Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yukichi Fukuzawa did not consider himself a good man. Quite the opposite, in fact.

However, he had made strides to right the wrongs he committed in his life, to flip a new page, and start anew.

But right now, his past was staring him in the face with violet eyes.

“Isn’t he remarkable, Yukichi?”

Ougai Mori and Yukichi Fukuzawa stood next to each other, Ougai smiling gleefully as he spoke about this child. His son, Yukichi now knew.

The child in question was lying in a hospital bed, on a mess of drugs that Yukichi did not want to begin to think about.
He looked sickly. More sickly than any child should be, especially one of this age.

This child’s name was Osamu Dazai. He was around 12 years old, but he looked much too small for a child his age. Despite this, Ougai assured Yukichi he was very well cared for.

“... That is a strange thing to say.” Yukichi finally answered.

“Oh, come on! You know who he is, Yukichi. I’m just…”

Ougai paused, an almost infatuated look on his face. Actually, Yukichi thought, scratch the ‘almost’.

“You need to get a grip, Ougai. This is a child. This is your son. He looks… terrible.”

“I already told you I’m caring for him in the best way I know how. He’s fine, really.” Ougai smiled, a sickly sweet smile Yukichi knew meant he was hiding something.

However, against his better judgement, he did not pry further.

“I’m leaving. If all you’re going to do is talk about how ‘amazing’ this boy is, I want nothing to do with it.” Yukichi turned to leave, grabbing the little belongings he brought with him and walking towards the door.

But for a moment, Yukichi hesitated. Did he truly want to leave this boy in Ougai’s care? Something felt.. off. Horribly off, in fact. His hand hovered above the doorknob for just a second too long.

Ougai’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“You know, I think you’d like him if you got to know him.”

Yukichi opened the door.

“Maybe when you’ve decided to stop being such a piece of shit.”

Chapter Text

Osamu Dazai was now 14 years old.

It had been two years since he had even heard of a man named Yukichi Fukuzawa, Mori not bothering to mention him. Two years since the two had completely cut contact.

He sat on Mori’s new desk, playing with one of the expensive looking pens he had found on it. He was waiting for something, but he, for once, wasn’t completely sure what. Osamu had always been one to not specifically say what he thought was happening until he was absolutely certain, or just not at all, to create a sense of tension. It was funny, he thought, when everyone knew he knew what was going to happen, but he didn’t tell them anything at all. But right now, Osamu had absolutely no clue what was going to happen, except for the fact he was about to meet one of Mori’s old friends.

He dropped the pen down onto the desk, listening to it thunk against the wood. Then he hopped off the desk, dusting off his suit and looking forward at the door.

Two voices argued harshly, loud voices piercing enough for Osamu to have a good idea what was going on. But still, he waited until they opened the door.

Ougai Mori and Yukichi Fukuzawa walked into the room, faces angry, but no longer shouting.

Mori cleared his throat, a smile now plastered on his face. It was funny, really, how he tried to hide how angry he was.

“This is the man I told you about a while ago. This is Mr Fukuzawa.” Mori said. Osamu knew he was trying to hide something.

“You introduced me as Mr Fukuzawa? I didn’t realise you raised this child with any respect.” Fukuzawa growled, not bothering to mask his anger. Mori shot him a dangerous look, but Fukuzawa seemed completely unphased.

Osamu stood, not saying a word. He kept his hands by his sides, exactly as trained. He eyed Fukuzawa warily. Mori had told him never to trust another, no matter how highly he talked of them. It had served him well thus far, and he did not plan on stopping anytime soon.

Fukuzawa walked towards him, and Osamu looked to Mori. He had the same dangerous look on his face, but this time directed towards Osamu. A shiver went down the boy's spine, and he instinctively took a step back.

His back hit the desk. He was trapped.

Fukuzawa knelt down, looking up at Osamu with a much softer expression. It was as if he was trying not to scare him. Osamu didn’t like being pitied.

“My name is Yukichi Fukuzawa, but I’m sure you already know that. Ou-... Mori is an old friend of mine.”

Osamu listened to him, looking down at the man with one empty eye.

Fukuzawa took a deep breath, and was about to speak, before Mori interrupted him.

“That’s enough. You can’t possibly-”

“I can, and I will. You are evidently not doing what you should be doing as a parent.”

Osamu was confused now. Fukuzawa knew Mori was his father? He wondered what else the man knew.

Fukuzawa cleared his throat.

“I have a kid around your age. His name is Ranpo, I think you’ll get along well.”

“We.. will?” Osamu felt a pit in his stomach.

Mori seemed more agitated. He had a hand on Fukuzawa’s shoulder now, and his grip was tight.

“You’re confusing him. Stop it.” His voice seemed frantic now. More than Osamu had ever heard coming from the ever-calm Mori.

Fukuzawa stood up, Mori practically clinging to his arm. His face was a mix of terror and rage.

“Osamu, you will be coming to live with me for a while.”

Osamu stared at Fukuzawa. Simply stared at him. He was trying to figure out if this was some kind of sick joke.

“No! I refuse, you are not taking my son away from me! Yuki-”

“Shut up, Ougai.” Fukuzawa’s voice was stern, and final. There was no fighting it. Despite this fact, though, Mori tried.

“Stop it! Why are you doing this to me? You know how much he means to me, Yukichi!” Mori shouted, tugging at his arm like a child. It was the most emotional Osamu had ever really seen the man, ignoring some instances. But he wasn’t thinking about those right now.

“That is exactly why I am taking him, Ougai. I don’t want you hurting him.”

Osamu stayed silent as Fukuzawa shook Mori off and scooped him up. He instinctively clung to the man, afraid of being dropped. He didn’t want to deal with the pain of a sprained leg. The confusion was still clear on his face.

Mori grew more frantic.

“Yuki, please. Please, I won’t hurt him, I’ve never hurt him. He means the world to me, you can’t-” He was cut off by Fukuzawa slapping him. It was a bit awkward, being he was holding a teenager with his other arm, but he managed it well. Mori stood shocked, before his arms dropped to his sides.

“It’s temporary, right?”

Fukuzawa didn’t answer. Mori looked completely defeated.

“I’ll call you.” Was all Fukuzawa said before he swiftly left the room.

-

Fukuzawa’s car was nowhere near as nice as Mori’s, Osamu thought as he sat in the passenger seat. He stared out the window, watching the passing scenery. The atmosphere in the car was tense, and Fukuzawa tapped his finger against the steering wheel as they waited in traffic. Rain pattered against the car, and Osamu thought that was very fitting.

Fukuzawa cleared his throat.

“So, Osamu… How are you feeling? You haven’t said much.” He said calmly. It was evident he was choosing his words carefully.

Osamu didn’t speak for a few moments. He was trying to figure out exactly what to say, but he couldn’t figure anything out. Eventually, he simply settled for one question.

“Why did you take me from him?”

Fukuzawa evidently wasn’t expecting the question. Osamu turned to watch him, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out the best answer, just like how Osamu did.

“Mori… Wasn’t fit to take care of you. You’re only young, and… Well, I’ve heard rumours.” He finally answered, not finding anything better. Osamu considered this for a few seconds. “Rumours? Like what, exactly?”

Fukuzawa paused again. “I’ll tell you once we get home.”

Home. Osamu nearly laughed. How could this.. strangers home, be more of a home than Mori?

They arrived around 20 minutes later, Osamu stepping out of the car warily. He watched Fukuzawa as he unlocked the door, and watched as a 15 year old boy came running up to him.

“Well? Did you get him? Did you get him? Can I meet him? Please?” The kid, evidently Ranpo, almost screeched, excitedly bouncing on his feet. Osamu stared at him, and their eyes met.

Bright green met dull reddish-brown. Eyes with hope met an eye with none. And Osamu watched as those eyes read into him like one reads a nice book on a warm evening. No, perhaps more like a doctor reads a medical report.

“Hmm,” was all Ranpo said. Osamu rolled his eyes, and turned to Fukuzawa.

“Where’s my room?” He asked quietly, wanting to get out of the cold as soon as possible. Fukuzawa smiled softly, offering a hand, which Osamu carefully took. “I’ll take you. Come on, Ranpo.”

The three walked into the apartment. Osamu felt it was rather small compared to what he was used to. Fukuzawa opened the door to a small bedroom, dull and undecorated. Fukuzawa cleared his throat.

“Ah, I… removed the decorations. I thought I’d leave it up to you, Osamu.”

Osamu nodded, letting go of Fukuzawa's hand and looking around. It was nothing compared to Mori’s bedroom, that was certain. He didn’t feel disappointed, but he felt it was stupid to think whatever life this was going to be would be anything compared to the life he led with Mori.

“Ranpo, will you keep him company? I need to pick up groceries.” Fukuzawa said. Ranpo nodded excitedly, turning to face Osamu with intrigue. Fukuzawa swiftly left the room, shutting the door with the two boys inside.

“So… Osamu Dazai, 14 years old, adopted son of the new Port Mafia boss, Ougai Mori.” Ranpo said, sitting down on Osamu’s bed. He patted the spot next to him, but Osamu stayed put.

“So you’ve done your research.”

“Well, not really. Fukuzawa isn’t all that quiet about his plans.”

Osamu nodded again. “And you’re Ranpo…?”

“Ranpo Edogawa! Nice to meet you.” Ranpo extended a hand, and Osamu finally stepped forward to shake it. With his hand in the other boys, Ranpo pulled Osamu onto the bed. He now sat cross-legged across from him.

“So when are you going to tell him?” Ranpo asked calmly, unwrapping some piece of candy he seemed to materialise out of thin air. Osamu tilted his head.

“Tell him what, exactly?” He asked, genuinely confused. He felt that same pit in his stomach from earlier.

“What Mori has been doing?” Ranpo nonchalantly popped the candy into his mouth.

Osamu was genuinely taken aback. What on earth did Ranpo read from him? This boy seemed… unnaturally smart. Osamu made a mental note to be more careful.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said robotically. It was what Mori had taught him. Deny everything. Deny until you can’t deny anymore. Deny, deny, deny.

Ranpo nodded. “I knew you were gonna say that. I won’t force you, you know. But Fukuzawa is going to find out eventually, and he’s not gonna let you back there.” He said, his voice more quiet.

Osamu tilted his head. “What do you mean? Mori said this was temporary.”

Ranpo nodded again. “He did, didn’t he? Out of desperation. He wants it to be temporary, because you’re the most important thing to him. But neither of them confirmed it, did they?” It seemed like an honest question, but they both knew Ranpo knew the answer.

“They… did not confirm it.”

“Exactly. And if Fukuzawa finds out what Mori’s been doing to you, which he will, he’s not returning you to his care. Honestly, I don’t think he’s planning on returning you either way, but…” Ranpo trailed off, looking at Osamu. Really, truly looking at him. Osamu felt Ranpo’s unfiltered gaze was somewhat unnerving.

“You don’t want that, do you?”

Chapter Text

Osamu Dazai and Ougai Mori had a complicated relationship. It was far, far different than anything a normal father and son should have.

Mori had adopted Osamu off the street, registering the boy as his own as soon as he could. It had saved Osamu from a life of living in a shipping container, not knowing if his next meal would be a roasted rat, or nothing at all. A life of murdering people to save himself.

But it had thrust him into a life some would say was much, much worse.

Mori was completely obsessed with the boy. From the day they met, he had showered the boy in all the love and affection he’d show a lover. In every way. Osamu had grown completely accustomed to it. Even as a medical scalpel cut into his skin, and he lay unclothed on top of a medical table. Even as he was forced to dress up in girl's clothes, because he had such a nice body for it, and it would be "a shame to put his female body to waste so soon". It still felt better than anything, because it was Mori doing it.

Osamu was convinced he loved Mori. And Mori loved him too.

But he was blind to how abusive and disgusting the relationship truly was. Blind to the damage it was causing him. He believed every relationship with a father figure would be like that, because it was all he knew.

This view of the world was distorted, and nowhere near easily fixable. But healing is never linear.

. 

“... Excuse me?”

Osamu stared at Ranpo, who was looking at him expectantly. He wanted an answer. He wanted Osamu to launch into some spiel about how he felt about Mori. Osamu wasn’t stupid enough to fall for such an evident ploy.

“You don’t want us to keep you here. You want to go back home with Mori, don’t you? I won’t tell Fukuzawa what you say, you know?” Ranpo said. His voice was soft, and quiet. Osamu still said nothing, looking down at his thighs. What was he supposed to even say to this? He tried to figure out a way to get Ranpo to leave him alone, stop prying into a relationship that didn’t concern him, and let him go home. However, he couldn’t.

“You are correct. I don’t want that.” Osamu said finally, cursing himself for even mildly giving Ranpo what he wanted. Ranpo nodded thoughtfully.

“I knew I was right. But I’ll stick to my word, I won’t tell Fukuzawa about any of this. You know he’ll get it out of you eventually though.” He said, offering Osamu a soft smile. Osamu did not return it, still staring down at his thighs.

The room was silent for a while, neither boy wanting to say a word. After a while, they heard the front door open.

Ranpo bounced off the bed, rushing out the room to greet Fukuzawa, leaving Osamu alone in his bedroom. Alone, for the first time today. He sighed, laying down onto the bed and finally letting himself relax for even a moment. He knew he’d be bothered by the two in a minute or so, but for now he let himself register everything.

A strange man he had only heard Mori say good things about for years until one day it stopped had practically kidnapped him, and forced him to hang out with his incredibly perceptive adopted son. The same strange man looked at him like the sight of Osamu pained him, like it reminded him of something terrible. Osamu was used to people being off put by him, even hating him purely because he was Osamu Dazai, but he wasn’t used to a kind, but pained expression.

Osamu was pulled out of his thoughts by Fukuzawa carefully opening the door, stepping inside the room and sitting at the end of the bed. Ranpo was nowhere to be seen, presumably either lured to a different room by the promise of candy, or having been told this conversation needed to be private.

“Osamu, I bought you some things from the grocery store. I bought you some medical bandages, and various items you will need here that I forgot to prepare.” Fukuzawa said, carefully placing items on the dresser by Osamu’s bed.

Osamu peered at him. “You prepared things? You really did have your mind made up, didn’t you?” He said, his voice cold. Fukuzawa looked a bit sheepish for a second, before clearing his throat. “I.. did. I’ve known Mori all my life practically, and I know he’s not suited for this.”

“But you don’t know that.”

It came out a lot sharper than Osamu had meant. He internally cursed himself for letting his guard down, and turned over in his bed, facing the wall. He had evidently startled Fukuzawa with the harsh tone, and it had intrigued the man.

Fukuzawa let out a deep sigh. “Osamu, you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, I understand if you do not trust me enough to inform me of anything,” He took a deep breath. “And I know he’s your father, so you have a bond because of that, but… Is there something you aren’t telling me?” He asked. Osamu said nothing.

Fukuzawa nodded. “Okay, that’s fine. But, please remember, you can come to me about anything. You won’t be in trouble for any of it. Even if you’re not comfortable telling me, could you please tell Ranpo?” He asked, almost pleadingly. Osamu remained quiet.

The man finally got up, placing the last of his shopping bag onto Osamu’s dresser before leaving the room. Osamu sat up, finally analysing the room.

The door was in the corner of the room, facing his bed and dresser that had bandages, a toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, and assorted snacks that Fukuzawa had bought him. The nightstand was next the window on the left, and his bed on the right. There was a small desk in the corner, with a chair and a plastic cup filled with pencils. There were no other sharp objects.

Osamu made his way to the window. It was locked. He tapped against the glass experimentally. Reinforced.

This man was smart. He did ponder, however, if these precautions were Ranpo’s idea. Osamu flopped down onto the bed, quickly sitting up against his pillow and finally pulling out his phone. He popped open the phone case; opaque and plain black, and pulled out a razor he had hidden in his phone case among a few other things, such as a folded up photo, a folded up piece of paper and some money.

He unwrapped his arm bandages.

Some precautions weren’t enough. They should have searched him.

-

After rewrapping his body with the new bandages, making sure to carefully wrap his right eye, Osamu fell asleep. It was fairly early for him, but Osamu was exhausted from the day. He woke up at around 5am, when Mori’s alarm would go off. He was almost surprised that he woke up without it, and even more surprised that his body clock was accustomed to Mori’s sleeping schedule. He laughed to himself a little, sliding out of bed and making his way out of his room.

He walked down the hallway, into the main living area. It was rather homey looking, scattered candy wrappers on the table and a book with a bookmark in it resting next to them. There was also a half-drunk cup of coffee, as if the person drinking it had forgotten about it. It was nothing like home. Mori’s living quarters were always tidy, only cluttered by various things he had bought Osamu to keep the boy entertained. Osamu liked it like that. It was home, it was calm and it was Mori. He bit his cheek as he remembered these things. Preoccupied, he had not noticed the creak of the floorboards as someone stood a bit behind him, watching.

“Well, you’re up early.” Ranpo’s voice was cheerful, but quiet. Osamu didn’t flinch, but quickly turned around, facing the other boy. “So are you.” He said, not missing a beat. Ranpo laughed. “Ah, yeah, I wake up early and make breakfast so the old man doesn’t have to. He has enough on his plate, y’know?”

Osamu nodded thoughtfully. “That’s nice of you. So, when does he wake up?” He asked. Ranpo smiled, “In about an hour. It gives me time to make him toast, bacon and eggs. Will you be wanting any?” Ranpo asked, moving next to Osamu, who shook his head. Ranpo nodded, then looked down at the coffee. “Hmm. He never usually drinks coffee late. Guess this is getting to him.” Ranpo said it like he was spelling it out for Osamu, who glared at him in response. “I’m not a kid, you know. You don’t have to explain everything to me like I am one.”

Ranpo laughed, “Well, you never know! What if you needed help?” He said, before heading into the kitchen. Osamu rolled his eyes again. This Ranpo boy was.. a character, to say the least. Osamu couldn’t tell if he wanted to find out more about the boy, or see him gone as soon as possible.

He looked down at his phone, and the contact on his screen.

He shoved it into his pocket. He lost his chance.

-
The breakfast Ranpo made smelt amazing, all things considered. He had never expected the boy to be a good cook, but as he sat on the sofa and watched the two eat, chatting about nothing in particular, he noticed both seemed to be enjoying themselves. Fukuzawa had been incredibly appreciative, even if Ranpo had said he does this almost every day.

It was something Osamu had never really experienced. Ranpo and Fukuzawa were… so much different than him and Mori. They laughed and chatted happily, while Osamu felt like most conversations with Mori were akin to a chess match. Whoever made the checkmate, won the conversation. Only most, though. Some conversations…

Osamu was pulled out of his thoughts when he realised the two had stopped talking, and were looking at him curiously. He quickly realised he had been picking at his bandages, and staring at nothing.

“You okay, ‘Samu?” Asked Ranpo, tilting his head. He knew, Osamu felt that fact in his bones. Osamu nodded quickly.

“Perhaps he’s hungry. Are you sure you offered to make him breakfast too, Ranpo?” Asked Fukuzawa. Ranpo nodded. “I don’t think he eats in the mornings.” He said bluntly. Fukuzawa nodded slowly. “I… see. That’s okay. We’ll work with whatever is comfortable for you, Osamu.”

Osamu held back an eye roll. How stupid did Fukuzawa think he was? It wasn’t going to be long until his attitude shifted, Osamu knew that for a fact. It was only a matter of time.

Fukuzawa stood up, collecting the two plates and making his way into the kitchen. Ranpo sat next to Osamu, leaning closer to him curiously. “How long do you think you’re gonna be able to play this? I’m curious.” He asked. Osamu shrugged, and Ranpo nodded. “I’d say a few days. You’ll come to learn that Fukuzawa is quite the persuasive man.”

Osamu ignored him, grabbing the TV remote and turning on the rather modest TV Fukuzawa owned. “Hey, don’t ignore me!” Ranpo whined, almost smothering Osamu trying to get the remote out of his hand. Osamu tried to shove Ranpo off of him, but found himself far too weak.

Fukuzawa walked into the room at the completely wrong moment. He took a sip of his coffee, watching the two boys struggle.

“Ranpo, can you stop smothering Osamu?” He asked calmly. Ranpo made a face, then grumpily removed himself from Osamu, who sat up and started watching TV. The morning news was on, and he pretended to be interested in the weather.

Ranpo and Fukuzawa got on with their day, Fukuzawa heading out the door at around 7. Ranpo had stayed, deciding to keep Osamu company on his first proper day in Fukuzawa’s care. The two had been sitting there, watching the news in silence for around 10 minutes until Ranpo couldn’t bear it anymore.

“So! Osamu, how are you liking it here? Do you wanna go shopping for decorations for your bedroom yet? Will you buy me candy if we go out?” Ranpo asked, practically talking a mile a minute. Osamu facepalmed. “Ugh… It’s fine here, nothing like home. Sure, why not, but you’re paying. And no, I’m not buying you candy.” He said, exasperated by the upbeat attitude of this boy.

Ranpo nodded, taking in the information. “I see! What do you mean by ‘nothing like home’, though?” He asked.

Osamu paused. Had he really let that slip? He cursed under his breath, standing up. “Nothing you need to worry about. Anyway, if we’re going shopping, we may as well get going.” He said, quickly changing the subject. “And maybe I’ll buy you candy.” He muttered. Ranpo’s eyes glistened with a newfound happiness. He ran out the room, changing out of his pyjamas and into normal clothing in record speed. He was at the door in 5 minutes, keys in hand.

Osamu sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and heading out the door. He waited as Ranpo locked the door, and they headed off into the city.

-

It took a good 3 hours to visit every shop Ranpo decided he wanted to visit. Osamu was absolutely exhausted by the end of it, feeling like he was babysitting an excitable toddler. He had multiple bags in his hand, mostly filled with random things Ranpo had decided would look good in his bedroom, or candy he had begged Osamu to let him get, pleading that “Fukuzawa would never buy that for me himself! Pleaaaase, Osamu!” and eventually wearing Osamu down to the point where he simply just agreed with anything he said.

Now, however, they sat on a bench, Ranpo happily snacking on his candy as Osamu ignored the boy, too busy on his phone. He tried not to care as he noticed the boy take a few glances at what he was doing.

“Still wondering when you’ll get the chance to call Mori?” Ranpo asked, his mouth still full of candy as he spoke. Osamu froze. “What?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice his contact open on your phone this morning! Thought you’d check up on him, hm?” Ranpo’s voice seemed far too cheerful for what he was saying. Osamu felt unnerved all over again.

“So what if I was? Fukuzawa never told me I couldn’t call him.” Osamu said calmly, masking how off guard he was caught. Ranpo considered this for a second, then nodded, popping another candy into his mouth.

“Then do it.”

“What..?”
Ranpo looked at him, chewing slowly. He swallowed his candy, then repeated himself. “Do it. Call him.”

Osamu stared at him. Was Ranpo serious? Didn’t they want to keep him away from Mori? He could barely read this boy.

But, with permission, he quickly clicked Mori’s contact and lifted the phone to his ear.

Mori answered immediately.

Chapter Text

“Osamu! Dear, I’ve been so worried about you!”

Mori’s voice sounded incredibly relieved. It sounded like he had spent the entire day without Osamu trying to figure out how to get him back, and coming up empty. With this phone call, however, a lot of his worries had been calmed.

“How are you doing? Is Fukuzawa treating you well? When are you coming home?” Mori asked, these questions having evidently been on his mind since it hit around the 12 hour mark of Osamu not being in his care. Osamu let out a soft laugh, before answering.

“I’m okay. Fukuzawa is… well, he’s nothing like you. I don’t really know what he’s trying to pull on me. But he hasn’t actually said when I’m going home yet.” Osamu said, carefully leaving out what Ranpo had told him. He didn’t want Mori acting rashly. Osamu heard Mori laugh.

“Ah, well, we’ve always been quite different people. But keep your guard up, you never know what the enemy are planning. Once he realises you’re not going to be easy, he’ll give up on you. Then you can come home.” Mori had a sense of longing in his voice, even through the phone. Osamu found it a little endearing, that Mori really cared so much.

“I’ll come home as soon as I can. You know that.” He said quietly. It felt good to be hearing Mori’s voice again. Better than anything. He just didn’t understand why his heart was beating so fast. Why his hands were shaking, even if just a little. He didn’t understand at all.

“Good boy. You have no idea how happy I will be to see you, dear. Now, I do have to go, but call me as soon as you can. I love you, Osamu.”

“I love you too…” Osamu almost whispered. He had suddenly remembered Ranpo was currently staring at him, directly next to him, and definitely heard every single thing the two of them said.

And with that, Mori hung up. Osamu turned to Ranpo like a deer in headlights. Ranpo’s expression was cold, but not directed towards him. No, this was directed towards Mori, even if he wasn’t actually there.
“I don’t get it.” Ranpo finally said.

Osamu looked at him, wide-eyed. “You.. don’t get what?”

“I don’t get how you love him so much. I don’t get how you, someone who is incredibly smart, even compared to me, believes everything he says.” Ranpo continued, somewhat matching Osamu’s expression now. The two boys stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Osamu knew he wanted to defend Mori, say the man would never lie to him, say he isn’t as bad as everyone says he is.

But… that wouldn’t be completely true, would it? He knew Mori. He knew Mori better than anyone else, and knew better than everyone that he was nowhere near a good man. To lead a mafia, you couldn’t be a good man. All the good inside you gets crushed down, small enough to never be seen by the naked eye.

But Osamu saw that side of him. Osamu knew he saw that side of Mori, knew it better than anything. He trusted Mori with his life, and that wasn’t about to change due to some weird man and his kid, even if they seemed so, so nice. It was fake. It had to be fake. He knew it was fake, because Mori had told him it was. Never trust another. Never trust anyone, apart from Mori.

It was at this moment when Osamu realised he was crying, tears streaming down his face and staining his bandage. Ranpo hadn’t moved, and honestly looked entirely out of his element. He hadn’t expected this from Osamu, and Osamu hadn’t either. He brought his sleeve up to his face, trying to stop crying. Trying to stop looking so weak.

He tried to speak, tried to defend himself, tried to do anything but cry like a child, but he couldn’t. Nothing he could say right now was going to do something.

“Osamu. You need to talk to Fukuzawa.” Ranpo finally said, incredibly seriously. He had abandoned the bag of candy by his side, and Osamu nearly laughed because of how ludicrous this situation was.

“I can’t. I can’t tell him. He won’t let me go home. I want to go home. Please, Ranpo.” Osamu practically whispered. He was never usually one to beg, considering it beneath him. But what choice did he have? He hated it here. More specifically, he hated not being by Mori’s side. Everything just felt wrong without him. He understood everything when with Mori. He was able to do anything. He felt on top of the world with the man, and now…

All he felt like was a lost child. A lost child crying in the dark, alone. It felt pathetic. He truly was pathetic.

“...I think I can help you.” Ranpo muttered.

Osamu looked at him, surprised.

“With Fukuzawa. I’m not helping to get you back to Mori.”

Osamu nodded slowly, and Ranpo stood up, offering a hand. He had a small smile on his face, trying to look as friendly as possible. Osamu didn’t trust it for a second, but took his hand nonetheless.

The two headed home, Ranpo carrying all the bags so Osamu didn’t have to. It was a nice gesture, Osamu thought. Of course, he didn’t trust Ranpo one bit, but he supposed deep down he was rather glad he wasn’t alone in this. Glad he wasn’t forced to be alone with Fukuzawa.

