere to stay. Passersby made a point to walk as far away from him as possible, as if they could catch his misfortune if they got too close.
He knew it as he stood covered in someone else’s blood with a knife in his hand and a dead body below him. Someone had offered him an unfathomably large sum of money to do it, and in the process, he had become entwined with the viciousness of Yokohama.
And he knew it as he sat in a barren jail cell after his most recent murder, a secretary who had paid him to be framed for a different murder that he, for once, didn’t commit.
The whole situation was quite interesting to Oda. From Yukichi Fukuzawa, the famous ex-assassin, taking interest in the first murder to the boy around his age finding out the truth about everything based only on the minimal evidence present, this was definitely one of the most unique set ups surrounding one of his assassinations. Oda was almost tempted to further investigate the two he had met at the scene and figure out exactly how and why the events transpired as they did. However, the aftermath had already been decided. He had been caught and sent to jail: not much more to learn than that.
Being locked up didn’t particularly bother him. Over his time as an assassin, he’d spent several nights in jail, learning it was easier to escape if he acted passive at first. The guards would always decide that they had previously overestimated Oda, decrease security, and allow him to practically walk away. The waiting had always been a normal part of this equation to him.
And his stay in this jail so far had been very normal. Although, the food was particularly dreadful. Obviously, none of the food he typically got was amazing. However, usually, they’d provide him with something with at least a little color: a vegetable, some beans, sometimes seasoning for his rice if they were feeling extra generous. But today, he was given plain, slightly dry, white rice and some form of fish that was somehow even more lacking in color.
He could definitely bear it. Especially considering the other amenities they were providing him. He got air conditioning, a cell to himself, and when he complained of his boredom they gave him a book. It was a bible that he wasn’t going to read, but the thought was nice.
He was having a pretty non-terrible time when he heard the click of shoes approaching his cell. As the clicking stopped, he looked up to see none other than Yukichi Fukuzawa. Oda had to suppress his face from showing his shock. What was he doing here?
After some slightly uncomfortable small talk, Oda got his answer. Fukuzawa had found a memory device often used for high risk, normally gifted, individuals in witness protection in order to communicate with their protection agency, so he wanted to know if Oda had been requested to capture any gifted individuals lately.
“I can’t talk about my clients,” Oda stated. He really couldn’t. Yokohama, for all of its awfulness, had a very strict moral code, especially surrounding confidentiality of jobs. Who needed to get things and why was kept a secret. That’s just the way it was, and if Oda were to break that code, there would be a lot of issues coming his way.
“It doesn’t have to have been a client” Fukuzawa responded, a hint of desperation in his voice. Oda had heard many rumors about him before, and the way he was acting in that moment didn’t seem to line up with any of them. Had his time not killing really affected him that much?
“Have you heard anything recently about capturing a gifted alive?” Fukuzawa questions. He then continues, “The request may have come from someone who calls themselves V.”
“I don’t want to talk about them.” Oda snapped. Oda had heard of V many times before. They were a horrible organization. Oda may be a murderer himself, but he still had morals. He would deny jobs he deemed to have too questionable motivations behind them or victims who truly didn’t deserve it. However, none of that mattered to V. They’d kill just to kill.
“I’m not ordering you to fight them,” Fukuzawa stated. Now this piqued Oda’s interest. Normally, fighting and killing were the only reasons anyone got in contact with him.
“An acquaintance of mine has been abducted by them.” Fukuzawa admitted. “Do you know where they might be holding him?” Oda had several ideas of where Fukuzawa’s acquaintance might be. The redhead had spent more than enough time in the dark underbelly of Yokohama to hear quite a few rumors surrounding the way V did things.
“I have no reason to tell you,” Oda retorted. He had been in Yokohama long enough to know that sharing the information he’s collected isn’t the best idea. Sharing secrets that don’t belong to you can lead to a world of hurt, and he didn’t know Fukuzawa well enough to risk it for him.
“You’re absolutely right, but if you do tell me, I’ll testify that you killed in self-defense and killed him by accident. They’ll let you out immediately,” Fukuzawa declared.