-

They arrived home after a while of walking in silence, Osamu holding onto Ranpo’s hand for dear life. He wasn’t sure why, in all honesty. He assumed Ranpo was holding his hand to keep him from running away, but Osamu wasn’t sure why he had held on.

Fukuzawa was home by the time they got there, drinking coffee and reading some file he swiftly put away when he saw the two boys walk in. “Ranpo, Osamu, you went shopping?” He asked, before noticing their unhappy looks. Osamu didn’t utter a word, not wanting to say anything to the man, so Ranpo did it for him.

“We did. Then Mori called Osamu.” Ranpo lied. Osamu’s grip tightened. Ranpo had lied for him? Lied to Fukuzawa’s face, purely to save him?

“Mori what?” Fukuzawa was standing now, trying his best to mask his anger. Ranpo nodded. “I dealt with it, don’t worry. Nothing bad happened, Osamu’s just a bit shaken up.” He explained. Fukuzawa nodded, taking in the information. “Okay, I’m glad you dealt with it, Ranpo.” He sat back down, gesturing to the two to sit down. Osamu’s face soured, knowing very well he was about to be quizzed.

Ranpo guided him to the sofa, sitting next to him as the two looked to Fukuzawa, who took one sip of his coffee before talking.

“Are you able to tell me what happened? What Mori said?” Fukuzawa asked. Ranpo shook his head. “It wasn’t on speaker, so I wasn’t able to hear anything. But, I don’t think it was too bad.” Ranpo lied again. Osamu watched his face, and watched as not a trace of dishonesty was displayed on his expression. Ranpo would truly be quite the asset to the Port Mafia, he thought. His grip tightened, biting his cheek at the thought. It wasn’t going to happen, he knew that, but the thought didn’t sit right with him.

“That’s okay, I’m glad you told me. Osamu, are you able to tell me what he said?” Fukuzawa directed his attention to Osamu now, who didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“He just said he missed me. Not much else to it.” Osamu explained. Not technically a lie, but not the whole truth either. Fukuzawa closed his eyes as he took in the information.

“Osamu, are you okay? Do you need me to talk to him and tell him not to do that again?”

“No!” Osamu had shouted it before thinking. Ranpo’s hand tightened around his, and Fukuzawa looked a little surprised. “No..?” He asked, shocked.

“Don’t do that.” Osamu muttered, looking down at his knees. All hope of hiding things was completely lost, all due to the fact he couldn’t control himself. He couldn’t stop his true emotions showing about this. He really was just a stupid child.

“Why don’t you want us to do that, Osamu?” Fukuzawa’s voice was calm. Osamu looked completely away from the two, staring at the floor now. He didn’t want to give up any more information. But he knew that if he didn’t, Ranpo would. It was past the point where he could convince Ranpo to keep his mouth shut, and they both knew that.

“I think I know.” Ranpo said. “But I don’t want to overstep. I have no right to tell you about what Osamu has gone through.” He continued. Osamu looked at him, surprised. Ranpo was doing so much for him, and he didn’t know why.

Fukuzawa nodded. “Osamu, you’re going to have to tell me. I know something is wrong, and if you don’t tell me I really will have no choice but to…” He trailed off, but Osamu knew what he meant. He took a deep breath.

“I’ll… tell you some things. If you promise to not take him away from me.” Osamu said, a desperate attempt to try to negotiate. Fukuzawa nodded, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Ranpo looked at Osamu, squeezing his hand slightly in an act of comfort.

This was going to be a long conversation.

Chapter Text

Osamu lay on a hospital bed, his hands bound above his head. He was on too many drugs he didn’t remember the names of, and his head hurt. But he felt fine. Better than fine, actually. He sleepily opened his eyes, looking at Mori as he pulled off his rubber gloves.

Mori looked at him with a dark look in his eyes, and a warm smile on his face. He stepped closer to Osamu, pressing a soft kiss to the boy’s forehead. He whispered about how well Osamu was doing, but the boy barely registered any of it. He felt so incredibly tired.

He felt Mori’s hands travel down to his waist. Then further. He closed his eyes again, scrunching them up.

Tonight was going to be a long night. Osamu wasn’t sure how he felt. But if Mori was here, everything was going to be okay.

Right?

-

The three sat in silence for a long while, Ranpo holding onto Osamu’s hand in an effort to comfort the boy. Fukuzawa looked more serious now, watching Osamu’s expression. Osamu was still clinging to Ranpo, a bit closer now. The boy was all he really had, his only ally in this place, even if it was a lie.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to describe anything about his relationship with Mori. It just was what it was, Mori said it was normal. He didn’t understand why Fukuzawa and Ranpo were trying to make a big deal out of it, and didn't understand why the two were so concerned. He was sure it was a trick, a ploy to try to remove the best asset the Port Mafia had. To try to destroy Mori by taking away what he loved most.

Osamu finally spoke after what felt like hours.

“I… don’t know what to tell you. Our relationship is normal.” He said. Fukuzawa took a breath.

“And what is normal for you? You don’t seem very accustomed to how I am.” He asked. Osamu bit his lip as he thought of what to say.

“I don’t know. I spend nearly all my time with him, help with whatever he needs, make him happy. Let him…” Osamu trailed off. How should he word that?

“Let him, what?” Fukuzawa asked. His voice had a darker tone now. Ranpo looked at Osamu with an unreadable expression.

“Do whatever he wants. To me.” Osamu said shortly. He didn’t really think there was anything wrong with it. Of course, Mori had always told him to keep quiet about it, but it wasn’t like he could get out of this right now.

“What? Osamu, what does he do to you?” Fukuzawa’s voice was stern, but full of concern. Ranpo turned to him. “I think you know.” He said softly.

The room grew quiet. Osamu didn’t really know what he said wrong. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t wrong, it was normal. Why didn’t Fukuzawa and Ranpo see that?

“I didn’t realise it was that bad. If I had known-” Fukuzawa was evidently not taking the news well. “It’s really not that bad, though.” Osamu said. Fukuzawa shook his head, looking down. He didn’t know what to say.

Ranpo looked nervous. “...It’s not just that, though. Is it, Osamu?” He asked, eyes falling on his eye bandage in particular. Osamu stiffened.

“It was a learning experience, that’s all.”

Fukuzawa got up, now sitting next to Osamu, too. Osamu turned towards him, and Fukuzawa took a deep breath. “Osamu. May I remove your eye bandage?”

Osamu wanted to refuse. He wanted to get up, and run. Run until he found his way home. But instead, he nodded weakly. Fukuzawa carefully unwrapped Osamu’s eye.

Both him and Ranpo took in a sharp breath. The area around Osamu’s right eye was covered in scarring and newer wounds, all made in an incredibly precise way. It was obvious a scalpel was used to create such injuries. Some had stitches, but most did not. The newer injuries were lazily patched up, like the goal wasn’t to take care of them, but make sure they did as much permanent damage as possible. It was evident if Osamu was not careful with his expressions, wounds would open. Fukuzawa looked almost heartbroken.

“Mori did this to you?” He said, voice low. Osamu stayed still, before speaking. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I don’t mind it.” He explained. Fukuzawa shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how you feel about it, he shouldn’t be doing this to you.”

Ranpo looked away, before muttering. “That isn’t the only place.”
Fukuzawa turned to Ranpo for a second, before looking back to Osamu, who shook his head. “I can’t show you that.”

Fukuzawa nodded understandingly. “That’s okay. You don’t have to show us anything, or tell us anything you don’t want to.” He said calmly, but Osamu could see a dark storm in his eyes. A rage he was trying incredibly hard to drown out.

Osamu took a deep breath, preparing himself. He then spoke. “You aren’t taking me away from him.” He stated. Fukuzawa and Ranpo looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I refuse to let you take me from him. I promised to dedicate my life to him when he saved me, and I plan to see that through. I would die for him.” Osamu was speaking without thinking now. He couldn’t stop himself. He was going to do whatever it took to see Mori again. “If you expect me to just give up on him because you don’t agree with actions I am completely fine with, then you are incredibly stupid.”

He was being stared at now. Fukuzawa and Ranpo were completely dumbfounded. They didn’t know how to respond to that, and didn't know how to defuse the situation. Osamu was terrified. And he knew, fear left unchecked very often bubbles over into anger.

Osamu stood up, turning to face the two. Blood trickled down his face from one of his injuries, which had split open due to Osamu’s change in expression. He was angry, angrier than he thought he could ever be. He was going to do something, and get himself out of here once and for all.

But then he realised there was nothing he could do.

What would even happen if he threatened them? He had no weapon, no way of escaping, no way of convincing them that his way of life is what he wanted. All he could do was scare them. He was nothing without Mori’s backing.

And then he realised again that the look in their eyes was sorrow.

He was nothing but a scared child to them. A scared child who just wanted his father back. To some extent, maybe Osamu was somewhat like that. But they didn’t know the depths of what he was truly capable of. Why adults three times his age eyed him warily when he passed in the corridor. Why even Mori looked at him in fear on some occasions.

And Osamu hoped they’d never find out. His rage dwindled, and he took a deep breath, but said nothing. Fukuzawa stood up carefully, and Ranpo stayed put. “I… can’t in good conscience send you back to someone who is doing that to you. You can understand that, right?” He said, speaking slowly. Osamu shook his head. “Unless you want to keep me for yourself, I don’t see why I can’t go back.” He muttered.

Fukuzawa’s expression became a little disgusted at that comment, but he quickly forced it down. “Do you truly believe what he was doing to you was normal?” Fukuzawa asked. “That everybody is like that, including me?”

Osamu stayed still, considering the question. Mori had said everyone would be out to get him, to hurt him and destroy him, more than Mori ever could. He had said everything he did to Osamu was out of love, because nobody else could ever love Osamu like Mori did. Osamu had believed him wholeheartedly.

Was Fukuzawa trying to convince him it wasn’t love? Or, that Mori’s love was a fucked-up, twisted version of what it should be? Those things weren’t true, Osamu was sure of that. Mori may have been a liar, a manipulator, and a terrible person, but he wasn’t like that to Osamu. He couldn’t be.

“It was normal for us. He loves me, and that is how he shows it. And I love him too. I don’t get why this is such a big deal when I’m fucking okay with it!” Osamu grew a bit more agitated as he spoke the last part, just narrowly avoiding shouting. Ranpo stood up now, too.

“It’s still wrong even if you’re okay with it. And I don’t think you are okay with it. I think you want to be okay with it, because that’s what Mori wants from you, but deep down it hurts you. Am I wrong?” Ranpo said. Osamu shot him a dirty look, crossing his arms. Ranpo wasn’t right. Ranpo couldn’t be right. Sure, the boy was smart, but he could get things wrong. And this was one of those times.

“You are wrong. Why would I say I’m okay with it if I’m not? And my feelings towards Mori have nothing to do with it. If I don’t want to do something-” Osamu cut himself off. That wasn’t true, was it? He always went along with whatever Mori wanted to do, no matter if he wanted to or not. When he begged for Mori to stop, he wouldn’t. It was just so much easier to agree than fight. Osamu knew sometimes it wasn’t so bad, hell, sometimes he enjoyed it, but…
Mori didn’t change what he did either way. He always got what he wanted.

Osamu still refused to admit Ranpo was even a small amount of right, though. He wouldn’t give the boy the satisfaction. Yet he didn’t want to lie, and have to actively support it, so he said nothing.

Fukuzawa cleared his throat. “I think this is enough for today. I don’t want you to grow to despise me because of this. I know you don’t believe me, but I really do have your best interests in mind. With that said, though…” Fukuzawa seemed to debate with himself for a second, trying to figure out if he really wanted to say what he was about to say.

“I’m going to call him later tonight. If you want, both you and Ranpo can be in the room while I do this. I want you to be as informed as you can be, and hopefully… It’ll be something that helps you. If it isn’t, I will take full responsibility.” Fukuzawa smiled nervously. He didn’t seem completely good at being a soft person, Osamu thought. He was far too logical, much like Ranpo. What a pair the two made.

“Does Ranpo really have to be there? He’s…” Osamu tried to think of a good excuse. “He’s just so ugly. I don’t want to have my eyes melt out of my head due to his ugliness!”

It wasn’t a very good one. Fukuzawa laughed, before answering. “Unfortunately, I will have to have Ranpo in the room. He wants to be informed, too. Maybe just shield your eyes.”

“Hey! I’m not ugly! Fukuzawa, how could you!” Ranpo yelled childishly, crossing his arms and pouting. Osamu was glad of the atmosphere change, and the fact he didn’t have to divulge more private information to two people who were practically strangers.

“Moving on, I’m going to order us food from a takeout shop. Do either of you have any preferences?” Fukuzawa asked, carefully ignoring Ranpo, who immediately changed tone as the topic of bought food was mentioned.

“Can we get ice cream? I think we should have ice cream for dinner. Osamu, you think we should get ice cream too, right?” Said Ranpo, talking very quickly. Osamu thought he was quite excitable. Wishing to annoy him as much as possible, Osamu pouted. “I don’t want ice cream.” He said, turning away from Ranpo in an aloof way. Ranpo let out a whine. “Pleaaase, Osamu! I want ice cream!”

Fukuzawa sighed, “I have ice cream in the freezer. How about we order pizza?” He offered. Osamu nodded, feeling fine with that. He wasn’t the biggest fan of pizza, but it had been a while since he last ate. Not that he much liked eating, finding it a bit unnecessary, but he didn’t mind doing it to not raise suspicions.

Ranpo groaned, collapsing onto the sofa and curling up into a ball like he was having a tantrum. Fukuzawa seemed to ignore him, grabbing the landline and beginning to type in the phone number for the pizza place. “What do we want, then?” He asked. Ranpo perked up a little. “Hmmm.. Hawaiian! It’s sweeter than gross pepperoni.”

Osamu smirked, then loudly went, “I want a meaty pizza. With olives.”

Ranpo gasped in horror. “Olives? You want olives? You, you..!” Ranpo scrambled for the right insult, “You are an evil, evil creature!” He settled for a rather juvenile one. Osamu grinned, then stuck his tongue out.

Fukuzawa paused, watching the two. “I’ll just… order both. Then everyone is happy.” He said, calling the pizza place as he walked into the kitchen. Ranpo’s expression changed immediately, becoming softer as he looked at Osamu.

“I’m proud of you, y’know.” He said. Osamu tilted his head. “Huh?”

“That couldn’t have been easy. Even if I didn’t really agree with you in some things you said, it took a lot of courage to even tell us about that.” Ranpo explained, before patting the sofa and gesturing for Osamu to join him. Osamu did, too lazy to fight him.

“Anyway! We’re gonna watch a movie now.” Ranpo stated. Osamu raised his eyebrows, watching Ranpo switch on the TV and shove in some random DVD. Osamu had never watched a movie before, let alone one for children, so he watched with curiosity.

-

By the time the movie was almost over, the pizzas had arrived and everyone was eating happily. Osamu was resting against Ranpo’s shoulder, having barely touched the slices he was given. It was strange how utterly exhausted he found himself. Ranpo had let him rest, chatting to Fukuzawa about how stupid half the characters were, and how he could have solved the mysteries so easily. Fukuzawa absent-mindedly agreed with him, not really paying attention to what the boy was saying.

Ranpo turned his attention towards Osamu the moment the movie finished, seemingly checking if the boy was still awake. “Hey, Osamu? You awake? Hey!” He poked the boy's cheek. Osamu opened his eyes slowly, and lifted his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m awake. That movie was boring.”

“Literally! Like, if you’re going to make a mystery, make it believable!” Ranpo complained. Fukuzawa laughed a little. “Ranpo, it is a film for children. It’s not going to be the best mystery you’ve ever come across.”

“Well, why not? I’m a child, and I figured out who was behind the mystery immediately!”

Osamu sighed. Did this happen every night? Was he really going to have to put up with this? And were they really just acting like the previous conversation didn’t happen?

Then Osamu thought a bit more. No, they weren’t. They were trying to distract him. With how calm it was the previous night, this couldn’t be the usual activities for the two. Maybe Fukuzawa was trying to make it seem more safe after such a conversation. Osamu didn’t buy it, but he found it hard not to enjoy the atmosphere even a little bit. Ranpo was quite entertaining when he wanted to be.

But, as the silence grew, Osamu realised Fukuzawa was looking at him. “Hmm?”

“I’m going to call Mori in about 20 minutes. Try to finish your food, but it’s okay if you can’t. I’ll be right back.” He said, before standing up and taking his and Ranpo’s plates. Osamu took a deep breath, preparing for Ranpo to start saying something that sounded rather conceited.

But he didn’t. And that was somehow worse.

Ranpo had grown quiet, sitting upright and holding his hands in his lap. He seemed rather nervous. “What’s wrong?” Osamu asked. Ranpo smiled weakly. “I just don’t like watching those two fight. Every conversation they have always devolves into an argument. Seeing Fukuzawa angry is scary.” He explained, looking down. Osamu nodded.

For some reason, he felt himself not wanting Ranpo to be upset. He wanted to comfort the boy, and honestly the feeling kind of disgusted him. He didn’t actually care about the boy, did he? Sure, they had spent practically Osamu’s entire time here together, even if that was only a day and a bit, but Osamu wasn’t sure how to feel.

He gripped the boy’s hand without thinking. “It’s gonna be okay.” He said bluntly, not used to comforting others. He was usually the one making people afraid.

Ranpo appreciated it all the same, smiling more warmly now. “I feel like I should be comforting you, though.” He said. Osamu shook his head, looking away. “I don’t need you to comfort me, Mori isn’t all that scary.”

“Pff, you can say that again. You know, one time I walked in on him and Fukuzawa-”

Fukuzawa then walked into the room, and Ranpo quickly shut his mouth. He made a shushing gesture, and Osamu laughed a little. Then the two boys returned to more serious expressions.

Fukuzawa sat down, waiting a few minutes before pulling out his personal phone. He dialled in Mori’s number without hesitation, but looked to the two boys before clicking the call button. Osamu and Ranpo looked at him, waiting.

Fukuzawa clicked the call button.

It rang for a few seconds, before Mori’s voice could be heard throughout the room.

“I was wondering when you would finally call me. You said you would, you know?”

Fukuzawa’s expression was cold, devoid of any emotion except for deep mistrust and hatred. Ranpo didn’t seem used to it, and looked away, but Osamu was unphased. Plus, he wanted to pay close attention to what the two said.

“I never said when, Ougai. I thought you’d remember that.”

“I’ve been a bit preoccupied with, you know, doing my job. You wouldn’t know anything about that, though, would you?” Mori’s voice was sweet, but laced with venom. Osamu forced down a smile, thinking it would be in poor taste right now.

“Just because I didn’t turn out like you doesn't mean I don’t know how to do a job.” Fukuzawa was keeping his sentences short, like he really didn’t want to be doing this.

“Oh, of course. Your little detective agency. How is that coming along, I wonder?” Mori had a fake curiosity in his voice. Fukuzawa’s expression grew somehow colder. “It’s coming along fine. Even if it is just me and Ranpo.”

“Hm, of course. Now, cut to the chase. How is my son doing, Yukichi?”

Fukuzawa took a deep breath.

“I’ve seen his injuries. You’re more disgusting than I thought you were.” Fukuzawa’s voice was laced with a trained calmness, but his anger was evident. Mori let out a laugh.

“Has he explained them? The reason for their existence? Or did you just take information and run with it like usual?”

Fukuzawa gritted his teeth. “I don’t need their reason. You shouldn’t be doing that to a child. And that isn’t even mentioning the other things I know you’ve been doing.”

Mori was silent for a moment. “Oh, so he’s mentioned that?”

“Not willingly.”

“Good. He’s quite well trained, don’t you think?” Mori was trying to make Fukuzawa angrier. Osamu didn’t know who he was rooting for. This was the usual chess match conversation he had grown accustomed to. It was kind of entertaining to watch from afar.

“The only reason I haven’t come to your door and bludgeoned you to death is because Osamu would never forgive me. I am doing all of this and keeping you alive for his sake, and his sake only. Understand every decision I make is for him, not for you.” Fukuzawa carefully ignored Mori’s comment. Mori let out a satisfied hum.

“So, your point is?”

Fukuzawa paused, mentally debating with himself.

“I’m considering my options. A side effect of this is the fact I will have to keep you involved. I want nothing more than to see you dead, but that is not an option right now. I just want you to know that the moment I can, I will.”

“Is this the part where you allow me to talk to him?” Mori asked sweetly. Osamu thought Fukuzawa was about to crack his teeth with how tightly his jaw was clenched.

“...Not for your sake.”

Osamu looked surprised. Fukuzawa was actually going to allow that? He couldn’t help the small smile that found its way onto his features. Fukuzawa and Mori spoke for a moment more, before Fukuzawa handed the phone over. It was on speaker.

“...Hey.”

“Osamu! I didn’t think I was going to be able to talk to you twice today, but I suppose you’re always full of lovely surprises, dear.” Fukuzawa grimaced at the petname. Ranpo looked a little uncomfortable, but composed nonetheless.

Mori continued. “I trust you’re only mentioning things when you have no other choice? Remember what I taught you, love. And remember the other things, too.”

Osamu held back a shiver. Mori’s punishments were harsh, and unforgiving. He had to make sure to be a bit more careful from now on. He didn’t want to go home and… well, he didn’t need to think about specifics right now.

“You know me. I’m doing the best I can.” Osamu answered. His voice was incredibly monotone, hyper aware of the two people staring daggers at Fukuzawa’s phone.

“Good, good. You’re so smart, love. I really am missing your presence here, I’ve had to take to asking Hirotsu about things! Do you realise how much of a pain that is?” Mori sighed, seemingly exasperated by the fact he had to utter a word to Hirotsu. Osamu laughed a little bit.

“You know I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

“I know. And I’ll make sure that when you do, you’ll never want to leave again. Consider it a promise, Osamu.” Mori said. Fukuzawa then snatched the phone out of Osamu’s hand, who shot him a dirty look immediately.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Yukichi! I was in the middle of talking! That was incredibly rude.”

“I don’t care. We’ll talk when we talk. Goodbye.” He then hastily hung up, looking towards Osamu before facepalming.

“I knew that was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have entertained him for so long.” He said, his head in his hand. Ranpo went over to him in an attempt to comfort him. “He’s always been able to get to you. Don’t blame yourself too hard for the weird stuff he says.”

Osamu just sat there, registering that. Mori was so desperate to see him that he was making promises like that? This really was getting to the man. Osamu felt a strange joy that he was able to cause such heavy emotion in the man.

Grabbing his plate, he ignored the other two and headed to his bedroom. He didn’t want to intrude on something where he was definitely the odd one out. Ranpo and Fukuzawa were very evidently not on Mori’s side, and he didn’t want to overhear anything they were saying. Instead, he sat on his bed and went on his phone, occasionally taking a bite from one of his pizza slices. Probably not the appropriate reaction, Osamu thought, but he didn’t really care.

He wondered how long this was going to take. How long it would be until Mori got sick of these games and came to take him home by force.

And Osamu smiled to himself.

Mori was an impatient man. It wouldn’t take very long.

Chapter Text

Osamu had stayed up practically half the night. He wasn’t completely sure why, or what he was waiting for, but it was 3am and he showed no signs of going to sleep. He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before there was a soft knock at the door. He sat up, a little surprised, but allowed Ranpo to walk into the room quietly, sitting on the bed. “I knew you were awake.” He said quietly, sounding a little tired. He seemingly hadn’t had any sleep either, but he was taking it worse than Osamu.

“Fukuzawa’s been asleep for a while. I was going to sleep, too, but…” Ranpo trailed off, looking at Osamu in concern. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You’ve been worried about me? There’s no reason to be.” Osamu said before thinking. He didn’t get why anyone would care this much, but he supposed Ranpo and Fukuzawa were strange people anyway.

“There is, though! There’s something majorly wrong and you have a number of ways you should be acting, but you’re acting like none of them! Why?” Ranpo looked upset as he said this, like Osamu actually meant something to him. Osamu didn’t respond, only looking away from the other. He didn’t really know what to say.

“I want you to be okay, Osamu. You have potential. You are more than the Port Mafia is trying to make you.” Ranpo stated, almost solemnly. Osamu held back a laugh. “You don’t know who I am. What would I even do if I left the Port Mafia? Left Mori?”

“You could always join the Armed Detective Agency.”

Osamu wasn’t able to hold back his laughter this time. He laughed for almost a minute, ignoring Ranpo’s rather serious expression. “Wait, you’re not kidding? You genuinely think me, of all people, would join some detective agency? You think I could save people? You’re genuinely delusional.”

“I don’t think I am. I just think you need a good reason. Why are you even in the Port Mafia? Apart from Mori, of course.”

Osamu had to think about that for a moment. Was Mori the entire reason he had stayed with the mafia? No, he wasn’t. Osamu had hoped he’d find some reason to exist in the mafia. That being exposed to so much death would make him find value in life.

But even though it had only been around 3 years since he entered the mafia, that hadn’t been the result. He found no value in life. Death was natural, as natural as breathing. Who cares if it came sooner than it should’ve? That was a gift, more than anything.

“I don’t know. I thought it’d give me some reason to exist.” Osamu paused. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Ranpo nodded. “I wanted you to think about it, and I want you to consider my offer.”

Osamu leaned back, rolling his eyes. “Mhm, sure.” He pulled out his phone, ignoring Ranpo. He had a habit of shutting off when people brought things up that he didn’t want to talk about. Ranpo sighed, moving closer to Osamu.

Osamu looked at him curiously as the boy lay next to him, practically shoving him over. “What… are you doing?”

“I don’t wanna sleep alone! I’m sleeping here.” Ranpo said, letting out an exaggerated yawn. Osamu pulled a face, before turning away. He knew that was a lie, Ranpo didn’t seem the type to just suddenly decide to sleep in someone’s room for such a flimsy reason. Osamu came to an obvious conclusion.

Ranpo was monitoring him.

He didn’t know if it was his or Fukuzawa’s idea, but he didn’t like it one bit.

Yet, as he felt exhaustion overtake his body, he didn’t feel awake enough to fight back. He let his eyes fall closed, trying to ignore the feeling of Ranpo’s satisfaction. He had a feeling tomorrow was going to be a tiring day.

-

He woke up a few hours later, Ranpo nowhere to be seen. Osamu assumed he had gotten up at around 5 to make breakfast again, meaning the boy had gotten about 2 hours of sleep if they had slept at the same time, which Osamu highly doubted. He rolled out of bed, tumbling to the floor out of sheer laziness.

Getting up, he grabbed the toothbrush off his dresser and headed into the bathroom, having a feeling being well-dressed and clean today would be an asset. It didn’t take long to shower and clean himself, wrapping a towel around himself and heading back into his bedroom. It was now he realised he had absolutely zero clue what clothes were in his dresser. He grimaced at the thought they might be Ranpo’s hand-me-downs.

As he opened the dresser though, he paused. They certainly weren’t completely what he’d usually wear, but they weren’t terrible. He picked out a waistcoat and black button-up shirt, black trousers and a choker. He supposed the clothing was up to Ranpo to pick out, as he couldn’t imagine for the life of him that Fukuzawa would ever consider buying clothes like this.

He re-bandaged himself, including his eye which he had honestly forgotten was uncovered, and quickly got dressed. He tucked Mori’s trenchcoat under his arm, and walked out into the living room. Ranpo was busy watching cartoons, and Fukuzawa was calmly drinking some tea.

“You look nice. Are they the clothes you bought, Ranpo?” Asked Fukuzawa, turning towards Ranpo, who took one look at Osamu and nodded. “Mhm! I thought they’d suit him.”

Osamu smiled a little, sitting down next to Ranpo and starting to watch the cartoons with him. It seemed to be the original source material of that movie Ranpo had put on.

“So, you like this show?” He asked. Ranpo shrugged. “Well, it’s better than most kids' shows, but they’re so bad at mystery solving. It’s always the guy they met at the beginning!” He complained, frowning. Osamu laughed, “I mean, obviously. It’s always the person made out to be the good guy.”

They chatted about the TV show for a while, before Fukuzawa cleared his throat. “I’m heading to work now. Come on.” He said, gesturing towards Ranpo and Osamu. Osamu looked confused. “I’m coming with you?”

Fukuzawa nodded. “I won’t force you to do any work, but it’s not like I can leave you here alone. Ranpo will be there to keep you company, in any case.” He explained. Osamu shrugged, standing up. “Eh, whatever. Not like it’s gonna be too tiring.”

He walked towards the door, Ranpo and Fukuzawa following. They seemed surprised about how quickly he had agreed. He pulled Mori’s trenchcoat over his shoulders, stepping outside. Fukuzawa quickly walked past, unlocking and getting into his car. Osamu was going to get in the passenger seat in the front, but Ranpo very quickly pulled Osamu into the backseats with him.

“Is there a reason you’re forcing me to sit next to you?” He asked, annoyed. Ranpo smiled mischievously. “Well, duh! We’re friends, and that means I get to talk to you for the entire car journey.”

Fukuzawa grimaced. He hadn’t even started the car yet, and he already looked like he wanted this day over as quickly as possible.

-

They arrived at the Armed Detective Agency fairly quickly, all things considered. Osamu thought it would have been quicker if they walked, but he didn’t really mind. The three got out of the car quickly, Fukuzawa entering the café on the first floor and greeting the staff. Ranpo dragged Osamu into the building after seeing how apprehensive he looked, babbling something about how good the desserts in the café were.

The Agency was on the fourth floor, and Osamu thought it was pretty good for what Fukuzawa seemed to be able to afford. It had a surplus of desks, and Ranpo’s was front and centre. Fukuzawa’s office was small, nothing compared to the luxury the boss of the Port Mafia got, but it was rather homey. Osamu had a hard time forcing himself to not like it.

“You.. are pretty short of staff, Fukuzawa.” He said, looking up at the man. Fukuzawa nodded. “I’ve just started the place, in all honesty. We’re planning on hiring more detectives and a few clerks. But for now, it is… truly just me and Ranpo.” Fukuzawa explained, before pausing.

“You would be quite the asset to this organisation, Osamu.”

Osamu rolled his eyes. “Ranpo already pulled this on me, I’m a member of the Port Mafia and I’m not going to defect and join your dumb agency without a good reason.”

“Well, what if we gave you a good reason?” Said Ranpo, putting a lollipop into his mouth. Osamu smirked, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Well then, I will!”

Osamu laughed, walking over to an empty desk and sitting down on it. Ranpo sat at his own desk, pulling out a few case files the agency had gotten their hands on. Fukuzawa retreated to his office, looking to continue trying to find people he could recruit.

It took around 10 minutes for Ranpo to finally say something again.

“These cases are all so boring. I get we’re new, but why is the police giving us such boring cases? Murder this, stray ability user that, it’s so boring!” He complained, his face against his desk. Osamu tilted his head.

“Stray ability user, you say?”

“Oh, yeah. A few of them, actually. There’s only one I’m really interested in so far, the rest of them are involved in criminal organisations I can’t be asked to deal with without backup.” Ranpo said, throwing a case file at Osamu’s forehead. It slapped his face and landed pathetically on the ground.

He picked it up, and flipped it open.

It was a face he recognised. Hell, it’s a face he had seen only a year ago.

“Sakunosuke Oda, huh?”

Chapter Text

Osamu Dazai was 13 years old. He was doing a favour for the current Port Mafia boss and Mori, much to Kouyou’s dismay. She had complained unendingly, asking why a child like him was being entrusted with such a dangerous mission. Mori had told her to zip it, before she found herself in more trouble than she already was.

His mission was to take down an enemy organisation. It was a rather small one, in all honesty, but still much too difficult for a 13 year old to do alone. But he was not to be alone.
Because the first step of Osamu’s mission was not to make any steps to actually dismantle the organisation. No, his first step was to recruit someone to help him by any means necessary.

And this person’s name was Sakunosuke Oda.

-

Ranpo looked at Osamu curiously. “You recognise him, then?”

Osamu nodded, flipping through the case file. 19 years old, former independent assassin.

“We’ve come across each other before. Nothing important. Anyway, former independent assassin? What stopped him?” Osamu asked, closing the file and placing it next to him. Ranpo shrugged.

“Something about him and some mysterious Port Mafia agent taking down an organisation that had a lot of his clients. Word spread, and he was out of work. Not really my problem, he’s still killing people as far as I know. Just for different reasons.” He explained, not really caring much about this subject. “It doesn’t matter to me. But don’t you think he looks like he has some potential?”

Potential. Osamu snorted. Nothing about this boy had any potential. He was just as fucked-up as Osamu was. Then again, Ranpo thought he had potential, too.

“So, you want to recruit Sakunosuke?” Asked Osamu, hopping off of the desk and facing Ranpo. Ranpo nodded, getting up and walking towards Osamu. “You know what, if you can recruit him yourself, I’ll make it worth your while!”

Osamu thought about it. Sakunosuke was… volatile, unpredictable, and had a very unpleasant personality. Not to mention he had a pain in the ass ability, so much so to the point where Osamu practically had to hold his hand the entire time they worked together.

“Sure, why not.”

He was recruiting his own future enemies. May as well give the Port Mafia the upper hand by recruiting a homicidal piece of shit.

“So it’s settled! I’ll go tell Fukuzawa, and we can go!” Ranpo grinned, a glint in his eyes. This was going to be quite the experience.

-

Osamu and Ranpo made their way through the dark alleyways of Yokohama, having been given two guns by Fukuzawa. He had tried to make them take him too, for safety reasons, but Ranpo begged and pleaded to do this with Osamu alone. So here they were, standing in a dirty alley and trying to look intimidating.

Well, Ranpo was trying to look intimidating. Osamu didn’t need to with the gun in his hand, and Mori’s trenchcoat making him look bigger than he was. Not to mention, his reputation in Yokohama’s underground preceded him.

There was an ever so slight rustle behind the two. Osamu and Ranpo turned around just in time to block a knife with Osamu’s arm. Osamu grinned, an almost childlike delight flashing onto his face.

Dull blue met dull red, for the second time.

Sakunosuke’s expression was fierce. He looked angry, angrier than Osamu had last seen him, and that was saying something. The knife pierced into his arm as Sakunosuke drove forward, and Ranpo looked a bit horrified, but not surprised.

“Lovely to see you again, Sakunosuke.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dazai.”

Osamu smiled in a sickly sweet way, his expression mirroring that of his fathers. So Sakunosuke hadn’t forgotten their little… disagreement.

“Listen, I never told you I’d tell you where your brother is. I simply stated I knew where he was, I didn’t tell you to make assumptions.” He said nonchalantly, biting his cheek after he finished his sentence to hold back a hiss of pain.

“You piece of shit, you knew that’s why I was helping you, and then you disappeared without a word! If you’re here to try to fucking do that to me again-”

“You’re both being stupid.” Ranpo said, arms crossed. “Now I would appreciate it if you stopped stabbing my partner.”

Sakunosuke paused, turning towards Ranpo with a still angry, but somewhat confused expression. “Why are you working.. This piece of shit actually defected?”
“It’s… complicated. But I work for the Armed Detective Agency. I would’ve hoped you’d make something out of yourself, too, but it seems like you haven’t.”

Sakunosuke pulled the knife out of Osamu’s arm, who grit his teeth at the sensation. Sure, he had been a bit of a piece of shit last time, but was that really necessary?

“Well, it’s not like I got much of a choice. I’m not joining the Port Mafia anytime soon, and especially not if this waste of oxygen over here is still the new boss’ lapdog.” Sakunosuke said, sliding the knife into his waistband. Osamu rolled his eyes. Lapdog? That was a low blow, even for him.

“Well, what about the agency?” Ranpo asked, a nonchalant look on his face, like he could take it or leave it. “It’s up to you, but I think it’d beat living on the streets.”

Sakunosuke looked unimpressed. “I’d rather be on the streets than work with that prick.”

It was Osamu’s time to shine. “Oh, but you wouldn’t be working with me. I’m temporarily working for these… people. But once I can go home, we’ll be official enemies! Doesn’t that sound great, Sakuno~suke?” He stretched out Sakunosuke’s name in a sing-song way, determined to annoy the man into joining the Armed Detective Agency.

Ranpo’s eyes seemed to glaze over at that. He looked away as casually as he could.

“And I’d get a roof over my head?” Sakunosuke asked incredulously. Osamu nodded, smiling amicably. “Of course, I’ll sort something out with Fukuzawa. Maybe you could get my room!”

“Osamu-” Ranpo started. Osamu cut him off.

“So, it’s a deal? You’ll try out the agency?” Osamu asked. Sakunosuke took a deep breath, sighed, and then nodded. “You don’t leave me a lot of choice. Is that your thing, Dazai? You say things like there’s a choice, but there really isn’t?” He sounded annoyed, and exasperated. Osamu rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer him. Sakunosuke didn’t need to know he was right.

“Well, Ranpo. That was easy.” Osamu said, dropping the gun he was given in front of Ranpo’s feet. Ranpo was just standing there, almost glaring at Osamu. That was a new one.

Ranpo dragged Osamu out of Sakunosuke’s earshot, saying something about how they needed to have a private discussion.

“You made him join the agency for reasons built on lies. He’s never going to truly be one of us if he’s just wanting to get back at you.” Ranpo explained, an almost angry look on his face. Osamu realised he was finally getting to the boy.

“Oh, but how was I lying? I’m really not going to be around forever, am I?” Osamu smiled at Ranpo innocently, like he didn’t realise what was wrong with what he said, even though he knew full well what he had just done was putting a timer on how long he could logically stay in the agency.
Ranpo took a deep breath. He seemed to consider his options for a second, before speaking. “That isn’t going to work. We’ll give Sakunosuke a better reason to stay in the agency. You will give him a better reason to stay at the agency.” He stated it like it was fact, like he had a bigger plan. Osamu was almost impressed by his optimism.

Osamu ignored Ranpo, turning around and walking back to Sakunosuke. He grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the alley. Ranpo sighed, walking alongside the two. The three didn’t say much for a while, until Sakunosuke spoke.
“This is taking forever. You also don’t have to cling onto me, Dazai. I’m not going to run off.” He said, annoyed. Osamu grinned, “Oh, but I do! You think I’d believe you when you say you won’t run off? You’re so stupid, Sakunosuke.”

Then he paused. “Hmm.. Sakunosuke is such a long name. Maybe I should come up with a lovely nickname for you!” He said. Sakunosuke grimaced, trying to tug his arm out of Osamu’s grip. “I’ll shoot you where you stand, don’t you dare.”

“I guess I could always call you Oda, but that’s so boring. What about… Odasaku?”

Sakunosuke hit him over the head. Osamu yelped, letting go of him and running behind Ranpo. “I’m gonna call the police on you! You can’t hit a kid!” He whined, wrapped around Ranpo like the boy offered any defence. Sakunosuke laughed.

“Pfft, go ahead. But if you don’t want to say my full name all the time, you can just call me Sakuno. Saves time, I guess.” He seemed entirely disinterested, and Osamu assumed his goal was to meet Fukuzawa as soon as possible, which would make sense.

Osamu nodded, removing himself from Ranpo and returning to clinging to Sakuno’s arm. “Okay then, Sakuno it is! Beats calling you Sakunosuke, it makes you seem more serious than you are. Doesn’t fit the fact you don’t seem to know what a comb is.”

Sakuno didn’t answer that, just sighing and continuing to walk. Eventually, the three made their way back to the agency, walking into Fukuzawa’s office.

“We’re back! And look who we brought with us!” Said Osamu, grinning ear-to-ear. Fukuzawa looked at Sakuno, rather surprised. “When you said you were going after a stray ability user, I didn’t think you meant…” He trailed off. Ranpo nodded, “I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

“I see. Well, I’m very glad to see you again, Sakunosuke.” Fukuzawa said, a soft smile on his face. Sakuno didn’t return it, but he looked a lot less hostile. “Yeah, it’s whatever. I was promised a job and a bed. That’s why I’m here.”

Fukuzawa nodded, considering this. He looked at his computer for a second, before looking back at Sakuno. “Your proper accommodation will have to wait, but I can offer a place to sleep in my home. Once you’ve accumulated enough from your paycheck, you can buy your own place, or wait until I have managed to acquire a dormitory.” He explained, calm and focused.

Sakuno hummed, agreeing with the terms.

Fukuzawa smiled again, glad to have another person in the agency. He then turned his attention to Osamu.

“Is there.. any particular reason you’re clinging to Sakunosuke?”

Osamu laughed. “There is! But it’s a secret.” He said, tightening his grip. Sakuno looked a bit more uncomfortable, but wasn’t in the position to shove him away.

Ranpo rolled his eyes. “It’s because Osamu likes annoying people he doesn’t like by taking away their ability. It’s a weird sensation to get used to for most.”

“Ranpo! You weren’t supposed to tell him…” Osamu complained, pouting. Ranpo shrugged, walking out of the office. Osamu removed himself from Sakuno once again, trying his best to hide his bleeding arm before Fukuzawa noticed it. He was suddenly very glad of the fact Mori’s trenchcoat was so oversized.

He left the room quickly after, allowing Sakuno and Fukuzawa to continue their conversation. Ranpo was at his desk, not really doing much but not paying a lot of attention to Osamu. He felt a little bad for pissing Ranpo off so badly, but then again, he had practically asked for it. It wasn’t Osamu’s fault.

-

The work day continued on uneventfully, Sakuno being given the desk next to the one Osamu had seemingly claimed. He had complained, but still seemed rather apathetic to everything. Osamu wondered if the boy knew what a smile was, or even what happiness was. Osamu felt he was a lot better than Sakuno in most ways, simply because at least he knew how to pretend.

Then again, the idea of Sakuno pretending to be happy didn’t seem like a good one. Osamu thought it’d be a bit terrifying to see him smile.

The four had to pile into the car, Sakuno taking the front seat next to Fukuzawa and forcing Osamu and Ranpo into the back once again. Ranpo simply stared out the window the entire time, leaving Osamu to bother Sakuno by poking the back of his head as much as he could get away with. Sakuno seemed almost unbothered, only a slight edge in his voice as he continued speaking to Fukuzawa about things that did not interest Osamu. Although, it was difficult to tell if that tone was just a natural thing.

They arrived home quickly, Osamu retreating to his room and not bothering to spend any more time with the others. Sure, Fukuzawa and Ranpo were fine, but the idea of spending any time with Sakuno filled him with a deeply ingrained disgust. He’d never like such a… well, for lack of better wording, bitch. Sakuno was a complete bitch. It drove Osamu up the wall, more so than anyone he’d ever met.

He sat in his bedroom for a long, long while, biding his time by throwing pencils at his window as hard as he could to hear them crack against the glass until he got bored. He ignored Fukuzawa when he knocked and said dinner was ready. He ignored the voices of the other three until they died down. He slid himself underneath his bed at some point, sliding into the corner. He liked being in closed off spaces. It made him feel safer.

By the time he actually checked his phone, it was 2am. Nobody would be up by now, if he was lucky. He slid out from under his bed, dusting himself off before quietly inching out of his bedroom.

The sofa was empty. By the time he had opened the front door, Sakuno was already looking at him, cigarette in hand. Osamu snorted.

“You’re smoking? That shit’ll kill you, you know.” He said, carefully shutting the door and leaning against it. Sakuno didn’t change in expression. “That’s the point.” He muttered, not particularly caring about anything Osamu had to say.

Osamu held out his hand, obviously asking for one. Sakuno snorted. “Aren’t you like 14?” He paused, “Then again. I know who you are. But I’m not giving you shit.” He took a drag of his cigarette, looking out onto the street. “Why are you up?”

Osamu shrugged, sliding down the door and sitting on the floor. “I don’t particularly like sleeping. Plus, I have things to do.”

“Things to do? Like what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Sakuno looked at him blankly. “I would. That’s why I asked.” He chucked a cigarette at Osamu’s head. Then paused, and threw his lighter. Osamu looked at him questioningly, but Sakuno just shrugged. “You’ll just steal them,” was all the explanation he had.

They smoked together for a while, not saying much. Osamu thought it was pretty irresponsible to let a 14 year old smoke, but then again, Sakuno wasn’t a very responsible person. Or a very interesting one. He could go on, but he didn’t want to dedicate so much brain power to how annoying the man was.

Osamu stilled for a second, before speaking. “I would’ve thought you’d have killed me by now.” Sakuno simply just looked up, staring at the sky. “Yeah, me too.”

“Why haven’t you?”

He seemed to think about this for a few seconds. Then he looked at Osamu, frowning slightly. “You’re a piece of shit, but you’re 14. Plus,” He took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it out onto the street, “You look shittier than you did last time we met, and that’s saying something. Killing you right now would just be sad.”

Osamu laughed a little, “I didn’t notice. Why do you think that is, hmm?”

“Meh, don’t really care. Unless I find out it’s something really bad that I want to do something about, it’s not my business.”

Osamu nodded, putting his cigarette out on the ground. He then stood up.

“Well, this was lovely, but I’m gonna go back in.” Osamu said, placing his hand on the doorknob.

“Why come out here in the first place? I don’t see why you’d want to spend time with me.” Sakuno asked, yet he still didn’t seem to truly care. Osamu found it kind of impressive how his expression had barely changed this entire time.

Osamu laughed, “I didn’t really want to spend any time with you, trust me. I just can’t do what I wanted to do with you here, but leaving immediately would’ve been suspicious.”

Sakuno’s eyes narrowed for a second, but he quickly returned to his usual apathetic stare. “Better luck next time, then.”

Osamu hummed, then headed back inside. He didn’t really want to go back to his room, but he didn’t want to have to hang out with Sakuno for longer than necessary.

He made his mind up and headed into Ranpo’s room. The boy was still awake, staring at Osamu sleepily. He had a laptop open on his lap. “Why are you here? I thought you didn’t like me.” Ranpo questioned. Osamu looked away. Why did he come in here?

Because he wanted to make sure Ranpo didn’t actually hate him.

No, that wasn’t it. Shut up.

Osamu just didn’t like being alone, and it was Ranpo or Sakuno. It was an easy decision to make. If he spent more time with Sakuno, he’d wake up with a few new injuries to add to his ever-growing collection. Ranpo was nicer, or at least he pretended to be.

“I felt lonely! You’ve been practically ignoring me ever since I recruited Sakuno.” Osamu whined. Ranpo seemed unamused. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Osamu paused. Why was Ranpo so upset about this?

“... Are you mad at me? Ranpo, you do understand that-”

“Of course I understand. I understand that Fukuzawa is doing his best for you, and you’re shoving it back in his face. Worse yet, you’re doing it behind his back.” Ranpo was angry. Ranpo was actually angry at him. Osamu didn’t know what to say.

How was he supposed to explain himself? Ranpo wouldn’t like whatever he had to say.

Wait, why was he so worried about what Ranpo thought of him?
His head hurt. He just wanted to go to bed.

“I’m sorry. I just want to go home.” He said it without thinking. Ranpo’s gaze softened. When had Osamu become so sappy? He was never apologising again.

“... I know. I just don’t like you treating Fukuzawa like that, even if it isn’t to his face.” Ranpo said, moving a bit to the side. “Come on then, I know why you’re here.”

Osamu got into Ranpo’s bed quietly, not letting himself utter a word. What if he said something stupid again?

“You think a lot, don’t you?” Asked Ranpo. Osamu tilted his head, “What.. do you mean?”

“I don’t think I could count the amount of times I’ve watched you stare into nothing with both my hands, and that’s saying something. You know you can talk to me, right? I may not like it, but it’s probably better to say something than keeping it bottled up.”

Osamu considered this. Maybe it would be better to say something about how he was feeling, but he knew Ranpo would just use it against him. He wasn’t supposed to have feelings. The only time he was allowed to have feelings was when he was with Mori, and even then, it depended on the situation. Osamu just lay down, staring at the ceiling.

“Just consider my offer.” Ranpo said before joining him, his laptop abandoned down the side of his bed.

Osamu had no idea what was going on. Why he was being so soft, why he was even with Ranpo right now, and most of all he didn’t understand why he was still here.

Wasn’t Mori going to come save him? Osamu had full trust that the man would, but it had been a while now. He was taking his time.

But Osamu had a feeling that after today, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

Chapter Text

Osamu woke up at 4:50am. It was earlier than usual for him, even if it was only 10 minutes. Ranpo was still asleep beside him, arms wrapped around Osamu’s waist. Osamu sighed, trying to figure out how to get out of his arms without waking the boy up.

He didn’t really manage it. As he slid out of Ranpo’s arms, the boy’s eyes blinked open and he looked up at Osamu curiously. “Getting up already?” Ranpo yawned, stretching in his bed.

Osamu nodded silently, before heading out of the room. He peeked into the living room, seeing Sakuno was still awake, on his phone. Osamu paid no mind to this, quietly heading into his bedroom and getting changed. He picked practically the same clothes, liking the look. He didn’t bother showering, not feeling up to changing his bandages. He then headed into the living room, sitting in Fukuzawa’s armchair. Sakuno paid no attention to him until Ranpo walked into the room.

“You’re up early.”

Ranpo smiled, nodding. “Just making breakfast, that’s all. Will you want any?” He asked happily. Sakuno shrugged, “Maybe. Depends what it is.”

Osamu paid little attention to them, laying on the chair lazily. He felt more rested than usual, but that was just attributed to not sleeping alone. He considered sleeping in Ranpo’s room more often, but he quickly drowned the thought. Ranpo was gross, and ugly. He’d never truly consider that.

Fukuzawa walked into the room around 20 minutes later, smiling softly at Osamu and Sakuno. Osamu simply rolled out of his chair, sitting next to Sakuno who certainly did not want him there. Ranpo walked out a bit later, with scrambled eggs and toast.

He handed Fukuzawa and Sakuno a plate, before sitting down with his own.

“So, are we going to work today?” Ranpo asked. Fukuzawa shook his head, “No. We have no important cases, and my interviews for clerks are tomorrow. I thought we could stay here today,” He took a sip of his coffee, “It’d be nice for you to get to know Sakuno, Osamu.”

Osamu held back a gag. “Are you kidding me? I’d sooner eat my own shoe!” He whined, scooting himself away from Sakuno for effect. Sakuno said nothing, looking as unamused as usual.

“How can you be expected to work with someone if you dislike them so much? I really do think you should at the very least try.” Fukuzawa spoke as calmly as ever, much to Osamu’s annoyance. “Ugh. If you’re gonna force me, fine. Don’t blame me if he winds up dead.”

“You think you could kill me? Please.” Sakuno muttered, taking a bite out of his toast. Osamu stuck his tongue out.

“Ranpo will also be there, if that’s any help.” Fukuzawa added. Ranpo grinned, before digging back into his breakfast. The morning continued like that, everyone doing their own thing. By around 7am, Fukuzawa was reading, Ranpo was playing a mobile game and Sakuno was probably hoping a missile would land on the building.

Osamu wasn’t up to much, simply scrolling through his text messages. He considered messaging Mori, begging him to turn up and take him home. Although, it suddenly seemed that he wouldn’t have to.

There was a knock at the door. Fukuzawa stood up, quickly heading over and opening it.

He quickly slammed it shut. His face was angry, angrier than it had been even when Osamu had first met him.

“Port Mafia agents. Outside.” He said. Sakuno and Ranpo quickly jumped up, arming themselves with whatever they had. Sakuno had two guns on him, but Ranpo couldn’t find anything, so Sakuno wordlessly handed him a pistol.

Fukuzawa ran into his room, coming out with his katana. Osamu simply stayed put, leaning over to grab one of Sakuno’s slices of toast. He was incredibly calm. Even his facial expression was level.

One of the agents opened the door, and 5 of them stepped into the room. They took a look at the group, but did not reach for their weapons.

“We are here to escort you to Port Mafia Headquarters.” The most threatening one, who was presumably the leader, said.

“That is not happening. How dare you break into my home?” Fukuzawa spat, his grip on his katana strong and angry. Sakuno aimed his gun at the agent’s head with precision.

“Kouyou Ozaki is on her way as we speak. You do not want to fight this.” The agent looked completely emotionless. Osamu smiled, hopping off the sofa with the toast in his mouth and standing next to Sakuno in amusement. The agent looked a bit off put by him, but continued.

“Nobody will be harmed if you comply.”

Fukuzawa gritted his teeth, but realised he had no option. He did not sheath his katana, but his grip loosened.

“Mori really sent out an executive for this? Wow, he really does miss me!” Osamu said through bites of toast. Sakuno glared at him, “Shut the fuck up.”

Osamu shrugged, before calmly walking past the agents and walking out the door. There were a surprising number of agents, and he could see Kouyou speaking to some more senior members of the Port Mafia in the distance. She had Golden Demon summoned, but looked uncomfortable.

Fukuzawa, Ranpo and Sakuno joined him a few seconds later, all looking rather pissed off. Osamu was surprised this situation was able to draw out some emotion from Sakuno, and he smiled at the man. Sakuno did not return it.

Sakuno whispered something to Fukuzawa before they headed into the car the Port Mafia had arranged for them. It was completely silent apart from the sounds outside. Osamu was finally starting to feel a bit more uncomfortable.

This seemed like a lot just for him. He knew Mori was angry, but this angry? He didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

Wait, what?

He didn’t want anyone to get hurt? The thought had surprised him. But it was true, wasn’t it? He didn’t want Ranpo hurt, he didn’t want Fukuzawa hurt, hell, he didn’t even want Sakuno hurt.

Would he really have to take the fall for them? Did he really care enough?

As the car drove off, Osamu had a feeling he was about to find out the answer to that.

-

They were escorted to Mori’s office by Kouyou. She had a sympathetic look on her face, or as much as Kouyou was capable of. The five stood in the elevator, Osamu in a corner. He was practically being shielded by the others, minus Kouyou. It wouldn’t be difficult for someone looking in to assume Osamu wasn’t even in the elevator.

He was almost thankful for it. It gave him time to think.

Obviously he was happy to have a chance to see Mori again. Why wouldn’t he? He loved the man to death. But there was something deep down that dreaded it. Something deep, deep down that didn’t want to be here.

But he didn’t want to acknowledge those parts of him. It made him look incredibly ungrateful.

The elevator opened, and Kouyou led the four to the door to Mori’s office. She did not look back at the group. She knocked once, before letting the four go inside. Ranpo gripped Osamu’s hand. He wasn’t sure if he appreciated the gesture or not.