“I’m surprised. You don’t look like the type of person who would sell out on justice like that,” Oda admitted. Oda’s always worked on his own, and he’s never wanted any co-workers or superiors. But if a skilled martial artist such as Fukuzawa would go against his principles just to save his subordinate, then that guy’s lucky to have him. To be honest, Oda envied the subordinate a little.
“I’ve heard about several buildings they use for their dealings,” Oda confessed. He’d be able to help Fukuzawa out a little bit.
“Do we have an agreement?” Fukuzawa inquired.
“I could escape at any point if I wanted to. The reward you’re promising isn’t quite worth it,” Oda confessed. As he did, worry flashed across Fukuzawa’s face.
“But the food at this facility is awful,” Oda admitted, thinking back to the dry rice and slimy fish. He continued, “If you happen to have some sway here, would you mind talking to them?”
“Any requests?” Fukuzawa asked with a smirk and a slight chuckle.
“Curry rice,” Oda said with a smile.
----
A few hours later the clicking of shoes returned, meaning Fukuzawa was back. Oda was slightly surprised to see him and even more surprised to see that he had a tray with a bowl and spoon on it in one of his hands. His other hand held a jump ring, like the ones the guards often had. However, this one only held one key.
“Thanks to you I was able to get to my acquaintance just in time,” Fukuzawa confessed as he placed down the tray just outside of Oda’s cell, revealing the contents of the bowl, curry rice.
“Why are you back?” Oda questioned. Fukuzawa was definitely the type of man to keep his promises, but that doesn’t explain why he specifically was back. Did he want something else from him?
“To keep true to my side of the agreement,” Fukuzawa half lied as he took the key and opened the door to his cell. He closed the door behind him as he stepped inside.
“But why are you specifically here?” Oda clarified. “You could have just gotten one of the guards to give me this.”
Oda’s eyes narrow as he inspects the older man for any sign of what he wants. It shouldn’t be so hard to get a read on him, but Fukuzawa’s body language and facial expressions weren’t giving Oda much to work with. His stance was relaxed but demanding, and his eyes were stern but not much more than usual.
“I have a proposition for you,” Fukuzawa admitted. Oda should’ve known. A nice meal wasn’t something so easy to come by, and Oda’d only given the man a little bit of information. Of course Fukuzawa wanted something else from him.
“Go on,” Oda prompted.
“My acquaintance and I are planning on creating a special detective agency for ability users. I want you to join us,” Fukuzawa informed. That was unexpected.
“Why do you want me?” Oda questioned.
“Your skill set and information would be of great use to us,” Fukuzawa stated, but there had to be more than that. He had barely met Oda and knew what the redhead had done in the past, but still, Fukuzawa wanted Oda to join him. Why was he doing this? It just didn’t add up.
“There’s so many kids out there with similar skills to me who deserve this more. Why not them? Why me?” Oda cried out.
“Deep down you’re a good kid,” Fukuzawa sighed. “You’re just in a bad situation. I used to be like you until I realized the weight of my actions, and I got a chance to get out. You deserve that same chance.”
“Do I really?” Oda doubted. He didn’t believe Fukuzawa. He had done so much to hurt so many. So many people had died at his hands and countless more suffered. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven. He didn’t deserve another chance.
“You do,” Fukuzawa affirmed. There was a lull in the conversation as thoughts raced through Oda’s head.
Should he take this opportunity?
No.
He shouldn’t.
He wasn’t worth it.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested,” Oda stated.
“Are you sure?” Fukuzawa challenged.
“What?” Oda said slightly in shock. Why was Fukuzawa questioning him? He had made his decision.
“This is your chance to leave everything behind and start the life you want to live. No, the life you deserve to live,” Fukuzawa proclaimed. But did he really deserve to live it?
“I don’t know what you mean,” Oda declared, finalizing his decision.
Fukuzawa sighed as he stepped outside of the cell, retrieving the curry he had placed down a few minutes prior.
“I’ll leave my card with you. Call me if you ever change your mind,” Fukuzawa requested as he finally put the tray of curry in front of Oda.
“Thank you,” Oda said. He continued under his breath, “for everything.”