“It’s nice of you to join me, everyone!” Mori smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Instead, they showed deep anger. Fukuzawa’s grip nearly moved to the hilt of his blade, but Sakuno quickly stopped him. They walked towards Mori, standing a little bit further away than in front of his desk.

“Your agents broke into my home. You forced Kouyou to escort us here against our will. What do you want from me, Ougai. I told you exactly why I was taking Osamu, and truthfully speaking I have less reason to give you him back than I previously held.” Fukuzawa was holding himself back from yelling, and the tone of his voice was anything but his usual calmness. He seemed to be having a hard time holding himself together.

“You had no right to take my son from me. Who cares what I do to him? Being that he called me a few days ago, I’d say he’s pretty fond of me.” Mori said, playing with a scalpel on his desk as if he was bored. Osamu knew better, though. It was a threat.

“He called you? Do you expect me to believe that?” Fukuzawa hissed. Ranpo’s grip on Osamu’s hand tightened. Mori looked towards him, amused.

“Ah, I see you’ve made a friend, Osamu. Ranpo, yes? It’s been quite a while.” He said, ignoring Fukuzawa. “I wish it was longer. You aren’t going to get Osamu back.” Ranpo stated, glaring daggers at Mori. He laughed, before turning his attention back to Osamu.

“It’s lovely to see your face again, dear.” He stood up, walking towards Osamu and the group. Ranpo almost fell over trying to pull Osamu away. Sakuno seemed to be considering his options, reaching behind him for his guns.

Osamu felt the colour drain out of his face at the realisation that the guards had allowed them to keep their weapons. Mori was practically begging for an excuse to kill them all. Osamu did not want that to happen.

He let go of Ranpo’s hand and fell into Mori’s arms before he could get close enough to the others. Mori’s breath hitched, and Osamu could almost hear his gaze softening. He did not turn back to look at the others' faces. He didn’t want to know what they looked like.

“I fear you were wrong, Ranpo. Yukichi, did you really think you could change his bond with me so easily?” Mori questioned, arms wrapped around Osamu like he was Mori’s possession.

Fukuzawa clenched his fist. “You’ve done unspeakable things to that boy. I may not understand why he clings to you, but whatever reason he has cannot be a good one. He doesn’t truly love you, Ougai.”

Osamu didn’t agree at all. Fukuzawa had no clue what he was talking about. He was also completely digging himself into a hole that he soon wouldn’t be able to crawl out of.

Sakuno was silent. Osamu assumed he was either formulating a good argument, or trying to register what he was just informed of. Fukuzawa and Mori kept arguing, voices growing fiercer. Osamu finally turned his face a little to watch the others.

Ranpo was standing next to Fukuzawa, trying his best to not look intimidated. He had his intelligence, but what was intellect when it came to this? Osamu knew Ranpo had come to the same conclusion.

It hurt to see them like this, and he didn’t know why. Maybe he had tricked himself into thinking they cared, but that wasn’t true. Mori was the only person who cared. Mori was the only person who wouldn’t abandon him.

That’s what he had always said, right?

Mori sighed, rolling his eyes. “I see this isn’t going to end in my favour without a fight. So, I will cut you a deal.” He let go of Osamu, sitting back down in his seat. Osamu just stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself.

“I will allow you to keep him in your care, on one condition.” Mori smiled calmly, staring into Fukuzawa’s eyes.

“If he makes any attempt to contact me, I will stop at no lengths to get him back. You can understand why, right?” Mori stated, his smile growing wider. It was as if he knew he had already won.

“That won’t be an issue. Osamu will not make an attempt to contact you.” Fukuzawa replied, crossing his arms. He had full faith in Osamu. It was an idiotic decision.

“Then you understand that if he does, I will do anything to get him back? I will go through hell and back, you know.” Mori questioned, resting his cheek on his hand. He looked almost amused.

“I do. Now, if there’s nothing else, we will be leaving.” Fukuzawa turned to leave.

Mori paused. “Actually, one last thing.”

He stood up, grabbed Osamu by his shoulders and kissed him. In front of everyone. Osamu’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

The room was silent for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Or it did until Sakuno grabbed Osamu’s wrist and stormed out of the room, eyes burning with rage. It was genuinely the most emotional Osamu had ever truly seen the man. The others, minus Mori, quickly joined them, heading into the elevator without a word.

Osamu had only one question on his mind.

What the fuck just happened?

-

Osamu had gone to his room immediately after returning home. He fell into his bed, hiding underneath the covers in an attempt to drown out the world. Drown out the thoughts about everything that just happened.

He stayed there for a while, unmoving, but after a while there was a knock at the door. It didn’t sound like Ranpo or Fukuzawa, so he peeked his head out to see Sakuno standing in the doorway.

He said nothing for a while, the two just staring at each other.

“... Are you okay?” Sakuno asked.

What a loaded question that was. How could he be okay after that? But, then again, why was he not? Wasn’t that normal?

Maybe it was because it was in front of everyone. He didn’t like feeling so vulnerable. Feeling so pitied.

Osamu shook his head, looking down. Sakuno sat on the bed next to him, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry I let that happen. I saw it coming, but I just,” He paused, trying to think of the right words, “I couldn’t. I should’ve shot him where he stood but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Osamu was surprised Sakuno actually felt remorse. He said nothing, but wordlessly moved towards him, laying his head on Sakuno’s thigh.

Sakuno was surprised, but made no move to push Osamu away.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think he’d do that. In front of all of you. I feel weird.” Osamu whispered. Sakuno nodded, picking at his fingernails. “I didn’t either. I didn’t think he’d sink that low.”

Osamu felt a strange feeling of comfort. For some strange reason, he felt safe. He felt truly safe, for the first time in a while.

Maybe he hadn’t been thinking about things correctly.

Maybe these people actually had his best interests in mind.

But he didn’t want to think about that. For now, he simply rested on Sakuno, letting himself sleep.

Chapter Text

Osamu woke up at 8AM the next day, which was rather late compared to his usual wake up time. He still felt tired, and considered just going back to sleep until he realised the events of last night.

He peeked his eyes open to see if Sakuno was still there, but found he was lying comfortably in bed, alone. He assumed Sakuno had placed him in his bed properly before leaving. It was a rather kind gesture, especially for someone like Sakuno. Osamu sighed, getting out of bed slowly. He felt mildly uncomfortable going out and facing everyone, but they had work today. He'd be spared their gazes for a few hours.

Which meant he was completely alone, to do whatever he pleased. How could they trust him not to do something idiotic? And more importantly, why wasn’t he doing something idiotic right now?
His hand twitched, inching towards his phone, but he did not grab it. It remained in his pocket.

Osamu instead resigned himself to sitting on the sofa, curled in a ball as he contemplated his life decisions for the millionth time. He got lost in his head ever so easily, but that was normal. Plus, how could he be expected not to think about what happened? How could he be expected to not consider calling Mori?

Was he going to call Mori?

The question stuck in Osamu’s mind for a while. He mulled it over, weighing the pros and cons until it crossed his mind that he shouldn’t be weighing the pros and cons. It was Mori, going back to him was the goal from the beginning. Now he had the ultimate “Get Out Of Jail Free” card, and he wasn’t using it. He was, in fact, trying to convince himself not to, which was the most confusing part.

How had he ever gotten to this point? How could he consider betraying the one person who loved him regardless of what he did?

Then again, was what Mori did really love?

Osamu thought about it more. Was what he did truly the way you were supposed to show your son affection? Mori had always said their relationship was different, but the level of disgust Fukuzawa, Ranpo and Sakuno had shown to it was… strange. It confused Osamu to the highest degree. He didn’t understand why they hated it so much, and he didn’t understand why he himself hated it.

Because he did hate some, if not a majority, of what Mori had him do.

His eyes slipped closed as these thoughts crossed his mind.

With such heavy thoughts, it was a bad idea to sleep. Osamu paid this fact no mind.

-

“Osamu, do you understand why I have to do this?” Mori said, standing over Osamu as he tried not to scream. Osamu bit his lip as he nodded.

“Good. I need to make sure this hurts, you know?” Mori nonchalantly kicked Osamu in the stomach, causing him to roll onto his arms, which had razor blades neatly forced into his bandages. Osamu couldn’t hold back a shriek this time.

Mori smiled. That was the worst part about the entire situation. There was a sick enjoyment in his eyes as Osamu tried his best not to bleed out on the ground. Osamu had tears streaming down his face, now. He was never someone to cry so easily, but maybe this was a good excuse.

Mori knelt down, brushing a hand against Osamu’s cheek. He had leaned into it, wanting to feel anything but the pain he was experiencing. “You’re doing so well, dear. I only picked you because I knew you were going to be so good for this testing. I’d never hurt you for any other reason.”

Osamu nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. That was true. Mori would never hurt him for sick enjoyment, how could he ever think that? This was simply something he needed to withstand, so it could be used on a member of the Port Mafia with a rather violent ability.

“Now, I think we’re done. You did amazingly, Osamu. Why don’t we get you patched up?” Mori said, looking at Osamu with an unsettling amount of adoration in his eyes. He was planning something.

After all of that, he was planning something. Osamu wondered when this was going to end.

He didn’t know what to believe in anymore.

-

Osamu woke up with a tear-stained face, and thanked his lucky stars he was alone. He looked at his arm bandages, ratty and in desperate need of changing. Not all of the scars they covered were his doing. Would a loving father do that? Would Fukuzawa do that to Ranpo?

Osamu settled on a big “NO” for that question. Fukuzawa wouldn’t ever do that to Ranpo. Nothing Mori did to Osamu would be done by a man like that. So why did Mori do it to Osamu, then? Was it because he was different from everybody else?

He knew he wasn’t human. He wasn’t deserving of humane treatment. But so many of the things Mori did hurt more than Osamu could handle. He didn’t know what he did to deserve it. Maybe it was simply better not to question it. There was no way he didn't deserve it. Mori was a reasonable person, and he wouldn’t do such things without prompting.

Whatever Mori did to Osamu, Osamu deserved worse. That was a fact he lived by. They dragged each other down. Osamu felt it was fitting that his father was the only person able to drag him down into the hell that he usually dragged others into.

Osamu was finally pulled out of his thoughts by the front door opening. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up and peering at the three in the darkness. Ranpo and Fukuzawa seemed cheerful as always, but Sakuno seemed a bit different. He seemed… calmer than he used to be. Maybe this job was finally getting to him, in a good way.

“Ah, Osamu. I thought you’d prefer staying home today, so we didn’t wake you up.” Explained Fukuzawa, sitting down in his chair. He looked a little tired, like the day at the Agency took quite a bit out of him. Ranpo sat down quickly after, smiling at Osamu. Sakuno hung back, not saying anything.

“Thank you. I appreciated it.” Osamu said, a lot more monotone than he meant. He did truly appreciate the gesture, but he had other things to worry about. Fukuzawa paid no mind to his tone.

“I bought you dinner, too. Sakuno is going to put it in the fridge, just eat it when you feel up to it.” He said, before reaching over and turning on the TV. Sakuno was indeed heading to the kitchen, a shopping bag in hand. Osamu nearly giggled at the thought of them making him into the Agency’s errand boy.

Sakuno saw this expression as he walked out, and glared at Osamu. “Listen, doing these favours beats being a postman.” He grumbled. Osamu burst out laughing, almost falling onto the floor.

“You? A postman? Oh my, that’s quite the downgrade.” He said through giggles. Sakuno threw up his arms in defeat. “You’d be surprised at how difficult that shit can be. I only did it for a year, though. I have the Agency now, better pay.” He explained. Osamu thought he seemed a bit happier than when they had originally met. Perhaps Fukuzawa finally got through to the man.

Osamu soon turned his attention towards the TV, watching whatever show Ranpo and Fukuzawa were watching. It was a local true crime documentary about unsolved Yokohama crimes. Osamu tried not to make a pleased face when things he had committed showed up.

Ranpo made sure to glance at him every time these crimes appeared, a knowing look on his face. Osamu was impressed and creeped out at the same time. Something about Ranpo was very confusing to name. Osamu decided he’d think about it later.

Osamu failed to not laugh, however, when a crime he knew very well Sakuno committed was on the screen. Sakuno hit him over the head with a newspaper, and Osamu stuck his tongue out.

Fukuzawa looked fairly happy. The three were finally getting along, and Osamu supposed he found that pleasing. He wondered how long it would take for things to be ruined.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

And Osamu realised it was up to him to decide.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t a struggle, really, making up an excuse to leave the room. Osamu had excused himself and hid in the bathroom, which nobody batted an eye to. He sighed, pulling out his phone and checking his texts.

Of course it was from Mori. Who else would text him? He had no friends in the Port Mafia, he had no friends at all. He had absolutely nobody, apart from Mori.

In the Port Mafia, at least.

Here it was different. Here, despite how insufferable they were, he had people he could go to. He could talk about things without running the risk of ending up in the Port Mafia’s dungeons.

Still, Mori was his father. He had an obligation to go back to him. If it wasn’t for Mori, he would still be on the streets, living in a shipping container and surviving off of the bare minimum he could find.

He didn’t understand why Mori had chosen him. What part of a small, homicidal, bandage covered 11 year old was appealing to the man? And why did he treat Osamu like more of a lover than a son?

That part made Osamu feel a bit weird. He felt a pit in his stomach the more he thought about it.

But he was spiralling now, and not paying attention to the actual contents of what Mori had sent him. Osamu took a deep breath, opening the text message.

[ I don’t expect you to call immediately, dear, but sooner or later you will realise how much better off you were with me. Don’t keep me waiting too long. ]

Osamu threw his phone without thinking, and it hit the floor with a painful crack. He winced a little, but didn’t check to see if it was actually broken. Instead, he curled up against the door and tried to figure out what to do.

If he didn’t call Mori soon, he was going to have hell to pay when he finally did go back.

Then again, who’s to say he ever had to go back?

The mafia was his entire life. He was obligated to go back.

Did he truly want to leave everyone behind?

Why did he care?

Mori was the only thing he was supposed to care about. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything but that.

He shouldn’t be letting his emotions consume him.

He couldn’t breathe.

Why couldn’t he breathe?

He needed to stop. He needed to distract himself. He shakily stood, bracing himself against the bathroom sink before slamming his hand into the mirror.

It was funny how harming himself had become second nature.

He only truly came to his senses when he realised he was on the floor again, drenched in his own blood with countless gashes across his arms, many far too deep to not need medical attention. But this time, there wasn’t any readily available medical attention. A broken smile found its way onto his face, as he realised this could truly spell the end for him.

Alas, Osamu Dazai would not entertain such a pitiful fate.

He had only just let his eyes slip closed when the door was forced open. He didn’t know what faces they were making, and his ears were ringing too much to make out voices, but he could feel the disappointment. He was quite the handful, and that was something Fukuzawa had most likely not considered.

He felt himself being lifted up. He could hear their voices better now, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Even so, he pitifully attempted to writhe out of the arms he was being held captive by. He probably would have made it, if he wasn’t tiptoeing the line between consciousness and unconsciousness.

The more that he thought about it, though, it wasn’t completely horrible to be held so close to someone. His face fell against someone’s collarbones, and he lost the battle to stay awake. He’d curse himself for it later.

-

Osamu had expected to wake up in a hospital. In fact, he was dreading opening his eyes due to this. Luckily for him, as he regained his senses he realised he was on a soft sofa, covered by a thin blanket. He peeked his eyes open, seeing Fukuzawa’s living room of all places. But his arms were freshly wrapped, and he could feel the stitches in his arms.

Either they took him to a hospital and snuck him out before he could be put on a psych hold, or someone here was more well-versed in medicinal practices than they let on.

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” a quiet voice whispered. Osamu turned his head, seeing Ranpo sitting across from him. Fukuzawa was nowhere to be seen, but Sakuno was asleep next to Ranpo, his face resting on his hand. It was somewhat impressive how he could keep himself sitting up while he rested.

Osamu held back a groan, finally registering the fact he was still very alive.

“Can I not just take the easy way out? This is cruel, y’know?” He said, his voice softer than he expected. He almost sounded like an upset child. Ranpo’s eyes grew almost pitiful.

“We can’t let you die on us, Osamu. You have so much potential, and yet you act like it’s null and void. Plus, you’re evidently fighting yourself on something. I want to help you with that fight.” Ranpo said, his voice matter-of-fact. Osamu forced himself to laugh.

“Fighting myself on something? I’m not one to do that, Edogawa. I have a plan, and that is the end of it. You pieces of shit aren’t keeping me here forever. Not when you don’t truly care.” Osamu’s voice was devoid of emotion, befitting his empty eyes.

But the truth of the matter was that he was panicking. He was doubling down on what he wanted them to think, purely because he was unbelievably scared. He couldn’t even place what he was so scared of.

He didn’t understand why he was finding it so hard to drown his emotions, especially one so pathetic, either. But either way, he wasn’t about to let a trace of it fall onto his features.

Ranpo had winced at the use of his last name, but he did not look like a man who was fighting a losing battle. Instead, he looked like someone who had just found out exactly what he wanted to know.

“Is that what you think it is? That we’re just going to use you for all your worth? Or, is it something else?” Ranpo paused, thinking, “Do you think we’re going to hurt you?”

Osamu bit his cheek. Ranpo’s gaze softened.

“You do, don’t you? You believe all of that, and more. There’s nothing I can say that’s going to fix what you think of us, but… I think you’ll grow to understand what we truly want.” His voice was soft, like he was talking to a child. Osamu hated it, he wanted nothing more than to pull out a gun and shoot Ranpo in the head.

But all he did was look to the ceiling.

Ranpo stood up, understanding that the conversation was over. Before he left, he whispered one thing.

“Your phone is broken, by the way. It’s on the table.”

Osamu curled up into a ball. This was worse than anything he thought was going to happen when he was first taken here.

He wasn’t being exploited, he wasn’t being hurt, he was just being pitied.

They treated him like a child. A broken, crying child lost in a darkness they didn’t understand. The worst part was that they were trying. They were trying to help him, trying to understand, but that was impossible.

He wasn’t human. He was too far gone for anyone to ever consider him that. He was a demon, a perfectly moulded monster. He had killed far too many for his age, and he regretted none of it. Someone like that was not deserving of kind treatment.

But despite all this, he was making no moves to leave. He was, in fact, making it more difficult for himself to call Mori and get out of here. He had smashed his phone, the only one in this household to have Mori on speed dial. He knew full well it was intentional, even though he pretended it wasn’t.

He didn’t want to let himself call Mori.

He did not want to go back to the Port Mafia.

Maybe that’s what he was scared of. Letting himself register the fact that he didn’t want to go home. Letting himself register the fact that the only Mori he truly wanted to go back to was the one he had fabricated in his mind.

Osamu felt genuinely sick at that thought. He didn’t want to admit to himself that it was true. He loved Mori, there was no doubt about that, but he wasn’t indestructible. He didn’t think he could face the man again after being free from such treatment.

He hadn’t had this much time without being hurt, in one way or another, for a long time. He understood that their relationship was fucked up, now. He just didn’t know if he deserved it.

What he did deserve, however, was the hell he’d face if he ever went back. It would be a punishment from both sides. Hell for abandoning Ranpo, Fukuzawa and Sakuno. Hell for forcing Mori to go through the pain of losing a child, even if it were only temporary.

Osamu leaned over, grabbing his phone off the coffee table. Sakuno was still asleep, not noticing anything Osamu was doing.

Osamu sat up, peeling off his bloodstained phone case and taking out the contents. He slipped the razor into his pocket, before unfolding the photo.

He stared at it for a while. It was a 'family photo' of him and Mori that had been taken on Osamu’s 12th birthday. It had never left Osamu’s side since the day he got it. In all honesty, it was his most prized possession.

Was he truly willing to leave that behind? He wasn't sure. But was it worth going through all the pain, for the glimpses of true love and affection that Mori showed him when he was good?

And finally, what would happen when Mori realised he wasn’t going to come back? He was self-admittedly not a patient man, and Osamu dreaded the things he was capable of. Not to him, but to the others.

He slid the photo and folded-up note onto the coffee table, placing his destroyed phone over them so as to not let anyone see them unless they were looking for it.

Osamu was running out of options. There seemed like no true escape from putting people through hell.

Osamu decided that this was the reason his goal would change. It was evidently not to go home anymore.

His plan now was to make sure the only person who got hurt by his decision was him.

This was going to be easier said than done, but Osamu was a determined person.

He was going to see this through, no matter what.

Chapter Text

Osamu woke up to an empty house. He didn’t think it was a particularly smart idea to leave a suicidal teenager unattended, but he wasn’t complaining. It’d be nice to finally have the opportunity to snoop through people’s things, right?

He started with Sakuno’s rather beat-up looking bag. He peered into it, but it was practically empty. 2 packs of cigarettes, a spare lighter, and a note. Sakuno had taken his phone with him, which Osamu was only a little disappointed about. He didn’t bother checking the note. It wasn’t his business.

Then he traversed into the hellscape that was Ranpo’s bedroom. There were candy wrappers everywhere, practically drowning him. How had Ranpo managed this within a day? He abandoned his mission to snoop through Ranpo’s things rather quickly.

Finally, Osamu opened the door to Fukuzawa’s bedroom.

It was modest, all things considered. A framed photo of Ranpo and Fukuzawa sat against his bedside table, along with an alarm clock and a book, with an expensive-looking bookmark in it.

Osamu opened a drawer warily, hoping he wouldn’t see anything too traumatising.

And he didn’t really, at least not in the way he thought.

He picked up a photo that lay face-down on the bottom of the drawer, eyes filled with shock and confusion.

It was a photo of Fukuzawa when he was probably around 17, but that wasn’t the worst part.

Ougai Mori stood next to him.

-

Yukichi had only ever known the concrete room he dwelled in and the boy he shared it with. For the first 17 years of his life, he hadn’t left it once.

The two had been kidnapped by their ‘father’, Soseki Natsume, early into their lives. Before they were even a year old. Ougai was kidnapped first, proceeded by Yukichi a year later. A boy and a girl. At least, that’s what it was meant to be.

They were raised on one simple thing. That their life goal would be passing on the legacy of finding something simply known as ‘The Book’, like their father before them, and his family before him.

It didn’t take long for the two to be disillusioned with the whole idea. Not only did it seem completely irrelevant to them, but it was associated with their father, whom the two despised deeply. And maybe if things stayed like that, the events of Yukichi and Ougai’s lives would have been different. But their father was always manipulative.

On June 20th, 2000, long after the two had moved out and tried to distance themselves from their father, they got a call.

-

Yukichi and Ougai arrived, facing their father. Ougai seemed far more nervous than Yukichi about the whole ordeal.

“The Book is now here. He has been born.” Said their father, a note of insanity in his eyes that could only spell disaster. Yukichi braced himself, and Ougai gripped his hand tighter, their hands hidden behind Yukichi’s back.

“.. And what does that have to do with us?” Yukichi asked, trying his best to keep himself stable. He wasn’t about to show weakness in front of Natsume, of all people.

“Because this is what I raised you two for.” Natsume said. He had said a few more words, but Yukichi enjoyed ignoring whenever his father said the name he had abandoned many years ago.

“.. What do you want us to do, father?” Asked Ougai. Yukichi shot him an angry look, reading as ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’.

“I need you to capture him.”

Yukichi had heard enough. He had heard enough before Natsume had even opened his mouth, the look in his eyes saying enough. He stormed out of the room without a second thought.

Ougai did not follow.

-

[ Dear Yukichi,

I hate to be writing to you like this, but I fear I am running out of options. The work they are asking of me to take care of this child is dreadful. Their name is Shuu Tsushima, and I suppose that alone tells you part of my troubles. They're only a toddler, but this child is one of the most unstable people I've ever come into contact with, despite being so young. I need to know if you have any ideas at all on how to deal with this situation. If you need more details, Natsume has them, but for now I leave you with this. Please reply whenever you can.

From, Ougai Mori ]

[ Dear Ougai,

Thank you for writing to me. I asked for details, but I only really got what I already knew. But I still only have a few things to say regarding your question. I don't believe you should have agreed to this in the first place. This is incredibly dangerous work if the Tsushima family is involved. No matter how worth it you think it is, this cannot be worth your life. Don't put yourself in danger for the greater good, you know we need you here. I know I cannot stop you, but please take my thoughts into account. For actual advice... I suppose I only have one other option for you. Bringing the child into our care. I do not know the full specifics on why they are there, but perhaps bringing them to us (specifically us, not Natsume) would benefit them. A hospital is no place to raise a child. I hope you consider my thoughts.

Yukichi Fukuzawa ]

-

Osamu’s name was not Osamu Dazai at this point in time. Their name was Shuu Tsushima, a girl confined to a laboratory, named after the founder of the organisation who had created them. They were a human created in a lab. A vessel for The Book to enter this world in a physical form.

All they had known in the beginning was the lab, the doctors they hated, and one they did not.

His name was Ougai Mori. They did not know what their future would hold together at this point. Ougai hadn’t changed yet.

At 5 years old, Shuu had learned that Dr Mori, or ‘Mr Ougai’ as they usually said, was the only trustworthy person in their world. They did not know he was only there by Natsume’s orders, and they didn’t need to know.

He was nice, they thought. He always slipped them candy that they weren’t allowed to eat, and Shuu appreciated it despite their low appetite. He was always kind when it came to important tests that Ougai was assigned to perform, and he hadn’t done the horrific things the other doctors and professors had.

He loved them as a father would his daughter, while the other doctors treated Shuu like some kind of lab rat. Technically speaking, they were, but that didn’t mean they deserved to be treated without an ounce of humanity.

Shuu was blissfully unaware of what would become of the two in the near future. Unfortunately for them, things changed when they were 8 years old.

-

“They’re gone.”

Yukichi hadn’t expected the call. Ougai had called him in a panic, his frantic voice almost screaming through the phone. It had been 2 years since the two lost contact. Yukichi assumed that he had become too wrapped up in work. He knew better now.

“What do you mean? You mean, Shuu?” Yukichi asked tentatively, keeping his voice as composed and calm as possible.

“Yes, I mean Shuu! They’re just- gone! In the middle of the night! Cameras have been wiped, nobody saw whoever took them, I- I don’t know what to do!”

The panic in Ougai’s voice was familiar. It was almost insane. Yukichi paled.

His suspicions that Natsume had fully gotten to him were confirmed in an instant.

“Please..” Ougai started, his voice broken, “Please meet me. I need you.”

Yukichi didn’t need to hear more.

-

Shuu had been kidnapped by the Dazai family. His father was the one who worked there, becoming a little obsessed with the idea of stealing The Book for himself. His wife seemed happy with the idea, not caring enough about the child in her care to stop whatever her husband was planning. She had never cared about his work. She had never seemed to care about him at all, actually.

It was a wonder why the two were together.

Osamu was 9 years old now, still not by the name of ‘Osamu Dazai’, but not a name he’d ever be comfortable sharing with others. A bit too feminine for his taste.

He was growing sick of the treatment his family put him through. He didn’t remember the lab anymore, but he knew there was something… better out there. Life didn’t need to be consumed by his father’s attempts to figure out how to use ‘The Book’. The scars in the shape of words across his thighs was proof enough of that.

So he had made up his mind. And now, he stood above the two maimed bodies of the couple who once called themselves his parents. It was a gruesome sight, and he was covered head to toe in blood. Yet, he felt nothing.

Wasn’t he supposed to feel sorrow? Regret? Is that not what people go through after they commit murder for the first time?

Maybe Osamu wasn’t a person at all.

He lit the house on fire without a second thought, destroying the evidence of the sins he had committed.

He did not notice the man watching him escape the burning building. He did not notice the wide smile.

But someone had.

That story, however, was not one anyone could tell. Not yet.

-

Yukichi couldn’t believe that Mori was the same boy he had grown up with anymore. What he had seen in that short visit after the long time spent apart had been… horrifying. Who says those kinds of things about a 12 year old?

He rested his head in his hands, a glass of too many mixes of strong alcohol set in a much too big glass before him. It was almost empty.

What could have happened to him in those 2 years when they lost contact for the first time? What horrors did Ougai experience to turn him into… this? Did losing Shuu drive him completely insane?

Ougai had been Yukichi’s entire life for sixteen years. Sixteen years of the two only ever knowing each other, only having each other for comfort. They did everything together.

And he had been such a kind child. An asshole at the best of times, Yukichi would admit, but kind nonetheless. Yukichi would be in complete denial about what Ougai had grown into if he didn’t know better.

He felt hatred bubble in his chest for his self-proclaimed ‘father’ as he took another sip, holding back a gag.

He was going to fix things. He wouldn’t rest until he did.

His only regret in the future would be being forced to wait 2 years to do the right thing.

-

“Going through other people’s things?”

Osamu flinched, dropping the photo and spinning around. He instinctively reached for his gun, but he didn’t have that anymore. So he just raised his fists.

It was Sakuno.

“I was just in the bathroom. You realise we wouldn’t leave you alone, right?” He said, sounding a little interested.

“Ah- I was just.. curious, is all.” Osamu stuttered out, embarrassment seeping into his expression and words. Sakuno laughed. He seemed a lot calmer these days.

“Can’t blame you. Fukuzawa isn't very talkative about his past. Can’t blame him.” He said, amused by the situation. Osamu looked at him curiously.

“What do you mean you can’t blame him?”

Sakuno just shrugged. “You should probably get out of here before Ranpo and Fukuzawa get home. He won’t be happy if he knows you’ve been snooping through his things.” He said. Osamu was starting to get annoyed by how nonchalant he was.

But he complied, adjusting the photo into the position he found it in and shutting the drawer.

“Good. Now, go eat the food I got you before it goes bad. I paid for it myself.”

Osamu nodded wordlessly, walking past Sakuno and heading into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, placing the curry Sakuno had bought into the microwave.

That photo was… strange. There was something odd about the feel of it, but Osamu knew he wouldn’t be allowed to ask about it. What a shame.

Maybe things would be revealed to him eventually, but he didn’t really care too much.

Who cares about Fukuzawa and Mori’s weird backstory, anyway?

Chapter Text

Osamu took his time eating his curry. It was a bit too spicy for his taste, but Sakuno’s eyes staring daggers at him made him eat it nonetheless.

The two didn’t say anything to each other for a long time, until Sakuno cleared his throat.

“I picked something up for you when I was at the Agency. Fukuzawa doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but I don’t really care all that much.” He said, placing a case file on the table. Osamu looked at it curiously.

“And why would I care about a case?” He said, before taking another bite of the curry. Sakuno just shrugged.

“You don’t have to care about it, but I’m gonna be forced to work it either way. I just thought you’d be useful working with me.”

This was an interesting development. Sakuno wanted Osamu to work with him, fully against the orders of Fukuzawa? It was strange.

He sighed dramatically, placing the curry on the table and picking up the file. He flipped it open, peering at the contents.

It appeared to be one of the files Ranpo had discarded, shown by the candy wrapper Osamu had to pry off one of the pages. But it was interesting.

“Going after a member of the Sheep? That seems a tad dangerous.” Osamu said nonchalantly. He wasn’t a big fan of the Sheep, finding their recruitment methods incredibly annoying. They hadn’t left him alone for weeks last time.

“He’s a contact of mine, and that organisation is shit.” Sakuno said shortly, evidently not a fan, either. Osamu read further, “So, our target is Chuuya Nakahara?”

Sakuno nodded, “He’s a piece of work. I’d say be careful, but you wouldn’t listen to me either way.” Osamu laughed, “Obviously. He looks annoying, in any case. I’ll crush his spirits and he’ll have no choice but to abandon them and die!”

Sakuno stared at him blankly, not a trace of emotion on his face. Osamu blinked at him expectantly.

“... That isn’t the point of a recruitment mission.”

Osamu rolled his eyes at that, scoffing, “No, the point of these missions is to recruit people before organisations like the Port Mafia get their hands on them. I know that very well.” He muttered. This ‘Nakahara’ kid sounded.. strong. Someone the Port Mafia should definitely get their hands on.

But he was objectively pretty. Pretty enough that Osamu was not going to let him near the Port Mafia. Call it jealousy. He’d prefer that to any other explanation.

Because did he have his other reasons? Yes. Was he going to mention them? Fuck no. He’ll make sure his reasoning seemed as petty as possible when he inevitably got questioned about his loyalty.

And hey, if he wasn’t going back to the Port Mafia anytime soon, he may as well act like a good Agency employee.

“Oh, I forgot to mention something.” Sakuno added absent-mindedly. Osamu looked up at him. “Hm? What is it?” He asked curiously.

“This mission is going to act as your Agency Entrance Exam, since my recruitment mission didn’t exactly work as one.” Sakuno said. Osamu held back a laugh, “Because you stabbed me?”

“No, because you didn’t give me a choice.”

“Ah.”

So he was going to have to be nice about it this time around. That was going to be a struggle, especially because he could already feel the fact that he and Chuuya were not going to get along in his very soul.

“Get ready, and then we’ll head out. I know you’re injured, but maybe that means he’ll take pity on you.”

Osamu nodded, standing up and heading to his bedroom. This was going to be a long day.

-

The two arrived at their destination fairly quickly, all things considered. The sun shone brightly above them, but it didn’t make the run-down Suribachi city any more likeable. Osamu thought the place was incredibly ugly. Arguably uglier than Sakuno, but maybe that was a push.

“So, where’s the kid?” Osamu asked, checking his nails to display his disinterest. Sakuno looked around, pausing for around 5 seconds. “You won’t have to wait long.”

Before Osamu could question that, he got thrown into a wall. He went straight through it, landing in a pile of rubble.

“Man, this place does not have good infrastructure!” He whined, before opening his eyes and looking at what was thrown into him.

It was the kid. How lucky!

“What.. It’s just a kid? The Port Mafia is really running out of men.” Chuuya muttered, anger evident in his voice.

“Nope! Not Port Mafia. Armed Detective Agency, actually!” Osamu chirped. Chuuya looked confused and angry now. Was he perpetually pissed off, or something?

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t kick my friend into the wall?” Said Sakuno, walking towards the two with a bored expression. Chuuya’s head whipped towards him.

“Oda? The fuck are you doin’ here? You work with this prick?” Chuuya growled. Sakuno nodded, “Not willingly.”

“It’s rude to make assumptions about people, you know?” Osamu complained, shifting a little in the rubble. Everything hurt. Owch.

“You look like an ass. It’s an honest assumption.”

Osamu rolled his eyes. This kid was so painfully annoying.

And pretty. Why couldn’t he stop thinking that? Gross! He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Ugh.. Whatever. Get off of me.” Osamu pushed against Chuuya’s leg. Chuuya sighed, reluctantly getting off Osamu and helping him up.

“So, if you two aren’t Port Mafia, why are you here?” He asked, placing his hands in his pockets. Sakuno answered before Osamu got the chance, “We’re here to offer you a place within our organisation, actually.”

Chuuya nodded, “Well, thanks, but I already have one. You know I’m a member of the Sheep.”

“And I’ve already told you-”

“And I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it.” Chuuya cut Sakuno off, who just sighed. “Of course you don’t.”

“I have a lot riding on this, so I’m not giving up on you that easily.” Osamu said, casually wrapping an arm around Chuuya. He looked somehow even more pissed off, now.

“I don’t care about your needs. I’m a loyal member of the Sheep, asshole. Get off of me.” Chuuya growled. Osamu felt he acted like an angry dog.

“Well, why don’t you introduce me to them? I’ll see how they treat their lovely members, and we’ll leave if I find you to be happy there!” Osamu said. He had a good idea of what was going on.

The Sheep had wanted Osamu for his nullification ability. There was no way their reasoning for keeping Chuuya around wasn’t similar.

“..Fine. Whatever.”

Osamu smiled. He was going to win this little game.

-

Osamu hated these Sheep members more than the last ones.

“Chuuya! You can’t just run off with some.. random people!” Said the grey-haired one that Osamu didn’t care to remember the name of. The pink one clung to Chuuya’s arm. He looked mildly uncomfortable, but that was about it.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve made that clear a buncha times, Shirase.” Chuuya grumbled, looking away from the group. He evidently did not want to be doing this.

They sat in a cafe in town, Osamu having insisted they meet at some place outside that grimey city.

“So, why are you with these guys, anyway?” Shirase asked, eyeing Osamu and Sakuno warily. Osamu rolled his eyes, and was about to speak, but Chuuya beat him to it.

“They’re.. wondering if they can join our ranks. That’s all.” He said quickly, trying hard to act like that didn’t just pop into his mind. It was a lame excuse, Osamu thought. Nonetheless, the two bought it.

“These two..? They don’t seem like Sheep material, Chuuya. You sure?” Shirase looked at Chuuya, trying to search for any trace of a lie. It was painted all over his face, and Osamu almost laughed at how amateur these people were.

Yet Chuuya seemed like he had to dumb himself down for them. There seemed to be quite the hidden intelligence to him. It was strange, really. He hid his brain behind his emotions, the opposite to how Osamu was trained. It seemed to come in handy for Chuuya, though.

“I’m sure. They’d be helpful, plus I know Oda from the past.”

Sakuno held back a laugh. Osamu decided he’d quiz the two later.

“I’m just not sure we need any more help. I mean, with how strong of a leader you are..”

“I’m not-.. Yeah, sure, whatever. I just thought our whole thing was savin’ people. We shouldn’t refuse to let people join when they need our help, just ‘cause we’ve already got strong people, or whatever.” Chuuya explained, not batting an eye.

Shirase looked unconvinced, but eventually sighed, nodding. “Fine. I’ll trust your judgement, but.. I wanna talk to the kid alone.”

Osamu perked up a little. The grey one wanted to talk to him? How interesting.

Chuuya nodded, gesturing to Sakuno and the pink girl. The three waited outside.

“.. So, what’s your name, kid?” Shirase asked. He was staring daggers at Osamu.

“Ah, I am so glad you asked! My name is Osamu Dazai-”

“Of the Port Mafia?”

Osamu trailed off. He blinked up at Shirase curiously.

“Ah.. May I ask where you’ve heard that information?” He asked innocently, trying to paint himself as unthreatening as possible.

“Your connections to the new Port Mafia boss precede you.” Shirase spat, looking incredibly angry. “What do you want with Chuuya, hm? Recruit him into your little shithole? I’ll have you know-”

Osamu tuned Shirase’s little rant out, thinking to himself. This was the perfect opportunity to start sowing discord, and plant doubts about Chuuya’s loyalty in Shirase’s mind.

But… The point of this was to make Chuuya join on his own accord, not drive him out of an organisation through manipulation. That was the Port Mafia’s way of doing things, not the Armed Detective Agency’s way.

He took a deep breath, biting his cheek. This was going to be so much more difficult than necessary.

“I actually no longer work for the Port Mafia, funnily enough.” Osamu said, cutting off whatever Shirase was saying.

The grey haired boy paused, squinting at Osamu. “.. You defected?”

“More or less.”

Shirase tilted his head, “So, That’s why you’re trying to join the Sheep? For protection against the Mafia?”

Osamu hummed, shrugging. “Joining you was actually Chuuya’s idea. I couldn’t care either way, but past experiences say you’ll find my ability rather useful.”

Shirase nodded, “Yeah.. Akira tried recruiting you about a year ago, right? You refused then.” He paused, adjusting in his seat a little. He looked a bit more comfortable now.

Osamu was winning.

“But, if you’re willing to join now, then I guess I have no reason to fight it. Just don’t mess with Chuuya. Between you and me, he’s kinda the only thing keeping us afloat right now.”

Osamu smiled sweetly, “Don’t worry about that. I have no intention of messing with Chuuya.”

It seemed the Sheep were quite trusting with who resided within their ranks. Divulging such important information about their organisation was a terrible move, and made it painfully clear this was an organisation built from inexperienced children.

“Good. You’ll be real useful to us with all the information you have on the Port Mafia.” Shirase grinned, before getting up. “C’mon, let’s not keep them waiting.”

Osamu nodded, following. It was a shame he had to give up such a good opportunity to get Chuuya on his side, but it didn’t matter. He came up with a better plan, anyway.

He was going to show Chuuya the truth.

-

The Sheep members blabbed about nothing in particular the entire way back to their hideout. Osamu was already tired of their behaviour. Chuuya seemed tired of it, too. He stuck to the back of the group, nearer Sakuno and Osamu.
“Anyway, here’s the place. It’s not much, definitely not anything you’d be used to, Dazai, but it’s better than nothing.” Shirase said, gesturing to a large abandoned building. “I’ll get you our member bands later, for now just.. I don’t know, try not to make a mess. C’mon, Yuan, Chuuya.”

He gestured at the two to follow him. The pink girl, Yuan, followed without question, but Chuuya didn’t move. “Actually, I’ll.. stick around with these guys for now. That okay?”

Shirase grumbled a little, but nodded. He then headed inside, leaving the three alone.

“.. So you joined us.” Chuuya said, turning towards Osamu, who just smiled. “Well, why not? Shirase had no qualms once I brought up my ability.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened a little.

“... What? D’you mean, you mentioned your ability and they just.. let you in?” Chuuya looked genuinely shocked. Osamu just smiled at him.

“Mhm! Seems they were really desperate for someone who could nullify, and also someone who had Port Mafia secrets.” He grinned. Chuuya made a face, looking away.

“.. Figures.”

“Oh? What’s with the sad face, Chuuya?”

Chuuya didn’t answer, just sitting on the ground. Osamu sat down next to him.

“You’re conflicted about something. What is it?” Sakuno asked, sitting down in front of Chuuya. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Osamu groaned, leaning back, “C’mon, Chuuya. This isn’t exactly helping my whole mission.”

“Why can’t you accept that I just don’t wanna join you?” Chuuya spat, glaring at Osamu. He looked like something was getting to him.

“Because it doesn’t seem like the truth.” Osamu said.

Chuuya looked at the two, gritting his teeth. Osamu took that as an okay to continue.

“Shirase admitted this organisation would be nothing without you. I know what it’s like to feel like you owe someone something purely because they’ve done something for you, but at the end of the day, I think you’ve done enough for them.” Osamu explained, straightening as he spoke.

“How can you know I’ve done enough? They saved my life, for fucks sake! I can’t just abandon them!”

“So you won’t abandon a terrible organisation that doesn’t value you as a human, but as a means to an end, purely because they saved you?” Osamu asked. His tone was awfully blank, now. Chuuya turned away, “How do you know they don’t value me?”

Osamu thought to himself, pausing for a moment.

“It was all in how they treated you. They berated you for running off to do your own things for.. what, a few hours? Glared at you when you didn’t follow them in to do more work for the organisation? How much free time do you actually get, Chuuya?” Osamu asked calmly. Chuuya didn’t answer.

“I figured it wasn’t much. I’m not telling you to abandon them because I want to use you for myself. I’m telling you that you deserve better than this. You deserve to be treated like a human being instead of a weapon.”

Chuuya stayed silent, not looking at either of them.

“I tried explaining this to him a bit ago, but he just shut me down. I don’t think you’re gonna get anywhere.” Sakuno muttered, lighting up a cigarette. Osamu sighed, “I thought I’d try. If Chuuya wants to go down with this organisation, so be it.” He said, standing up.

“.. Wait.”

Chuuya turned around, standing up next to Osamu. “... I’ve heard of you before.”

Osamu looked a bit confused. “Hm?”

“You’re the Demon Prodigy. That’s why I assumed you were Port Mafia when I saw you.” Chuuya said.

Osamu tensed a little. Where was he going with this?

“But.. If something gave you a reason to defect. It must be good, right?” Chuuya asked. Osamu didn’t really know what to say. He swore he’d tell Chuuya the truth, but were the details of his association with the Agency really pertinent?

Chuuya sighed, “I just mean I’ll check it out. I make no promises about actually joining you, but I just want to see what it’s like there.”

Osamu smiled at him, genuinely this time. It felt kind of good to convince him to at least take a look at the Agency.

“Well then, that’s settled! We’ll head out in the morning, then. I think Shirase might be a bit mad if we disappear on him.” Osamu said, taking Chuuya’s hand and heading inside the building. Sakuno followed, looking as unbothered as always.

-

The sleeping arrangements were terrible. Absolutely, dreadfully terrible. They slept in a room full of a bunch of other kids, on stolen mattresses. It was nothing like what Osamu was used to.

Plus, the wristband didn’t go with his bandages and it was scratchy. He could complain endlessly about the Sheep.

Even so, it was better than nothing. He had insisted on sleeping next to Chuuya, and currently found himself most comfortable using Chuuya himself as a mattress. The boy had complained endlessly, and tried to fight Osamu off of him, but to no avail.

Now, it was morning. Sakuno had woken up before them, or maybe he just hadn’t slept at all, but it wasn’t a big deal. Chuuya was just staring up at the ceiling when Osamu woke up, and he hadn’t even pushed Osamu off of him in the middle of the night. How sweet.

“God, you sleep like a fuckin’ rock.” Chuuya complained, finally shoving Osamu off of him. Maybe he wasn’t all that sweet, then.

“Good morning to you too, Chuuya! What a rude awakening…” Osamu poked his face, before standing up and looking around. “What time is it, then?”

“About 5?” Chuuya said, looking around. “Pretty much everyone is still asleep, so we’d better get moving if we wanna get out of here before they wake up.”

Osamu nodded, deciding not to question why Chuuya was awake before him.

“Yep! I’ll introduce you to my esteemed boss.”

Sakuno grimaced, “Fukuzawa told you not to call him that.”

Osamu just grinned at him, before dragging Chuuya off the floor and heading towards the exit.

This was going to be quite the adventure.

Chapter Text

The three arrived at Fukuzawa’s house at 7AM, Osamu not even bothering to knock as he barged through the door. Sakuno and Chuuya followed, the two more reserved.

“I’m home! And I brought a friend!” Osamu practically shouted at the room, Ranpo and Fukuzawa turning to him curiously before their eyes fell onto Chuuya.

“That.. was quick.” Fukuzawa said, a soft smile on his face. He stood, walking towards the three.

“My name is Yukichi Fukuzawa. I am the president of the Armed Detective Agency. It’s nice to meet you.” Fukuzawa had a rather calm tone to his voice, determined to not scare the boy away. He had evidently read Chuuya’s file and heard about his… volatile personality.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. I’m Chuuya, but.. Well, you know that.” Chuuya said, looking a little nervous. He probably wasn’t used to talking to adults he wasn’t about to kick the head off of.

Osamu watched the exchange, trying to decipher Chuuya’s thoughts. Other than the nervousness, there didn’t seem to be much. “Just to not get any hopes up, he’s only here to check out the organisation. I tried my best, but he’s quite the loyal dog.” Osamu said, wrapping an arm around Chuuya’s shoulder yet again and patting his head. Chuuya’s eyes burned with rage, but he kept his mouth shut.

“That’s okay. I understand you may not want to abandon your organisation, but I do hope you find yourself liking the Armed Detective Agency. We’d be delighted to add you to our ranks.” Fukuzawa said, still calm as ever. It was almost annoying to Osamu at this point.

After a few more moments of Fukuzawa and Chuuya talking that Osamu had tuned out, the group decided to make their way to the Armed Detective Agency to start the day. It was a rather tight fit in the car, Chuuya ending up squished between Ranpo and Osamu. He wasn’t even the shortest, but Osamu had nearly thrown a tantrum at the thought of sitting in the middle seat, and at the thought of admitting Chuuya was slightly taller than him. He had a feeling that wouldn’t last long.

Then again, he didn’t truly care. However he was determined to annoy Chuuya as much as possible. Maybe that would be detrimental to him deciding to join the ADA, but Osamu didn’t really consider it. Something about Chuuya made him want to mess with the boy as much as he could.

They arrived at the ADA after a few minutes of driving, the group getting out of the car, heading through the café and making their way to the fourth floor. Fukuzawa quickly headed into his office, telling the teenagers to do whatever they thought they needed to, and that he’d be back soon.

“So…” Osamu started, taking off his trench coat and sitting on his desk, “What do you think of Fukuzawa?” He asked. Chuuya looked a bit torn. “I mean, he’s great, and this place is certainly an upgrade, but…” He trailed off, looking away.

“You don’t wanna abandon the Sheep, hm? You’re just like Osamu!” Ranpo said as he sat cross-legged on his desk, diving into a packet of candies he had stashed. Chuuya looked personally offended by that statement.

“Wha- I’m nothing like that bandaged idiot! Hell, the Sheep is nothing like the Port Mafia!” Chuuya spat, genuinely disgusted by the accusation. Ranpo giggled to himself, popping a candy into his mouth. “I wouldn’t be so sure. The only difference is-”

“Are we going to get any work done today?” Sakuno interrupted, preventing an argument before it occurred. Osamu was a little disappointed by that, but he didn’t point it out. “Hmm.. I suppose so. What boring shit can we wrap up to give Chuuya a taste of the ADA?” Osamu asked, looking over at Ranpo. The boy shrugged, pulling out a few case files.

“I haven’t really seen anything worthwhile. We usually dump newbies on recruitment missions, but… Well, that’s not an option. What about this?” Ranpo said, dumping a file unceremoniously on the floor.

Osamu peered down at it.

“.. An unsolved murder? Seriously?” Osamu asked, looking disinterested. Ranpo just laughed, “Well, I think it’d be fun for you and the group! Take a look, Osamu.”

Osamu sighed, before picking up the file and flipping through it.

He turned to stare at Ranpo. Ranpo stared back, unflinchingly. The two seemed to exchange an entire conversation with just their eyes.

Chuuya looked between the two, “Uh.. What the fuck are you two doin’?” He asked. Osamu quickly broke the staring contest, turning to Chuuya. “Ah, nothing. This case should be an easy one. Even someone as dull as you can figure it out!” Osamu said, casually passing the file to Chuuya. He didn’t seem particularly interested in it.

“What if I don’t wanna solve a dumb case for your shitty organisation?” He muttered, placing the file on Osamu’s desk. Osamu thought for a second, trying to figure out what he could say to convince the boy.

“Hmm.. Whoever solves it first, gets to order the loser around for 24 hours! How does that sound?” Osamu offered, smiling innocently. Chuuya seemed to lighten up at that, “So I just solve an easy case and you have to obey my every word?”

Osamu nodded happily, “Yep! It goes both ways, though. If I solve it, you follow my orders!”

Chuuya grimaced. “I’m gonna solve this fuckin’ case and make you throw yourself off a bridge.”

“He’d probably do that anyway..” Sakuno muttered under his breath. Osamu stuck his tongue out at him.

“Well then! I’m glad you’re so interested. Let’s get going, shall we?”

With that, Osamu grabbed his trench coat off the chair, draping it over his shoulders before departing from the room. He didn’t check to see if anyone was following.

In truth, Osamu already knew the answer to the case. It was pretty easy to figure out, being that he was the killer.
But that didn’t matter too much. He was very curious to see if Chuuya could figure out such an elaborate twist.

-

The group arrived at the scene of the murder after a walk full of bickering. Ranpo and Sakuno were sick and tired of Chuuya and Osamu’s shenanigans already.

“Why are we even comin’ here? This murder is from months ago, the scene’s been cleared of evidence.” Chuuya complained, looking around the area. They were in an abandoned shipyard, a place Osamu and Sakuno both found incredibly familiar.

“Maybe they missed something, hm?” Ranpo said, sitting on an oil drum. “Well, chop chop! Get to it!”

Chuuya grumbled to himself, before walking off to take a look around. Osamu stayed where he was, checking his phone. “I really don’t think this should be too difficult to figure out. I mean, it’s literally got the Port Mafia written all over it.” He said, huffing.

“Just because you already know the answer, doesn’t mean everyone else is going to immediately figure it out.” Sakuno said, lighting a cigarette. Osamu stuck his hand out for one expectantly, grinning when Sakuno only sighed, handing him the pack and lighter.

“Well, yeah, but still. I didn’t realise the Sheep were as incompetent as this. Is it within our paycheck to destroy their organisation while we’re recruiting Chuuya?” Osamu asked, lighting his own cigarette.

“That is not only above your paygrade, but also completely against the rules.” Sakuno said. Osamu whined, “Oh, come on! They literally suck!”

“You just have a grudge against that.. grey kid.”

Osamu glared at Sakuno, “I do not! I just.. don’t appreciate him and his behaviour. Plus, Chuuya deserves way better.”

“And you’re better?”

“Yes.”

Sakuno laughed, “You sound a little jealous, Dazai.”

Osamu glared harder, if that was even possible. “Wh- I am not jealous! What would I even be jealous of? I just need him dead for personal reasons. My personal reasons being his existence offends me.”

Before Sakuno could retort, Chuuya came back. “This place has been wiped clean.” He said, looking annoyed. Osamu nodded, “Yeah, makes sense.”

Chuuya shrugged, “I mean, it’s not like we need evidence. This is obviously Port Mafia doin’, right?”

Osamu tilted his head, “What makes you say that?”

Chuuya gave him a look. “From the file and the bloodstains where the body was found, it looks like torture. Not to mention the injuries listed seemed like Port Mafia techniques. I’d.. assume this murder was committed by the torturer of the Port Mafia, not that I know who that is.”

Osamu was genuinely taken aback. He thanked his lucky stars for the fact he’d kept the fact he was the lead torturer quiet. “Ah… Very smart. I’m impressed.”

Chuuya nodded, but he seemed a bit pissed off. “D’you know who the head torturer is?”

Osamu internally tried to think of an excuse. There was no logical way someone as high ranking as he was could feign ignorance, but that would not only give away the fact that he knew who the killer was already, but the fact he was the killer and sent Chuuya on a wild goose chase.

Osamu sighed, “I do.. If you figure it out, I’ll still honour my end of the deal. Consider it a newbie privilege.”

That seemed to calm Chuuya a little, who looked a tad more happy now. “That works for me. I’m gonna go make some calls, some of the kids in the Sheep might know.”

Osamu quickly ran towards Chuuya, knocking his phone out of his hand. Chuuya darted backwards, “What the hell? What’d you do that for!?” He yelled.

Osamu straightened, dusting himself off. “Ah.. That’s cheating. You can’t get outside help.”

Chuuya grimaced, “You can’t make up rules on the spot! God, you’re such an ass!”

“I can, and I will! If you just called someone up who knew, that’d defeat the point! You really have no brain cells if you can’t realise that!” He argued back, crossing his arms. Chuuya’s anger continued to grow.

Sakuno’s eyes widened a little, and he stepped backwards. Osamu looked at him confused, before going pale.

A split second later, Chuuya kicked him square in the jaw. Osamu got knocked to the floor, but very quickly dived towards Chuuya’s legs. He wasn’t exactly very heavy or strong, but he combatted that by chomping into Chuuya’s calf.

Chuuya shrieked, falling down himself. “You- You fucking bit me!”

Sakuno and Ranpo were dying with laughter at this point, cheering Chuuya on. Osamu didn’t feel very loved.

“You kicked me in the face! My beautiful, beautiful face!” Osamu whined, tightening his grip on Chuuya’s ankle. Chuuya kicked up, hitting Osamu straight in the chest. He coughed, letting go of Chuuya who immediately sprang up.

“There ain’t nothing beautiful about your face. Not that I can see half of the thing.” Chuuya said, adjusting his stance. He had managed to keep his hands in his pockets the entire time. It was rather impressive.

Osamu scowled at him, getting up slowly. “Did you really have to kick me so hard?” He muttered, rubbing his chest. “Yeah… Why are you bleedin’?”

Osamu blinked, checking his eye bandage. It was covered in blood.

“Ah. Oops. Don’t kick my face next time.” Osamu said, rather nonchalantly. He didn’t register the fact that Chuuya looked genuinely concerned for a second.

“.. Whatever. Can you two stop laughin’ and help me solve this damn case?” Chuuya said, turning to Ranpo and Sakuno. Ranpo paid no notice, but Sakuno very quickly cleared his throat, “Oh, yeah. We’ve got some files on the Port Mafia. Figure out which one sounds more torturer-esque or something.” He said, before walking off back in the direction of the Armed Detective Agency.

“... You’re tellin' me we came here for nothing?” Chuuya said, dumbfounded. Osamu nodded happily. “Yep! I sent you on a little wild goose chase. I’m evil, aren’t I?” He grinned, before grabbing Ranpo and following Sakuno. Chuuya joined them a second later.

None of them seemed to notice the two sets of eyes staring at them from afar. They didn’t need to just yet.

-

Chuuya groaned above his mass of files, head face down on the desk. Osamu had half a mind to record his little tantrum.

It was around 9PM, now. Chuuya had procrastinated getting on with the job for a few hours due to Osamu’s task of bothering him every 5 seconds. Now, it was just the two of them. Fukuzawa was still in his office, of course, but Sakuno and Ranpo had gone home, and it wasn’t like Fukuzawa was magically going to check on them.

“Ugh.. This is fuckin’ hopeless. Half of these have blanked out information.” Chuuya complained, hitting the desk with his head. Osamu hummed, nodding, “Well, yeah. You’re looking at the high ranking guys.”

“Where’s your file, anyway? Did those fuckers not give it to me?” Chuuya asked, flipping through a few files. Osamu bit his lip, “Ah, I actually took it from you a bit ago.”

Chuuya stared at him, “You’re kiddin’ me. Why the fuck would you do that?” He asked. Osamu just shrugged, before moving to steal Ranpo’s snacks. “I don’t want some ugly ginger getting his grimy hands all over my file. Plus, there’s private stuff in there!”

In actuality, Osamu had taken the file because he wasn’t sure which one it was. There were three files currently owned by the Armed Detective Agency. His Agency personnel file, his Port Mafia information file, and his Port Mafia personnel file, written by Mori himself. Sakuno had given Chuuya the files, and grabbed the first one he found labelled ‘Osamu Dazai’.

When Osamu had slipped away to the bathroom to check which file it was, he was unpleasantly surprised to see his Port Mafia personnel file. He’d made a mental note to yell at Sakuno for that when he got home.

Now, the file sat happily in his desk, covered by anything he could bury it with. It wasn’t exactly the best idea to let Chuuya read through his entire tragic backstory.

“Nobody gives a shit about your private stuff. It’s not like you’re hidin’ some really awful shit that I don’t know about. You’re Port Mafia, it’s a given.” Chuuya sighed, his face returning to the desk. Osamu simply made a noise of acknowledgement, before grabbing a bag of chocolate from Ranpo’s desk.

“Do you have any ideas, then?” He asked, changing the subject. Chuuya nodded, “Yeah. I’ve ruled out a few people. Ryurou Hirotsu, Ougai Mori, Kouyou Ozaki, a group named ‘The Flags’, and some other fucks I don’t give a shit about.”

“So you haven’t ruled me out? I’m hurt, Chuuya!” Osamu complained, feigning offence. “I can’t rule your shitty self out until I read your damn file, Dazai.” Chuuya answered, not sounding very enthusiastic.

He then lifted his head, eyeing Osamu. “..If it was you, I’d kill you. Making me go on a wild goose chase for a guy right in front of me.”

Osamu laughed, before biting into a chocolate.

Chuuya was about to continue, but he then paled a little. “... We ditched the Sheep.”

“What?”

“We ditched the Sheep. I’ve been gone a whole fucking day- We need to go, we need to get back-” Chuuya started, his expression and tone full of panic. Osamu quickly headed over to him, placing his hands on his shoulders.

It was weird, really. Whenever Chuuya’s ability was nullified, it filled Osamu with warmth. It was a nice feeling, but very different from when he nullified anyone else. It made being physically close to Chuuya weirdly addicting. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that, though.

Chuuya seemed to calm down a little, but the sheer terror was still clear in his eyes.

“They’re gonna think I abandoned them.” He whispered, sounding like he didn’t even want to say the words.

“Why is that such an issue, Chuuya? Why are you so determined to not leave them? Answer me honestly.” Osamu said, his voice calm. He wasn’t good at comforting people, but he was going to try his best.

“.. I mean, I told you. I’m loyal to them because they saved me.”

“But what are they actually going to do to you if you seem like you’re going to leave?”

Chuuya didn’t answer that immediately. He looked nervous, and the panic-stricken expression was all Osamu needed to know it wouldn’t be good.

“I.. don’t know. I don’t know what they’d do. But there’s no way they’d be nice about it.” Chuuya muttered. Osamu sighed, rubbing Chuuya’s shoulder a little. “You need to calm down. I’m not gonna let them hurt you.”

Chuuya looked away, his expression grim. “The worst part is, I don’t.. even know if I want to go back. I mean, I can’t just abandon them, but…” He trailed off, gritting his teeth. Osamu sighed.

“I know the feeling. Not that I want to relate to you, being I find you repulsive, but.. I didn’t exactly join the Agency through my own free will.”

Osamu didn’t want to dive into what happened to him, not ever. However, he had now realised he had no hope of securing Chuuya’s introduction into the Armed Detective Agency without it.

Chuuya looked at him, curiosity now taking over his expression. “What do you mean?”

Osamu sighed, “Well, Fukuzawa was an old friend of my fathers. My father is in the Port Mafia, and introduced me into it when I was young. I was mistreated there, or something, and Fukuzawa decided to take it upon himself to take me from that environment. I fought against it like hell.” He explained, looking a bit uncomfortable. Seeing Chuuya’s expression changing, however, pushed him along.

“Then, something happened when I finally went back. Me, Ranpo, Sakuno and Fukuzawa all got brought to the Port Mafia and had to face my father. He.. did a shitty thing in front of them, and I don’t want to begin to understand why, and.. I don’t want to go back anymore.”

He paused, taking a breath. “I don’t want to see something similar happen to you, just because you feel like you owe it to them to go back. Even if it’s just to explain why you’re leaving.”

Chuuya looked taken aback. His eyes were full of concern, and it felt like they were staring into Osamu’s very soul. “Damn.. I didn’t realise you had it so shit.” He finally said. Osamu laughed, “Yeah, well, it’s how things are.”

Chuuya nodded, “I.. think you’re right, though.” He said, looking almost as uncomfortable as Osamu. “I’ll join the Agency. I said it before, if this place is enough to convince you, I’ll give it a go. At least for a while.”

Osamu smiled at him, before dragging him up and going to Fukuzawa’s office.

“We’re done here! Home time!” He yelled, waking up Fukuzawa who had fallen asleep on his desk.

Osamu didn’t want to tell Chuuya the entire truth. He was careful in how he worded that entire thing, purposefully leaving out the fact he was conflicted on his next actions. Chuuya wouldn’t have joined if he explained every tiny detail.

He sighed, sitting down next to Chuuya in the back of Fukuzawa’s car.

“Oh, there’s one more thing I forgot to mention.” Osamu said, pretending he just remembered something.

“Hm?” Chuuya turned to him.

“I was the lead torturer of the Port Mafia.”

“You WHAT?!”

Chapter Text

Chuuya and Osamu bickered the entire ride home, arguing over Osamu’s bet and various other things. It wasn’t malicious, really. Chuuya was just incredibly easy to rile up, and that amused Osamu to no end.

After they got home, the group had dinner and hung out in the living room for a few hours, discussing nothing in particular. It was an incredibly calm night, all things considered. Chuuya seemed happy, too. He had a genuine smile on his face, which was something Osamu hadn’t seen from him so far. It was nice.

It didn’t last forever, though. Eventually, Osamu retreated to his room, sliding under his bed like usual. He couldn’t even go on his phone to pass the time, which filled him with too much regret.

He wasn’t sure how he was feeling right now, nor did he want to decipher it. All he wanted right now was to melt into the ground, and disappear from the world. He was always far too melancholy at night.

He sighed, adjusting himself to lay on his back and stare up at the boards holding up his mattress. Where had the contents of his phone gone, anyway? He had taken a peek at the table during the time with everyone else, and he couldn’t find them. He had prayed that nobody had decided to look through his belongings.

But right now, he couldn’t find the strength to care. He still had the gnawing feeling in his gut of wanting to go home, despite knowing better now. Would it ever go away? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to feel like this anymore. He just wanted everything to stop.

Osamu felt like he was betraying everyone for feeling like this. After all the efforts to fix him, and to save his life, he still couldn’t see the value in living. He couldn’t see the value in staying away from the Port Mafia other than to keep everyone happy.

Why did he care if they were happy? He wouldn’t have used to. He was growing soft, and the thought utterly disgusted him. He sighed, crawling out from under his bed and moving to sit at his desk. He was almost restless.

What time even was it? The moon was shining brightly through his bedroom window, yet he could still hear the hushed voices of Fukuzawa and Sakuno through the walls. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the thought of them discussing things without him present filled him with a sense of fear.

Osamu tapped his fingers against the desk, desperate for any distraction from his own thoughts. He couldn’t even go and bother Chuuya or Ranpo, being that the two would definitely have gone to sleep by now. It was strange, really, how different the two of them were to him.

It made him doubt his humanity even more. If two people around the same age as him were so painfully human, why wasn’t he? What was he doing wrong? Was his existence some sick, divine punishment for something? Not that Osamu believed in any kind of God. The world was too horrific for such a thing.

Osamu bit his lip, chewing at it until he could taste blood in his mouth. He didn’t want to be here right now. He didn’t know where he wanted to go by any means, but he didn’t want to be stuck in his bedroom when he couldn’t even think about sleeping.

He stood, walking over to his window. It was locked, of course, but Osamu was always good at picking locks. It was quite lucky Fukuzawa lived in a rather cheap apartment.

He fiddled with the lock for a few seconds until he heard the satisfying click of it unlocking, sliding it open as carefully as he could. Maybe he could pickpocket someone’s phone.

Maybe he could call Mori.

No, that wasn’t something he wanted. He needed to stop having thoughts like that.

After landing on the ground rather clumsily, Osamu checked his pockets. He had his razor, and Sakuno’s cigarettes and lighter. It wasn’t exactly a great amount of items, but he supposed he was only going on a midnight walk.

He walked aimlessly for what felt like ages, finding himself in a park. It was completely desolate, and incredibly dark. He could barely see where he was going, and it filled him with both dread and a sick feeling of anticipation. He really was fucked in the head.

He sat down on a park bench, staring up at the sky. The stars and moon were beautiful, much too beautiful for someone like him to be gazing upon.

He lay like that for a while, until he heard the crunch of someone stepping on leaves from behind him. He shot up, turning around to face the intruder.

“... Sakuno?”

“You’re not very slick.” Sakuno said, sitting down on the bench and gesturing for Osamu to sit down next to him.

“God, can you stop appearing when I want to be alone? It’s annoying.” Osamu complained, sighing out of annoyance. Sakuno laughed, “I know better than to let a 14 year old wander around at night.”

Osamu grumbled, crossing his arms. A small part of him was kind of glad he wasn’t alone.

“How did you know I was here?” He asked, turning to Sakuno. “After Fukuzawa went to bed, I thought I’d check on you. I saw your window was open, and assumed you wouldn’t have gotten far.”

Osamu hummed, nodding. “Makes sense. Curse Fukuzawa for making your ability more powerful.”

Sakuno nodded, agreeing. “It was a bit weird to get used to. But forget that, why did you sneak out?” He asked. Osamu shrugged, “I just didn’t want to be stuck at home. I didn't have a curfew in the Mafia, you know.”

“I assumed. Still, it’s dangerous for you to be out here alone.”

Osamu rolled his eyes, considering punching Sakuno in the face for a split second. To imply that the Demon Prodigy couldn’t handle himself was all kinds of rude. “I’m fine. Just because I have a history doesn’t mean I’m stupid!”

Sakuno sighed, “If you don’t want to go home, I could take you somewhere.” He said casually. Osamu looked at him curiously, “Hm? What do you mean?”

“There’s a bar I found a bit ago. It’s open at times like this, I thought you’d like it more than staying at home. I’ll pay.” He explained. Osamu considered it for a second, before nodding.

They began walking not long after, Osamu following Sakuno closely. “You know, you shouldn’t be taking a 14 year old to a bar.”

“You’ve murdered hundreds of people.”

“Well, yeah, but still!”

Sakuno laughed to himself, before casually getting into Fukuzawa’s car. Osamu followed suit, getting into the passenger seat. “Does he know you took this?” Osamu asked. Sakuno shook his head, “He doesn’t know either of us have snuck out. I don’t plan on telling him, do you?”

Osamu thought for a second, “Hmm, I suppose not.”

It didn’t take long for the two to arrive at the bar, Osamu following Sakuno quietly. It was rather small, but had a lovely atmosphere. The bartender nodded at Sakuno and Osamu, before disappearing into the back.

“This is quite a nice place. What made you want to come here, though?” Osamu asked, sitting down. Sakuno sat down on his right.

“I can’t say I’m having the best night either. Being here is relaxing.” Sakuno answered simply, taking a glass of whiskey from the bartender who had reappeared holding the bottle. He wordlessly poured Osamu a glass, too.

“Oh? What happened?”

Sakuno took a sip of his whiskey, sighing. “What happened with you?”

“I asked first, stupid.” Osamu eyed his glass warily.

“I asked second. You should respect your elders.”

Osamu groaned, resting his head on his hand. “Fine, fine. I was just thinking about the past, that’s all.”

It wasn’t completely a lie, he had been thinking about the past. Just other things, too.

Sakuno nodded thoughtfully, “That reminds me. Are these yours?”

He took something out of his pocket, sliding it towards Osamu.

It was the contents of his phone case. Osamu took a sharp breath, “Ah.. Yeah, they’re mine. You didn’t look at them, did you?”

Sakuno shook his head, “Nah, I know when to respect someone's privacy. I don’t think you’re above slitting my throat.”

Osamu laughed, “No, I’m not.”

Sakuno smiled softly, sipping his whiskey quietly. They sat in silence for a little, simply enjoying the atmosphere of the bar.
This was nice, Osamu thought. He didn’t expect this night to go the way it did, nor did he expect Sakuno to become so friendly. The Armed Detective Agency must really be getting to him, kind of like how it was getting to Osamu.

Except in Sakuno’s case, it was a positive thing. Osamu wasn’t too sure about himself.

He sighed, finally taking a sip of his own whiskey. It stung his throat, but he pretended to be unphased.

“I know we’re not anything close to being friends, but you can talk to me if you want to. I imagine it’d be easier than talking to Fukuzawa.” Sakuno offered.

Osamu tapped his fingers against his glass, thinking. “Hmm.. I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll talk to you, if you start letting me call you Odasaku.”

Sakuno grimaced, looking at Osamu with a slightly annoyed expression. “... You’re kidding.”

“Nope! Come on, it’s a no brainer!” Osamu pleaded, putting on his most convincing voice.

“Fine. You can call me Odasaku, but you better not bullshit me.” Sakuno, no, Odasaku said. Osamu grinned. “Yay! Now everyone will know we’re the best of friends~!”

Odasaku didn’t seem all that pleased with the faux-affection, but conceded. “Yeah, yeah. Now, go on, tell me what’s bothering you.”

Osamu nodded, swishing the ice around his glass. “I’ve just been thinking about what to do next. I mean, I can’t logically stay at the Agency forever. As much as I like you idiots, I…” He trailed off, not sure how to word this.

“It’s not like Mori’s going to stop trying. Then he’s just going to hurt everyone.” Osamu muttered. Odasaku looked at him with concern in his eyes. “Mori’s a shitty person. I don’t know.. details on what he’s done to you, but from what I saw…” He trailed off, now looking mildly disgusted.

Osamu laughed nervously, “Hah, yeah. It’s not great. Or, at least that’s what Fukuzawa and Ranpo say. I’m not sure how I feel about it, in all honesty.”

“What do you mean?” Odasaku asked.

Osamu shrugged, “I mean, I don’t know how I feel about him. Logically, I should hate him, right? Fukuzawa told me what he was doing to me was bad, but… A part of me just doesn’t want to believe it. It feels like I deserved it.”

Odasaku nodded, waiting for Osamu to continue. It was strangely easy to talk to him in this calm bar. He was going to say too much, and he didn’t seem to mind it right now.

“Mori told me he was doing it out of love. It felt like love. They keep saying it wasn’t but I just… can’t change how it felt. I still love him, even though everyone keeps saying I shouldn’t. Hell, even Ranpo told me it was crazy.”

Odasaku nodded, “I don’t think it’s crazy that you feel like that.”

Osamu tilted his head, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re an abuse victim, that’s obvious, but… the abuse you faced is painfully complicated. I was talking to Fukuzawa about it earlier, after I found your stuff. I didn’t really mean to intrude, but he explained to me the bare minimum he could.” Odasaku began, pausing to take a sip of his whiskey, “It sounds like you have Stockholm syndrome, or something.”

Osamu pulled a face, looking unimpressed. “No way. I’d know if I had some stupid bitch disorder like that. I’m not stupid enough to. No offence to victims of it, of course, but… I mean, me and Mori are equals. It’s not like I was actively trying to stop him. Plus, he didn't abuse me, he's just a dick sometimes.”

Odasaku looked almost pitying, sighing into his glass. “He’s 23 years older than you, kid. You’re not equals, and he sure as hell abused you.”

Osamu whined, thumping his head down against the bar. “You don’t know that, Odasaku. You weren’t there.”

“I was there when he kissed you. You know full well what he meant by that.” Odasaku said calmly. It was like he was purposefully keeping himself sounding unbiased, despite the fact his words were full of the implication that he thought he was right.

“Ugh.. Do we have to talk about this now?” Osamu complained, sitting up to down the rest of his whiskey. He grimaced, not appreciating the flavour all that much.

“Not if you don’t want to. But I’d like for you to consider what I’ve said.” Odasaku said, before gesturing to the bartender to get them new glasses.

They changed the subject after that, talking about nothing in particular for an hour or two. It was nice, but the thought of Odasaku thinking he had something like Stockholm syndrome when it came to Mori made him feel odd. He wasn’t weak enough to fall for something like that. He wasn’t stupid enough to only think he loved Mori due to a condition.

He knew full well Mori loved him in a sick and twisted way, that was a given. It was easily noticeable by the way he looked at Osamu. It was obvious that Osamu would love him back. Mori was his father, wasn't he? It wasn't like he had been manipulated into loving the man who had protected him for the last 3 years.

Clearly, he still didn’t really believe Odasaku. But the thought bugged him even as they got back into Fukuzawa’s car, driving home in a calm silence.

When he got home, after bidding Odasaku goodnight, he snuck into Fukuzawa’s bedroom and stole his phone. Then, he went into his bedroom as quietly as he could, sneaking back under the bed.

He immediately went on Google, searching the criteria for Stockholm syndrome. He hadn't wanted to admit to Odasaku’s face that he didn’t even know the diagnostic criteria before denying he had the thing.

[ People who have Stockholm syndrome have: Positive feelings toward the captors or abusers. Sympathy for their captor or abusers’ beliefs and behaviours. Negative feelings toward police or other authority figures. ]

Osamu stared at the page for a few minutes. That didn’t apply to him, did it?

[ Positive feelings toward abusers. ]

Well, Mori didn’t count as an abuser. Sure, he did unspeakable things to Osamu, but those things were out of love. That meant it didn’t count as abuse even if he didn’t like it. Plus, the 'positive feelings' Osamu had for Mori were very complicated. None of this counted.

[ Sympathy for abusers’ beliefs and behaviours. ]

That one didn’t apply either. There was no way. If Mori had actually done something bad, he’d hate it, but Mori did everything for a good reason. Sure, Osamu didn’t really know what the reason was, but he was sure it existed. Thus, he didn’t have sympathy for behaviours. And that wasn’t contradictory at all.

[ Negative feelings toward other authority figures. ]

Like Fukuzawa? Well, he didn’t have negative feelings anymore. Kind of. Well, he sort of did. He still felt himself disliking the man for taking him away from Mori.

There was absolutely no way Odasaku was right about this. Who did the guy think he was, anyway? Taking Osamu to some dumb bar and telling him to his face that he was abused. Sure, everyone else said it too, and he had even implied it when talking to Chuuya, but that didn’t mean it was something he believed. This entire thing was stupid. He knew better than everyone else.

Plus, Mori was a doctor. He would know if Osamu had that kind of thing.

Osamu barely realised he was typing in his number until he got to the last digit. He felt his heart sink.

“Uh.. That didn’t happen.” Osamu muttered to himself, quickly deleting the number from the keypad. He was in a strange mood today, probably not helped by the glasses of whiskey he had. It was Odasaku’s fault for putting weird thoughts in his head. He was going to complain endlessly to Chuuya tomorrow, and maybe convince the kid to punch Odasaku into the stratosphere.

He sighed, turning off Fukuzawa’s phone and getting more comfortable under his bed. He felt incredibly tired, now. He assured himself he’d think about it properly tomorrow, when his head was clearer.

For now, Osamu slowly drifted off, forgetting to slip Fukuzawa’s phone back into his room or clear the search history.

It’s not like this would come back to haunt him.

Chapter Text

Osamu woke up with a headache. A headache, and an incredibly dry mouth. He groaned, suddenly regretting falling asleep underneath his bed.

He stretched as much as he could given the circumstances, before crawling out from under his bed slowly. His entire body ached, and he made a mental note to never try that again. Why did he even fall asleep under there, anyway? Osamu couldn’t clearly remember the last few things he did last night.

Not that he cared, anyway.

Osamu brushed himself down, heading into the living room. Ranpo and Odasaku were already up, of course, and Osamu was amused to see Chuuya fast asleep on the ceiling.

“... Was that intentional?” Asked Osamu, pointing at the ginger. Odasaku shook his head, “He started floating in his sleep, and I couldn’t exactly… stop him.” He explained. Osamu laughed at that, sitting down next to Odasaku.

It was nice being on friendlier terms with the man, Osamu thought. As much as he had previously held quite the grudge against Odasaku, he had decided last night that he was much better company. Maybe his personality wasn’t as abhorrent as Osamu once thought.

“So, is anyone wanting breakfast? I’d usually have sorted it out by now, but given it’s a weekend…” Ranpo asked, a small grin on his face.

Osamu blinked at him in confusion. It was a weekend? He supposed it made sense, but he had really forgotten to keep track of what day it was ever since he got here.

“Could you get me a glass of water? With ice, preferably.” Osamu said, returning Ranpo’s smile. He couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not at this point, and he supposed it didn’t really matter.

Ranpo nodded, heading into the kitchen. Osamu sat down on the sofa next to Odasaku, tapping his fingers together out of boredom. It was a pain not having a phone. Odasaku looked at him, a seemingly understanding expression on his face.

“Why don’t we go into town later and get you a new phone?” He asked, ruffling Osamu’s hair. Osamu batted his hand away, but nodded. “That’d be nice. Who’s buying, though? I don’t exactly have access to money.”

Odasaku hummed, “I’m sure Fukuzawa will buy it for you. Just don’t go crazy.”

Osamu grinned, already preparing to pick out the most expensive phone he could find and beg for Fukuzawa to buy it for him.

Eventually, Ranpo came out holding a tray, with four plates of food and a glass of ice water for Osamu. He placed them all down on the coffee table, before turning his attention to Chuuya on the ceiling.

“Osamu, could you get him down while I get Fukuzawa? Thanks!” Ranpo said, not waiting for a response as he practically skipped out the room. Osamu groaned inwardly, but stood up on the chair.

It took a singular brush from his finger to send Chuuya hurtling down to the floor with a very loud thump.

“Agh- What the fuck?!” Yelled Chuuya, quickly scrambling around to look at Osamu with a venomous expression on his face. Osamu just smiled at him sweetly, sitting back down. “Good morning, Chuuya!”

Chuuya just grumbled at him, turning his attention to the food on the table. He perked up a little, grabbing a plate and sitting on the floor as he ate it. Odasaku sighed, grabbing his own plate. “That was a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“Oh come on, you can’t say things are harsh, Odasaku.” Osamu muttered, crossing his arms. Odasaku nodded, “I suppose not.”

Eventually, Ranpo and Fukuzawa entered the room, but their expressions seemed a little confused. “Have any of you seen my phone?” Fukuzawa asked.

Osamu paused. That… rang a bell.

Ranpo stared directly at him, “I think Osamu’s seen it. I’ll go check his room.”

That was probably not a good thing, Osamu thought. He definitely remembered borrowing his phone now, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember why he did. The only thing he knew for certain is that it was definitely not going to go well for him.

Odasaku looked a little concerned too, now that Osamu thought about it. His expression had worsened, and he was just silently eating a slice of toast. He evidently noticed Osamu looking at him, though, because he shot him a worried look that screamed, ‘Please tell me you didn’t do something stupid.’

Osamu had a very bad feeling he did indeed do something stupid.

Ranpo came back with Fukuzawa’s phone fairly quickly, looking both pleased with himself and incredibly concerned. He silently handed it to Fukuzawa, the light of the screen illuminating the man’s face as he looked at the contents of the screen.

Chuuya looked between the two a little confused, before turning to Odasaku and Osamu to see if they knew what was going on. Osamu was pretty glad of his ignorance.

Now that he thought about it… He knew exactly what they were looking at.

The air of the room became filled with tension. Osamu quickly took a sip of his water

The urge to beat Odasaku over the head with a pillow was incredibly strong, but Osamu resigned himself to sitting there quietly, pretending he knew nothing.

Fukuzawa cleared his throat, “Well, at least we found it. Osamu, next time you want to borrow my phone, just ask, okay?” He said calmly, and Osamu tried to ignore the rather grim look on his face.

“Yeah, sorry.” He muttered. Odasaku looked at him questioningly. Osamu ignored it completely.

“Now that’s dealt with, me and Osamu are going to go buy him a phone today. Anyone else wanting to join us?” Odasaku said, breaking the room's tension by changing the subject. “Oh, if we’re going shopping, we should all go, shouldn’t we?” Said Ranpo, evidently planning on draining everyone’s bank accounts with his sweet addiction. It was a miracle how he wasn’t incredibly nutrient deficient.

“Eh, why not. I don’t have anything else to do today.” Chuuya said, leaning back. Ranpo nodded, sitting down next to Osamu and grabbing his plate. Fukuzawa sat down too, grabbing his own. “As long as you don’t spend all my money…” He said, exasperated. Osamu grinned at him, “I’d never dream of it!”

He was, in fact, dreaming of it.

Everyone continued eating their food, Ranpo turning on the TV halfway through to watch the news. Nothing noteworthy was said, but Osamu noted that mafia-related criminal activity was apparently skyrocketing.

It was almost amusing. Almost as if Mori was throwing a kind of tantrum. He wasn’t, but vouching for Osamu’s attention like this was.. interesting.

Soon, everyone had finished their food, and Osamu had drunk half of his ice water. He got up, placing the glass down and heading towards the bathroom.

He really had to pay more attention to his hygiene, he knew that very well, but showering and brushing his teeth and all of that was always a difficult task. Nonetheless, he locked the door, turning the shower on and undressed.

He tried to ignore what happened the last time he was here. There was no use dwelling on that element of the past.

Osamu finished his shower quickly, brushing his teeth as he went. He wrapped himself in a towel and rushed into his bedroom, wrapping himself in his bandages and dressing in his usual outfit. He was glad Ranpo decided to buy copies.

Although… Something felt a little off today. Osamu looked down at his body, noting the rather feminine appearance he currently had. He never really worried about such things in the Port Mafia, always sporting clothing that managed to cover his body. Plus, nobody in the Port Mafia would have ever dared point anything out.

Why hadn’t he ever paid attention to this before? Osamu didn’t know for certain, but he threw on a hoodie despite that fact and headed back into the living room.

Now Chuuya was in the shower, and everyone else seemed newly dressed. Osamu wondered just how long he spent questioning himself in his bedroom, but it didn’t really matter.

He sat in the living room with everyone for a while until Chuuya came out, having borrowed some of Ranpo’s clothes. They were a little big on him, but he didn’t seem too bothered.

“So, should we get goin’?” Asked Chuuya. Fukuzawa nodded, standing up. “Yes, let’s go.”

-

The car ride was a little cramped, with Ranpo, Chuuya and Osamu all squished together in the back and Odasaku in the front passenger seat. Luckily, the journey wasn’t very long, and Osamu was on the hunt for the nearest phone shop.

It didn’t take long to find, and he quickly dragged everyone into it.

Osamu rushed around the store, looking at the various phones he could see. Eventually, he came across a nice looking phone, calling Fukuzawa over.

“I want this one!” He grinned, blinking up at the man expectantly. Fukuzawa sighed, nodding. He walked up to the counter, the group in tow, and was immediately greeted by the worker.

“Hello, could I purchase that phone from the display?” He asked calmly, pointing towards said display. The worker nodded, “Of course! I’ll get that for you right away, sir.” She said, walking into the back and returning with a box.

“Is this for your daughter?” She asked, evidently making small talk as she rang Fukuzawa up. The room chilled a little, nervous looks passing between most people in the group.

“Ah… He’s my employee.” Fukuzawa said, keeping his voice level. Osamu’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He’d never really gone into public like this before, and had never talked to such chatty workers. Most knew who he was, due to his connection to the Port Mafia, and wouldn’t dare to utter a word in his direction unless it was to say the price of whatever he was paying for.

The lady looked a little horrified, but quickly nodded, “A-ah, my apologies. Uhm, that’ll be 111,285 yen.” She stuttered out. Fukuzawa grimaced at the price, but quickly put his card into the machine and paid.

“Thank you for shopping with us, enjoy the phone…” The lady mumbled, looking down at the floor as they departed from the shop.

“... I think she needs her eyes checked.” Chuuya said to Osamu, noticing his withdrawn state. Osamu just shrugged, “It’s.. nothing. I’m fine.”

An awkward silence overcame the group as they stood in the middle of town, until Ranpo cleared his throat. “Well, I’m gonna go look for stuff with Fukuzawa. You three, uh, go have fun?” He said, grabbing Fukuzawa’s arm and dragging him away into the distance.

Osamu glanced down at the small bag containing his phone, quickly finding a way to change the subject. “Let’s go set this up, then! I’ve been so lost without a phone…” He said with a faux-cheerful tone. Odasaku nodded, “Yeah, let’s go find somewhere to sit.”

The three ventured off, eventually finding a less crowded area in town to sit down and set up Osamu’s new phone. It didn’t take long, and Odasaku had Osamu’s SIM card on him for some reason. When Osamu questioned him, he just said, “I thought it’d be important.”

Now, the awkward silence returned with a vengeance once more. Chuuya tried his best to break it once again, “You’re not really letting that girl get to you, right?” He asked. Osamu shot him a dirty look, “It’s literally nothing. Who cares if some girl thought I was a girl?” He muttered. Odasaku looked at him with a pitying expression, “I think you care, kid.”

Osamu grimaced, crossing his arms. “I don’t see why you two even care. I mean.. I haven’t exactly made an effort to look..” He trailed off, looking at the ground.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to be upset.” Odasaku said shortly. Chuuya agreed quickly, “Yeah! One time, I got confused for a girl ‘cause of my appearance and it messed with me for weeks. All ‘cause I had my hair a little longer than usual.”

Osamu just grumbled a little, trying not to continue the conversation. Unluckily, Odasaku had other plans. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we go around and buy you some more clothes, and I’ll look online to see if I can find anything to help with the other stuff.” He offered. Osamu groaned, leaning back. “If it’ll get you off my ass, fine.”

-

The clothing shop took hours. Osamu, Odasaku and Chuuya made it back to the centre of town carrying 4 shopping bags each, Osamu struggling more than the two others. Chuuya had a red glow to him, floating 3 of his 4 bags above him. Osamu had the urge to tap him and watch it all come tumbling down on top of him. It’d be rather amusing.

“Well, that just cost me all my money.” Odasaku complained, dropping down onto a bench and dropping his bags. Osamu just smiled, “Hey, it was you who offered! Plus, I don’t have access to my bank anymore and ‘mon petit détective’ hasn’t been paid yet.”

“Mini Dete- What the fuck?!” Chuuya yelled, batting Osamu on the head. The bags above him came crashing down upon him and he tumbled to the ground. He groaned, picking himself back up slowly. “That is the last time I forget about your fuckin’ ability.” He complained. Osamu just giggled.

Soon, the three saw Fukuzawa and Ranpo heading towards them. But there was something odd… They were being followed by two children. One around the age of 10, and one looking no older than 5.

What the fuck?

-

Ranpo spent the entire day in town draining Fukuzawa’s bank account for all it was worth, trying out all new desserts, sweets and snacks he could find in Yokohama. Fukuzawa looked utterly exhausted, carrying far too many bags of confectionery for a singular normal human to ever want.

It was a good day, really. Maybe the phone shop had been a little mood-killing, but hey! Osamu seemed to take it in stride.

Well, no he didn’t. But Ranpo decided he’d tackle that problem later. He’d been that kid once, and he knew bothering Osamu about it immediately after wasn’t going to be the best decision.

Lost in thought, Ranpo didn’t really notice the two children staring at him. At least not until the younger of the two tugged on his jacket.

“You work at the Armed Detective Agency?” Asked the child. Ranpo blinked at them for a moment. Five years old, from an orphanage, seeking out…

Oh.

That was going to be interesting. Very, very interesting.

Chapter Text

Osamu looked at the two strangers curiously. The younger child had two-toned hair, one half black and one half white, with very interesting eyes. The older one had grey hair with a black streak, that was very unfortunately cut. It looked like the kid had taken a pair of craft scissors to his hair in the dark. Osamu turned to Chuuya, who had quickly stood up and brushed himself off, and Odasaku to see if either of the two recognised them. However, they too shared the same confused expression that Osamu wore.

“Uh.. Fukuzawa, who are these people?” Asked Osamu, apprehension clear in his voice. He couldn’t say he was a guy who was particularly fond of children. Fukuzawa shook his head, “No, but they said they’re looking for you.” He said. Osamu’s interest was piqued by this, and he turned his attention to the older of the two kids.

“Looking for me, huh? Well, I must say I’m curious as to why. Who are you two?” He asked, forcing his voice to sound friendly. The older kid shifted a little, looking nervous.

“Ah.. My name is Atsushi. Atsushi Nakajima, and this is Kyusaku, but you can just call them Q. We’re from an orphanage outside of Yokohama, but… Well, it wasn’t a good place, so I did some digging to see if one of us had any living relatives. I don’t, but uh…” Atsushi paused, shuffling a little, “Q’s file says they're your sibling.”

Osamu was utterly flabbergasted by this, but he tried not to let it show. “My sibling, huh? I never knew I had one of those.” He said. Q hid behind Atsushi nervously, and Atsushi laughed a little, “I think they’re only your half sibling.. I’m not accusing one of your parents of being unfaithful! I just… uhm..” He trailed off, knowing he was definitely implying that.

Osamu laughed, “Well, they didn’t seem too fond of eachother. It makes sense, I suppose. But, uh, why are you seeking me out? I can’t exactly… help you.”

Atsushi looked to the ground, “We were.. just hoping to get somewhere to stay. It’s okay if you can’t help us, though.” He said solemnly. Osamu sighed, thinking. He turned to Fukuzawa, “Well, it’s up to you.”

Fukuzawa nodded, “Well.. I’ve found a set of apartments near the Armed Detective Agency. I think I can move you into there, and I’ll move the kids into my house. As much as I want to, I doubt I can take care of all six of you at once.”

Osamu grinned, looking back at the two kids. “Well then, that’s settled. Before we go, though, why don’t we all get some food?” Osamu paused, “And it’ll be my treat!”

Atsushi and Q seemed to beam at that, quickly nodding. Odasaku looked at Osamu questioningly, “You.. don’t have any money, Osamu.”

Osamu simply blinked at him. Odasaku grimaced, “.. I am not paying.” Osamu blinked at him some more, trying his best to look pleading.

“That isn’t going to work.”

Osamu sighed, grabbing his phone, “Well, guess I’ll go get access to my bank account again,” he said as he quickly clicked on Mori’s contact. Fukuzawa stiffened, quickly grabbing Osamu’s phone out of his hands. “It’s fine, I’ll pay.” He said through gritted teeth. Osamu smirked.

“That was a dirty trick.” Ranpo muttered as the group began walking to the nearest McDonalds. Osamu just laughed, “It worked, didn’t it?”

Maybe using Mori as a threat wasn’t exactly the most ethical decision, but it was their fault for thinking he’d actually go through with it. Did they really not think he was better than that?

Well, he wasn’t actually better than that. But calling Mori right this second would do more harm than good, especially while he was still in the midst of planning what to do next. Speaking of which, it was nearly time to…

“So, what do you want?” Asked Chuuya, and Osamu realised they were currently standing in the Mcdonalds. Osamu thought for a second, “Hmm.. 6 nuggets, a diet coke, and medium fries.”

Chuuya made a face, “Really? Someone else is paying, and you’re gettin’ that little? Why d’you eat like a hamster, man…” He said, hitting Osamu’s shoulder. Osamu just shrugged, “I guess I’m just not hungry that often.”

He really needed to stop lying. It was a dirty habit.

Nonetheless, Osamu stuck to his order and soon the group were eating their various meals. Or multiple meals, in the case of Atsushi and Q. It was concerning, and Osamu wondered when they last ate. Maybe he should’ve recommended something more nutritious.

“So.. How did you two actually get here?” Osamu asked, leaning over a little to look at Atsushi. The boy paused, putting down his burger. “Well, we just kinda… walked in the general direction? It wasn’t difficult leaving the orphanage… I mean, they kinda wanted me and Q gone anyway..” He muttered the last part, staring down into nothing for a few seconds. Osamu’s curiosity was instantly piqued, and his gaze narrowed.

It wasn’t difficult to read Atsushi’s emotions, yet he was definitely hiding something, intentionally or not. Q was, too. The fact that the child hadn’t said much was telling of that fact.

“Why would they want you two gone?” Osamu asked innocently. Atsushi continued staring at the ground, “I.. I’ll tell you later…”

Osamu hummed, leaning back in his seat. He’d quiz the two kids later, but for now he had other things to attend to.

He surveyed the table, watching people have their own conversations. Fukuzawa was talking to Odasaku, Ranpo and Chuuya were having an avid conversation, and of course, Q and Atsushi were talking amongst themselves.

“I’ll be right back, I gotta use the bathroom.” Osamu said cheerfully, picking up his phone and excusing himself. He watched the table from afar for a few seconds, making sure nobody was following him, before slipping out the entrance.

It was time to prove himself. It was time to make sure nobody got hurt by his plans.

He typed in a number he really wished he didn’t remember.

“Osamu? You know you shouldn’t be contacting the Port Mafia.” A girl’s voice crackled through the speaker, her connection clearly spotty.

“I know we’re not on good terms, but if you cooperate with me, this can go well for both of us.” He muttered, the disdain clear in his tone. She obviously picked up on it, too, as her response was filled with the same disdain.

“Well for both of us? I didn’t think my wellbeing mattered to you all that much.” She practically hissed through the speaker. Osamu grimaced, but continued.

“I can get you out of there. We both know Mori forgot you exist.”

“I see you haven’t gotten over yourself in the time you’ve been gone.”

“Oh my god, get over yourself, Akiko. I’m offering you a lifeline.”

Akiko paused, before sighing. “This better work, prick. What do you need me to do?”

Osamu smiled, before launching into a detailed explanation of what he needed her to do.

“Are you sure this’ll work?” Akiko said, after her note-taking subsided. “I’m certain. When have my plans ever failed?”

“More often than you like to admit. You just pretend they were part of your plan and make something up on the spot.”

Osamu whined, “Fine, fine. Ugh, I forgot how much I despise you. Well, I better be off. Have fun~!” He sang, before quickly hanging up. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and carried on walking.

It would take around 5 minutes for Akiko to convince Kouyou to get his money. 10 for Hirotsu, willing to do her bidding, to arrive. 15 minutes in total. After, he’d figure it out from there. The issue of the moment would be stalling, and hoping that his extended time in the ‘bathroom’ wouldn’t cause people’s suspicions to arise.

He made his way across town, slipping into a shady alleyway. He quickly texted Akiko the location, and she responded with a thumbs up.

Osamu waited, downloading a few games on his phone and messing with them for a few minutes.

Then, finally, Hirotsu showed up. “Sorry I’m late. It was… difficult getting out unnoticed.” He said, handing Osamu a very heavy briefcase.

“How much is this?” Osamu asked, testing the weight of the briefcase. It was difficult to hold, which was a great sign.

“356,599,200 yen. It’s the most I managed to get in. It’s most of your savings, if I recall correctly. It was Kouyou who accessed your account.” Hirotsu explained, and Osamu nodded. “Hm, good. Let’s hope nobody traces it.”

Hirotsu nodded, looking a little on edge. Osamu noted it, slipping it into his mind for later.

“Well, I better get going. Thanks for your help, Hirotsu. Give Kouyou and Akiko my regards.” Osamu grinned, before walking off back in the direction of the McDonalds. Hirotsu nodded, disappearing into the alleyway.

When Osamu got to the McDonalds, his little group of supervisors were waiting for him with worried expressions. He sighed, rolling his eyes at them. “Where the fuck were you?!” Chuuya yelled, running up to him. “What the fuck is that?”

Osamu laughed, “Oh, it’s just something I needed to go get. Sorry for lying to you~” He chirped, “Well then, I was promised a new apartment! Fukuzawa, onwards!” He said, pointing towards the horizon. Fukuzawa laughed nervously, “You’re lucky I bought it a few days ago. It… should be in order. I’ll drop you, Chuuya and Sakunosuke off there and return with your things in an hour or so. Now, how are we going to get all of us in the car…”

Ranpo sighed, “Just make Q sit on Osamu’s lap, and have Atsushi lie on top of the rest of us. It’ll be unlikely we’ll get pulled over.”

Fukuzawa nodded, “It’s… not the greatest plan, but okay. Let’s go.”

-

Ranpo was right about the unlikelihood of getting pulled over, but the car ride was incredibly uncomfortable. Q was alright, but Atsushi lay rigid the entire time, until they hit a speedbump and his hand went flying into Chuuya’s face. Chuuya, being a complete idiot, accidentally activated his ability at the shock and went flying into the roof of the car, because he was the type of person who didn’t feel the need to wear his seatbelt.

After being nullified and reprimanded for such behaviour, though, the car ride went a lot smoother. Then, Chuuya, Osamu and Odasaku all got dropped off at the new set of apartments, with their keys in their hands and their bags of items neatly set beside them.

“Again, I’ll be back in an hour or so. We’ll also pick you up tomorrow, for breakfast and such.” Fukuzawa had explained, before driving off.

“So, Odasaku’s our only supervision now? Wow, imagine what we could get up to, Chuuya!” Osamu said, slinging an arm around Chuuya, who quickly batted him away. “You fuckin’ weirdo. I’m gonna choose the apartment as far away from yours as possible.”

“Nuh uh! I’ll just keep moving next to you as much as I can. Odasaku won’t stop me, right?” He turned to Odasaku, a childish grin on his face. Odasaku rolled his eyes, “I don’t care what you do, just don’t be annoying.”

Osamu nodded, grabbing his bags and quickly heading up the stairs, picking an apartment directly in the middle. With this, nobody could get too far away from him. He could easily keep an ear out for activity.

Chuuya and Odasaku inevitably picked the apartments next to his. Evidently, they both had the same plan. Osamu scoffed at the idea that he needed supervision like this. When had he ever proved to be an untrustworthy person?

A little voice in Osamu’s head quickly provided him with a number of reasons he was untrustworthy, but he didn’t pay attention to it. Instead, he slid his briefcase underneath his wardrobe, not bothering to unpack his new clothes.

He lay on the floor, stretching out on the futon provided. It was quite nicely furnished here, he thought. Of course, he’d definitely crash at Fukuzawa’s place whenever necessary, but he’d think about that later.

Soon, Fukuzawa showed up with everyone’s things, and Odasaku gave them to everyone before retreating back into his apartment. The time ticked by, and Osamu aimlessly stared at his ceiling for a while.

Before he knew it, it was fairly late into the night. He looked around, questioning how long he had been thinking aimlessly. He didn’t get long to dwell on that, though, because there was a knock at his door.

Osamu hesitated a moment. He could hear Odasaku’s soft snoring through the thin walls, and Chuuya didn’t seem the type to knock. The boy also hadn’t shouted questioningly through the walls, so he seemed to be asleep too.

Osamu’s heart sank a little. It… couldn’t be, right?

Unfortunately, Osamu seemed to have the worst luck in the world.

He opened the door, staring up at the figure who had a very fake amicable smile on his face.

“Osamu, dear. May I come in?” Mori asked, his tone sickly-sweet. It was equally as threatening as if he came rushing into the room with a machine gun.

“... Of course.” Osamu gestured for him to come in, and Mori very quickly made himself at home, sitting down on Osamu’s futon.

It seems Osamu’s plan had to be put on hold for a moment. He silently cursed himself for not remembering this very real possibility.

“Did you truly think you could contact Kouyou and have her access your account without it notifying me? I thought you were smarter than this, Osamu.” Mori said, his tone now almost disappointed. Osamu sighed, sitting down in front of him. “You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t contact you directly, and you promised-”

“I don’t care about my promise to Yukichi, and if you do tell him, it’ll incriminate you just as much as me. I could very easily tell them you contacted me directly.” Mori smiled again, but this time it had much more of an edge.

“... Fine. Why are you here?” Osamu asked, trying to ignore the way his voice trembled. He hadn’t been alone with Mori in god knows how long. He almost forgot how small he felt in his father’s presence.

“Can’t I just miss you, dear? It’s been so long since we’ve had time alone together.”

Osamu wanted to throw himself out the window, or scream and awaken Odasaku, but he found himself completely unable to do anything but sit there. “I guess it has been a while. That.. was the plan though, right?” He asked. Mori hummed, “It was neither of our plans, so it doesn’t particularly matter to me. Plus, I know you missed me. I can see it in your eyes.”

Osamu felt strange. Half of him was screaming at him to run, and half of him was glad of the opportunity to speak to Mori again. It was like he was waging a war against himself.

Still… One night couldn’t hurt, right? He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss Mori. Even if it was the fault of whatever Odasaku said he had.

“I.. did.”

Mori’s smile grew wider, and he pulled Osamu into a hug. He leaned in a bit closer, whispering into Osamu’s ear.

“You won’t have to miss me forever, dear. You’ll be back in my arms in no time at all. Your willpower is fading, I know it.”

Osamu just melted into the touch, too tired of fighting. Mori was being nice this time, too, so it didn’t really count as bad.

He was slipping back into old habits at the mere presence of his father. How pathetic.

He didn’t want to think about that right now. Shut up.

Osamu let out a shaky breath, before nodding. “Don’t leave.. Please.” He whispered. Mori nodded, “I wasn’t planning on it, my dear.”

Osamu tried to ignore the implications of this. He bit his lip, closing his eyes. None of this counted. None of this was real. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t getting hurt. This was fine, this was normal, this was-

This was going to be the death of him.

He felt Mori’s hand on his cheek. “Words can’t describe how much I missed you, Osamu.”

He knew he was going to regret this in the morning.

But that was a problem for later. For now, he just focused on how good it felt to feel loved again. To have the only thing that was a constant in his life taking care of him, even if it was to indulge the man’s fucked-up desires. He hated himself for allowing this, and hated himself even more for wanting it.

“Don’t cry, dear.” Mori said softly, wiping away tears on Osamu’s face that he didn’t even know were falling. “You’re so weak, it’s adorable.”

Osamu didn’t even have the strength to retort anymore, nor to stop Mori’s hands from trailing from his face down to his waist. He felt like he was going to throw up, but it was still vastly overshadowed by the desperation he felt to know someone in this world actually cared for him.

He didn’t know anything anymore, did he? Maybe it’d be nice to let himself be controlled by someone who did.

He didn’t really feel like he was in his own body anymore. He couldn’t for the life of him even react to what was happening, despite his body clinging to Mori like a lifeline.

His mind was clinging to Mori like a lifeline, too. He knew it.

Instead of thinking about this anymore, though, Osamu just let himself disappear. He couldn’t bring himself to care about this anymore, not when Mori was right there, allowing Osamu to indulge in his own horrid desire to be around someone he knew deep down was dragging him down into the depths of hell.

As Osamu thought before, though..

This would be a problem for later.

Chapter Text

Osamu woke up slowly, blinking a bit in the dim morning light streaming through his window. He was completely unclothed, and the events of the night before trickled into his mind like a poison.

Shit.

He sat up slowly, eyes widening as he saw Mori making something in the small kitchenette. “Oh, you’re awake. It’s around 5:45 AM, dear.”

“Wh.. What happened? Why are you.. still here?” Osamu asked, still groggy. He rubbed his eyes a little, pulling his blanket closer to his body. His cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment.

What.. was wrong with him? Why did he allow that? Why was Mori still here? Why-

His thoughts were cut off by Mori pressing a warm mug into his hands. “I’ll have to be off, your little friends will be waking up soon.” He said, stroking Osamu’s face before straightening. “Do drink the tea, it’ll help clear your mind. See you soon, dear!”

With that, Mori went straight out the door, leaving Osamu in a state of absolute distress. He wanted to claw his skin off. He wanted to rip his brain out of his head. He wanted to-

He heard movement from Odasaku’s room. Movement like one of a man who had been standing there for quite a while. Osamu slid under his blanket, carefully placing the warm mug of tea next to his futon. He didn’t really feel thirsty.

There was a knock at his door, now, softer than when Mori knocked. Osamu made a noise of acknowledgement, and Odasaku entered the room slowly.

“... Please tell me I didn’t hear what I think I heard.” Odasaku muttered, sitting down next to Osamu. Osamu just slithered more underneath his blanket, letting out a weak noise.

“I’m sorry.”

Odasaku’s expression worsened, and he sighed. “It.. It isn’t your fault, kid. Can I.. check your phone?” He asked. Osamu nodded, turning over as Odasaku checked it.

“Yeah, no Mori in your call history. He broke the agreement on his own.” Odasaku said, placing the phone back down. “You think I’d call him?” Osamu asked weakly.

“No, I just needed to make sure so when I go tell Fukuzawa I don’t look stupid.”

Osamu sat up, looking horrified. “No! You- You can’t tell anyone, he’ll-”

“He’ll realise we need to deal with this now.” Odasaku wasn’t leaving room for disagreement. Osamu now realised he had left this far too long. It didn’t matter how he felt about things anymore, because it was affecting everyone. Mori made it abundantly clear he wasn’t against breaking his promises, and his self control was dwindling. It wouldn’t take long before he tried something more drastic.

Maybe Osamu should’ve just gone back to the Port Mafia. It would’ve been a whole lot easier than the mess he had found himself in.

But he knew that was a lie. His newfound friendships, the safety of the Armed Detective Agency, and not being so obviously used was… comfortable. He hadn’t had the guts to break that up for a reason, and he wasn’t going to give up on not hurting others so soon.

As if Odasaku was reading his mind, he sighed. “I know you’ll prefer it here. Even if your mind keeps telling you that you won’t, you’ll prefer being on the side that protects people.” Odasaku paused, “Even if there won’t be much difference to you, won’t it make life a little more beautiful?”

Osamu looked down at his blanket, trying to weigh the pros and cons. He didn’t really have much of a choice about accepting the Agency’s help, but was he truly willing to give up on the Port Mafia? Even without Mori there, it was home to him.

But the Agency was his home now, too. Here, he had Odasaku, and Chuuya, and Ranpo and Fukuzawa. Hell, he even had an actual family member here now. Kyusaku seemed pretty fond of him already, and he hadn’t even had a chance to dig into Atsushi’s psyche yet. The pros of staying at the Agency seemed to outweigh the cons. Yet…

He still didn’t think he could abandon the Port Mafia.

“I don’t think I know what I want, Odasaku.” He finally said, ignoring how broken his voice sounded. He was like a scared child at this moment, and Osamu hated the thought that told him it was because he was a scared child.

“That’s okay. I won’t force a decision on you right now.” Odasaku ruffled his hair, and Osamu let a soft smile flicker onto his otherwise dismal expression. “Do you really think it’ll make life more beautiful? I’ve never… Life has never had any beauty to me.”

Odasaku nodded, “I thought the same when I was younger. Hell, I was still somewhat thinking the same when you got me into this place. But spending time with Fukuzawa and the others, and doing the things I actually enjoy… It’s made it easier to withstand life. I can’t tell you it’ll always be good, and I can’t say it’ll even work for you, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

Osamu made a noise of agreement, and the room shifted into a comfortable silence for a minute or two until Osamu cleared his throat. “Ah, do you mind leaving so I can.. get dressed?” He asked, holding back a laugh. Odasaku’s eyes widened a little, and he quickly nodded. “Ah, yeah. I forgot, sorry. I’ll check up on you in a bit.”

With that, Odasaku quickly got up, dusted himself off and swiftly left the room. Osamu laughed to himself, but soon the overwhelming feeling of emptiness took over his body and mind once more. He stood, picking up the tea Mori had made him and placing it down in the sink. He couldn’t trust that it didn’t have some sort of drug in it, and either way, he really wasn’t thirsty.

He then went digging in his bags of new clothes, and pulled out a grey t-shirt with a rock band’s logo on the front, and black ripped jeans. They were recommendations from Chuuya, saying ‘These are what I’d wear, you’ll blend in perfectly.’

Osamu redid his bandages quietly, with his eyes closed. He wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of gazing at his scars unless he was in a weird mood. Now was not one of those times. Then, he put on the clothes he picked out.

Being from the men’s section, it sat oddly on Osamu’s figure, but he decided he’d just cover it up with something. He then slid on a belt, tightening it as far as possible. It was still a little loose, but that was a problem for… not him.

He then dug through his things for a jacket of some kind, but came up empty. He resigned himself to stealing one of Chuuya’s, and making up for it later by stealing one off of Odasaku when he actually had work in the morning. That seemed fair enough to Osamu, so he sat back down on his futon and began messing around on his phone once more.

Soon enough, Odasaku knocked at the door again, and when Osamu didn’t bother to answer, he walked in cautiously. “Ah, you’re ready. Fukuzawa said he’ll be arriving in around 15 minutes.” He said, sitting down next to a much happier looking Osamu.

It was a wonder what Odasaku’s presence could do for his mental state. For a guy he once hated, Odasaku’s existence was now incredibly calming. Osamu quickly moved a bit closer to him, always being quite physically affectionate with people he liked, and peered up at him.

“15 minutes? Hmm.. What should we do in that time?” Osamu asked curiously. Odasaku thought for a second, “What do you want to do?”

Osamu grinned, “You should tell me a funny story.”

Odasaku paused for another few moments, seemingly trying to think of a good one. Eventually, he landed on it.

“Hmm, I suppose I have one good one. It’s about my brother, actually.” Odasaku said, his voice slipping into something akin to reminiscing. Osamu listened enthusiastically, very interested in anything to do with Odasaku’s past.

“Once, I noticed he had been gone longer than usual one night. I was obviously worried, but I tried my best to keep myself distracted. I was still fearing the worst, though. But then, when he finally showed up, he had this stupid grin on his face and was literally beet red.”

Osamu held back a laugh, “Was he with a girl?” He asked. Odasaku shook his head, “Nah, I do think he was with a boy, though. I’d never seen him look so stupidly happy. He was trying to hide it, too. I never figured out who he was with. I mean, I had an idea of someone it could’ve been, but I really do hope it wasn’t him.”

Osamu pulled on Odasaku’s arm a little, “You have to tell me who you thought it was! I know a lot of people in Yokohama, y’know.” Odasaku just chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah. I don’t think you’d know him.”

Osamu sighed, defeated. “That story was so short.. Got any more?”

Odasaku sighed, too, “No, not any that are anything near that positive. Unless you want to hear about me getting shot at while trying to deliver a package. Being a postman is a lot more work than it’s worth.”

Osamu smiled at him, “Come on, you know I’d love a story like that.”

“It can wait for another day, then. I forgot to wake Chuuya up.”

Osamu cackled, before quickly trying to hush himself. “Ahem- wow, what a shame. It would sure suck to watch him scramble to get dressed with Fukuzawa outside, waiting.”

“What’s with you and Chuuya, actually? You seem way more annoying to him than anyone else.” Odasaku asked. Osamu just shrugged, “Guess he rubs me the wrong way. There’s something about him that makes me want to annoy the hell out of him.”

Odasaku looked at him with an amused expression on his face for a few seconds, before nodding. “I suppose that makes sense. Anyway, I’ll go wake him up.” He then stood up, walking to the door. “Grab me a jacket while you’re there!” Osamu chirped as he left.

-

Chuuya was, predictably, incredibly unhappy about being awoken 5 minutes before he had to leave. Listening to him scramble around, swearing and shouting, was almost as amusing as watching him would have been. Lamentably, Osamu hadn’t the right to enjoy such an entertaining show just yet.

Nevertheless, Osamu kept up his cheerful demeanour all the way to the car, enjoying the short ride to Fukuzawa’s house by staring out the window at the scenery. He had no love for it, but it was better to try to find beauty than not look at all.

He really wished Odasaku’s words hadn’t stuck with him as much as they had. Maybe he was just in enough of a fragile state of mind to consider such advice.

Eventually, the car arrived at Fukuzawa’s place and the group poured into the living room, immediately greeted by Ranpo, Q and Atsushi. Q and Atsushi waved nervously from the sofa, while Ranpo quickly ran up to them.

“I’m glad you made it here okay!” He grinned, before his eyes fell onto Osamu. He paused, eyes boring into Osamu’s soul, and his gaze hardened a little. Odasaku evidently noticed this, because he shot Ranpo a warning look. Osamu sighed, pushing past Ranpo and sitting on the sofa next to Atsushi. “So, what are we watching?” He asked, turning his attention to the cartoons on the TV. “We’re watching Scooby Doo! Ranpo had a ton of DVDs!” Q answered enthusiastically. Osamu smiled at them, “Ah, I see! I do love a good mystery. As long as Ranpo doesn’t ruin it, though…” He said, his voice turning a little grim at the end. Ranpo made an offended noise, quickly heading over with Chuuya. Chuuya sat on the floor like usual, and Ranpo took Fukuzawa’s chair. “It’s not my fault they’re so predictable!” Ranpo complained.

Osamu made a noise of acknowledgement, quickly looking to see what Odasaku and Fukuzawa were doing. He watched them head into Fukuzawa’s room, Odasaku giving Osamu a concerned look before disappearing.

Osamu didn’t think he’d tell him so soon.

He held his tongue, however, and quickly plastered on his usual happy face as he talked to the rest of the group. He didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying, simply agreeing to whatever Ranpo said about the cartoon, and it didn’t take long for Ranpo or Chuuya to notice something was off. In the presence of the two kids, though, they both said nothing about it.

Eventually, after what felt like hours but was probably around 15 minutes in actuality, Odasaku and Fukuzawa re-emerged from Fukuzawa’s room, both with incredibly serious looks on their faces.

“Atsushi, Q, I need to talk to Osamu for a moment. Do you mind if I borrow him?” He asked, a soft smile on his face. The two nodded, but looked a little confused. Chuuya did, too, but he still didn’t say anything about it. Osamu huffed, getting up and walking to Fukuzawa’s room.

He sat on the bed, an air of nervousness to him. Obviously, he knew it was a big deal that Mori went to his apartment, and did rather.. unsavoury things to him, but having a whole conversation about it felt like a bit of an overreaction.

Fukuzawa came into the room not too long after Osamu did, followed by Odasaku. Osamu was glad he was there, at the very least. He didn’t particularly enjoy being cornered in a room with a singular adult, even if it was Fukuzawa.

“Sakunosuke told me what he knows. Osamu, are you okay?” Fukuzawa asked, sitting down next to Osamu, fairly close but enough of a distance away that Osamu wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Osamu sighed, “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Nothing even happened, you don’t need to worry!”

He didn’t even know why he was lying. Was he subconsciously defending Mori? Still, after all this time? He didn’t want to think about it. Hell, he didn’t want to think about last night. He wanted to go back to his apartment. Or the Port Mafia. Anything but this.

“Osamu, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But please don’t lie to me.” Fukuzawa’s voice was gentle, yet Osamu found himself growing more and more agitated by the second. “Why do you immediately think I’m lying?”

“Because Sakunosuke told me he went to your room after Mori left, and you weren’t wearing anything.” Fukuzawa said plainly.

“Oh.” Osamu simply looked down, not wanting to meet anyone’s eye. He felt almost embarrassed, for letting it happen to him again. Embarrassed that he had so easily let Mori in, let him do what he wanted, and didn’t even try to stop him. Embarrassed that he fell into old habits without even blinking.

“Please don’t blame yourself.” Fukuzawa said, as if he read Osamu’s thoughts from his expression alone. Osamu didn’t really know what to say.

“I’m not.” He settled for lying, despite Fukuzawa’s previous request. Fukuzawa didn’t mention it this time, though, and looked at him with a pitying expression instead.

Odasaku stepped forward now, “I told Fukuzawa that we need to do something. I get you don’t want to, Osamu, but-” He hesitated, trying to think of the best way to put his next sentence, “I can’t let this happen to you again. If he so easily got into your apartment, and wasn’t even scared by the fact me and Chuuya were just next door, I just.. I can’t risk it.”

“You’re right.” Osamu muttered, his voice monotone, apart from a slight brokenness. Odasaku looked a little surprised at his immediate acceptance, or as surprised as Odasaku could look. “You.. agree with me?”

“I do. I can’t risk him hurting any of you, and I know he will if we don’t do something.”

The words hurt. The admittance of Mori planning something against his friends hurt him more than Mori’s actions towards him did. But he knew that it was the truth. Odasaku nodded, and so did Fukuzawa. “You understand what the solution to this is, right?”

“... I do.” Osamu hated it. He hated it, he hated it, he hated it. Why couldn’t he be dead? Why couldn’t this have not gone as far as it did? Why did Fukuzawa need to save him? Why hadn’t he given up? Why, why, why?!

“You’re going to have to kill him, aren’t you?” His voice was small. Child-like.

“Usually the Armed Detective Agency wouldn’t go to such lengths, but.. What he’s done is unforgivable. I’m sorry, Osamu.” Fukuzawa shared his sadness for a moment. Osamu knew he had quite the history with Mori from the photo he saw, so it must’ve been hard for Fukuzawa to come to this conclusion, too.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m fine. Can I go now?” Osamu asked, taking a breath and looking up from the floor. He looked at Fukuzawa pleadingly, but the man didn’t look like he was going to accept the request.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Osamu didn’t answer. Fukuzawa’s expression worsened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Odasaku nodded, “You can go, just… Talk to me later if you think you can.”

Osamu nodded quickly, pushing himself up off the bed and heading out of the bedroom as fast as he could. He sat down on the sofa, offering Chuuya and Ranpo a weak smile before turning his attention back to the TV. He could barely register anything going on anymore, but he didn’t think he particularly cared anymore.

They were going to kill his father. They were actually going to murder Mori.

He knew he wasn’t expected to be happy with that, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling that way. He knew it was the only course of action, a classic case of ‘kill or be killed’, but he still wanted to kick and scream his way through it.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything but stare forward, replaying the conversation over and over in his mind until he started losing what they actually said. He wished he hadn’t said he was fine with it. He wished he had fought against it more, in some hope that he could change their minds and go back to his own plan. In retrospect, his plan was unashamedly terrible, but it was better than…

No, it wasn’t. He was making excuses again.

He considered calling Mori for a moment or two, but what would he even say? Would he warn the man about what the Armed Detective Agency was planning?

That was a stupid idea. He’d send out as many executives as possible to quell an assassination attempt from Fukuzawa. Osamu felt that fact in his bones.

“Yo, Dazai? You okay there?” Chuuya asked, poking his shoulder a bit. It was now he realised the TV had been turned off, Q and Atsushi were in a different room with Ranpo, and he was alone with Chuuya. He didn’t want to know how long he had been staring at a blank TV screen.

“Oh, I feel fine. Splendid, perhaps. Why do you ask, Mini Detective?” Osamu asked, a fake smile plastered onto his features and an upbeat tone to his voice. Chuuya didn’t buy it for a second, sitting next to Osamu with concern. “Shit, what happened?”

He was getting really tired of explaining himself now. He groaned, leaning back. “Nothing worth telling. I just had a bad night, that’s all.”

Chuuya nodded, but evidently didn’t believe him. “If you say so.” He muttered, going on his phone.

Osamu couldn’t help but feel a bit worse, now. He considered just walking out, and seeing where his legs took him, but he felt far too exhausted to bother. He just wanted to disappear.

Eventually, Odasaku walked into the house, holding a shopping bag. Osamu didn’t even realise the man had left, but he smiled warmly at him nonetheless. Odasaku nodded in return, before passing Osamu a sandwich he bought.

“I got you some food. You don’t seem to eat a lot.” He said, as blunt as ever. Osamu took it, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought, and quickly opened the packaging. He didn’t eat it immediately, watching as Odasaku set down a drink and packet of crisps he bought for Osamu, before handing Chuuya a similar meal. Chuuya looked a lot happier than Osamu at the gesture.

He didn’t really understand it. Food was a necessity to live, and so Osamu never considered it very important to him. Why did Chuuya seem so pleased?

But Osamu didn’t think about it for too long, instead taking occasional small bites of his food while he went through whatever social media app he found himself on. He still wasn’t in his right mind, but it was better than what he was doing before.

He resigned himself to listening to Chuuya and Odasaku’s conversation, mild curiosity pushing him along.

“So, Chuuya, it’s your first real day working for us tomorrow, right?” Odasaku asked, digging into his own meal. Chuuya nodded, “Can’t say I’m excited, but whatever. As long as I get paid.”

“I can’t say the pay is amazing, but it’s better than nothing. I can’t imagine you got paid in the Sheep.”

“Nah, we mostly just stole shit. Gotta say, I’m pretty glad I’m doin’ something better with my life now.” Chuuya said, his usual attitude on full display. Odasaku wasn’t deterred by it, though.

“I did always tell you that you had more potential.” Odasaku offered. Chuuya made a noise of annoyance, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, and I told you to fuck off. Maybe you should still consider that.”

Odasaku didn’t respond after that, instead opening a book and choosing to ignore Chuuya. Chuuya didn’t seem too offended by it, evidently used to the nonchalant attitude already. However, it didn’t take long for Chuuya to start a new conversation.

“D’you know what happened to Dazai?” Chuuya asked, rather ignorantly. Odasaku stiffened a little, “Isn’t it a bit rude to talk about him like he isn’t here?”

“Well, he isn’t paying attention. Plus, I asked and he didn’t tell me.”

Osamu cleared his throat, “Maybe that’s because I told you it was nothing?”

Chuuya blinked a little, before pressing on. “You can’t expect me to believe that, you ass! Pushin’ me away every time I ask what’s wrong isn’t going to make me go away.”
Osamu just hummed, going back to his phone. He had now downloaded and started playing some shitty mobile game about a cat. It was weirdly addicting.

“Whatever.” Chuuya huffed, crossing his arms. It was a miracle how he hadn’t given up yet. He seemed to lack the patience that the rest of them held, but he had the stubbornness to replace it.

Odasaku returned to his book, undeterred by Chuuya’s ever-increasing disturbances. Osamu sighed, turning his phone off and heading towards the door. “I’m going on a walk.” He muttered, not waiting for a response before he left.

He expected Chuuya to join him shortly after, and he wasn’t surprised when Chuuya did not even five minutes later. “Where are you going?” Chuuya asked, matching Osamu’s pace almost effortlessly.

Osamu shrugged, “I don’t know. The river, maybe.” He answered, his voice dull. Chuuya didn’t seem too happy with that, “Your suicidal ass? Goin’ to a river? I’m taggin’ along.”

Osamu just sighed, quickening his pace a little. The silence remained between the two until they reached the river in question, Osamu sliding down and sitting on the banks. He considered jumping in and letting himself drown, but it seemed like too much effort right now.

“So… Why did you go here?” Chuuya asked. Osamu thought for a second, “I guess I just wanted to get out of there.”

Chuuya nodded, almost understandingly. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t know what happened, man, but it.. couldn’t have been good.” Osamu laughed bitterly at that, but tried to keep his voice calm, without such bitterness. “It wasn’t. I’m surprised you and Odasaku slept through everything.”

He paused, before adding. “Almost everything.”

Chuuya looked at him a little confused, and Osamu quickly backtracked. “I mean, it wasn’t that important- Seriously, don’t worry.”

“Of course I’m going to worry! Shit, who do you think I am?! I may not like you, but the shit you’ve gone through is horrific! If anything bad happened to you with me right there, I-” Chuuya cut himself off, looking down at the dust-covered ground. “I just.. I don’t know.”

Osamu sighed, looking at Chuuya with a hint of pity. “Please don’t. I don’t want to become a bother to you, too.” He muttered. Chuuya huffed, “You’re not a bother. I mean, you’re a pain in the ass at the best of times, but… I still care about you, man.”

Osamu smiled a little, “Are you saying I’m your friend?” He asked, his voice a tad happier now. Chuuya scoffed, but eventually nodded. “Guess so. Don’t let it get to your head, asshole.”

Osamu grinned fully at that, leaning on Chuuya’s shoulder. He was genuinely surprised when the other boy didn’t shove him off. “Well, that’s certainly good to know.”

Chuuya smiled softly, pushing against Osamu a bit. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

They sat like that for a while, enjoying the cool breeze and each other's company despite the less than adequate scenery. Eventually, Osamu felt a calm sleepiness start enveloping him, and he yawned a little bit. “You tired?” Chuuya asked, his voice softer than usual. Osamu shook his head, “No, I’m fine..” He muttered, even as his eyes drooped shut.

“God, you’re an idiot. Hey, c’mere.” Chuuya shifted a little, placing Osamu’s head on his thigh. “Just get some rest, I’ll carry your ass back home if I need to.”

Osamu whined a little, but sleep was overtaking him faster than he’d like to admit.

“Thank you, Chuuya..” Osamu whispered, just before letting himself fall asleep.

He didn’t stay awake long enough to hear Chuuya’s response, but he knew it wasn’t anything that would change how strangely safe he felt when he was with Chuuya.

He’d deny the entire thing the moment he woke up, of course, but for now he just enjoyed the comfort of being with Chuuya. It was as if his body knew what he couldn’t, like it knew Chuuya would end up meaning more to Osamu than he himself had ever expected.

Chuuya was not as ignorant as Osamu, however. The red tinge to his face was enough to prove that. Unfortunately, though, Osamu had fallen asleep before he had the chance to notice. An opportunity to ruthlessly bully Chuuya, so easily wasted.

It didn’t matter, though. What Osamu didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Chapter Text

Osamu woke up slowly, to the dull sensation of being carried somewhere. He blinked a little, his unbandaged eye focusing on Chuuya after a few seconds. The boy looked rather disgruntled, not pleased about having to carry Osamu back to Fukuzawa’s place, but he was doing it nonetheless.

Osamu held back a grin, and made the decision to continue pretending to sleep rather quickly. He wasn’t too eager to get back on his feet, and he was oh-so comfortable in Chuuya’s arms.

Unfortunately for Osamu, Chuuya wasn’t as oblivious as he had hoped. A quick glance down, and Chuuya had unceremoniously dropped him on the concrete. “Finally. I was getting tired of carryin’ you.” He complained, begrudgingly helping Osamu up when the other spent a few seconds too long sat on the ground.

“That’s no way to treat your superior!” Osamu huffed, crossing his arms as the two continued their journey towards Fukuzawa’s place. “Superior my ass.” Chuuya mumbled, making sure to walk a few steps ahead of Osamu.

They continued the journey in a rather awkward silence, both not quite sure of themselves, but neither were about to address it. They quickly made it back, Chuuya entering the house quietly, not holding the door open for Osamu. Osamu pushed through the closing door, shooting Chuuya an annoyed look before sitting down on the sofa. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself, now.

He looked around, only seeing Chuuya sitting on the ground like he usually does, on his phone and completely ignorant to his surroundings. Holding back the urge to kick him in the stomach, Osamu instead turned his attention to the kitchen.

Listening closely, he could make out the faint sounds of a conversation between Fukuzawa, Odasaku and Ranpo, but he couldn’t hear anything of importance. He didn’t exactly have superhuman hearing, and their hushed tone was definitely implying they didn’t want to be heard. Osamu turned back to Chuuya, trying to see if he had noticed that too, but he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. Osamu wondered why he didn’t feel threatened by Osamu’s presence, given his reputation and all that, but he supposed that was due to Chuuya’s inflated ego.

Not that Chuuya had an inflated ego, but Osamu would rather say that then admit that his actual, fourteen year old self wasn’t exactly the most threatening presence. His name in the Port Mafia may have preceded him, but his look was just that of a rather unhealthy looking teenager.

Interrupting Osamu’s thoughts, Fukuzawa, Odasaku and Ranpo walked back into the room. Q and Atsushi headed into the room themselves, peering at everyone with curiosity. Osamu wondered how they had kept themselves entertained for so long. Fukuzawa smiled softly at seeing the two boys now back, sitting down in his chair. “Osamu, Chuuya, I see you’re back. You were gone for around an hour, are you two okay?” He asked, his tone as soft as it usually is when addressing Osamu. Chuuya answered before Osamu had the chance, “We’re fine. He wanted to go on a walk, and he’s not exactly the most.. forthcoming with what he wants to do.” Chuuya said, lightly emulating the way Fukuzawa spoke. Osamu held back a laugh at his sudden formality, choosing to stare at the floor with a soft smile on his face.

“Ah, I see. As long as you two didn’t get into any trouble, I suppose it’s okay.” Fukuzawa nodded, before reaching over to grab the TV remote and flip on some channel Osamu didn’t care enough about to check what it was. Odasaku sat next to him, staring at him for a few seconds, almost reading into him. It was oddly akin to Ranpo’s stare, but lacking as much freakish intelligence.

Odasaku said nothing, however, only looking at Chuuya for another few seconds before watching the TV, as well.

Ranpo headed to his room, blabbing about some research he needed to do alone. Osamu had the annoying feeling that today was going to be unbelievably, unfathomably boring.
Unfortunately for Osamu, he was right. Atsushi and Q babbled something about playing outside and ran off, Chuuya and Fukuzawa talked about whatever for a while, and Odasaku read his book. At some point he finished it, only to flip back to the first page and read it again, adding in new annotations. Osamu didn’t understand how the man wasn’t incredibly bored by the book at this point, and he very quickly decided to interrupt the man’s ceaseless annotation to ask about it.

“Hey, Odasaku. Why do you keep reading the same book?” He asked, sliding closer to the man to peer at the pages. They were more full of annotations than actual writing, it appeared. Osamu was even more confused, now.

“Oh, I just like it. I got it from a place I had a job in, once.” Odasaku said, airily. Almost like he didn’t want to breach the subject. Osamu tilted his head a little, trying to decipher something in Odasaku’s ever-dull expression, but coming up empty. “So, you stole it from someone you killed?” He asked. Odasaku nodded slowly, “Yeah.”

Noticing the fact he was treading into dangerous territory, Osamu backed off. He wouldn’t, usually, but the last thing he wanted to do was piss off Odasaku more than he already had in the past.

Osamu quickly decided to change the subject. “Hey, Odasaku? Do you think alternate realities exist?”

Odasaku paused, sliding his bookmark into his book and placing it down next to him. “I’ve never really considered it. Why do you ask?”

Osamu smiled at him, “I was just thinking, what if there was a world where Fukuzawa never decided to steal me from the Port Mafia? Would we have still met? Or, what if I grew up to be boss of the Port Mafia? Would we even be friends?”

Odasaku hummed thoughtfully, “I’m not sure. I don’t know the type of man I’d be in those worlds. But I don’t think we wouldn’t have met. I doubt we would’ve ended up as friends had you stayed in the Port Mafia, though. I don’t see how we would have met.”

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. But if those worlds do exist, I hope we stay friends in at least one of them.”

Odasaku smiled softly, returning to his book. Osamu pulled out his phone, flicking through social media for a while.

Ranpo entered the room a bit later, dragging Fukuzawa into the kitchen yet again. Osamu made sure to shift a little closer to the door this time, laying over Odasaku much to the man’s dismay. Chuuya peered at him curiously for a second, but quickly realised what he was doing. Odasaku did too, with the way his expression darkened.

“I figured it out… we need to… don’t you think…”

“Thank you, Ranpo… are you sure… what about…”

Osamu grimaced a little, cursing them for speaking so quietly. What was with people in this house and keeping secrets? Granted, Osamu was just as guilty, if not more, but it didn’t stop him being annoyed by it.

Ranpo and Fukuzawa quickly rejoined the group, Fukuzawa clearing his throat.

“Tomorrow, we are going to begin working on the actual plan of.. permanently releasing Osamu from the Port Mafia. Tonight, I recommend getting a good amount of sleep. We will have a lot of work to do.” Fukuzawa stated, pausing a little before continuing.

“Me and Ranpo are going to head to the Agency now, but you three don’t need to worry about this interrupting your day off. I’ll send Sakunosuke money for food, we will be back quite late.”

With that, Fukuzawa and Ranpo gathered some things, and headed out of the door without leaving room for protest or discussion.

Osamu groaned, flopping down onto the floor directly on top of Chuuya, who yelped. “Fucking- I get you’re mad but jeez!” He yelled, shoving Osamu off of him and standing up.

Osamu didn’t move from his position on the floor, looking like a contorted corpse. “I shall lay here and die. Oh, woe is me! These imbeciles do not have my best interests in mind!” He exclaimed, putting on as much dramatics as possible. Chuuya looked annoyed, but Odasaku didn’t buy it for a second.

“We did tell you.” He stated blankly. Osamu dropped all theatrics, his voice going monotone. “Is it really necessary to do things this early?”

Chuuya looked between the two of them, evidently confused. “Is anyone gonna tell me what’s going on?” He asked, his voice exasperated. Odasaku shook his head, “Not unless you get it out of Dazai. You’ll probably find out eventually, though.”

Osamu just groaned, curling up on the floor. “You know what? I’m going to bed. This sucks, you suck, I hate you.” He muttered, finally standing up and heading to his bedroom.

“It’s only…” Odasaku trailed off, watching Osamu leave.

Osamu lingered in the hallway for a moment, however, just out of sight yet close enough to hear the two’s conversation.

“He’s purposely being difficult to make us give up on him. Don’t let him get to you.” Odasaku said, and Chuuya huffed, “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t make it any less annoying, though. I don’t get what he’s fighting against, he told me himself he doesn’t want to go back.”

“Did he specifically state that, or did he imply it?” Odasaku asked, genuinely curious.

“He specifically said, ‘I don’t want to go back anymore.’ He wouldn’t have lied, would he?” Chuuya said, his tone of voice implying that he definitely would believe that Osamu lied.

Osamu felt his stomach drop, biting his lip as he awaited Odasaku’s response. He wouldn’t just… say Osamu lied, would he? That’d ruin everything Osamu planned so meticulously.

“It’s… complicated. He flip-flops from wanting to go back, and wanting anything but. It’s something I’ve noticed. First thing I’m doing when he’s actually free is getting him a fucking therapist.” Odasaku muttered, and Osamu didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended.

“Good idea. I mean, I don’t know anything but what he’s told me, but it’s whatever.” Chuuya mumbled, and Osamu heard him sit down on the sofa next to Odasaku. He really should just go to his room, but the conversation the two were having was almost enthralling him.

“What did he tell you?”

“That his dad’s in the Port Mafia, he’s an old friend of Fukuzawa’s, shit like that. Dazai said the Port Mafia was pretty shitty to him,” Chuuya paused, evidently trying to remember details of the conversation, “Oh, and he said something happened that made him so flip-floppy.”

Osamu heard Odasaku pause, and Osamu took that as his moment to just head into his room. He didn’t need to hear Odasaku recounting the events of that, nor did he need to hear the man trying to avoid the subject.

Instead, Osamu bundled up under his covers, resigning himself to just laying there for hours until the day went by. He wasn’t tired by any means, but the last thing he wanted to do was hang around people who were so sure they knew him better than he knew himself.

Osamu wasn’t entirely fond of being pushed around like this, at least not by people who weren’t Mori. Then again, he didn’t like being pushed around by Mori, either, but at least the man found his attempts at autonomy cute.

Actually, maybe that wasn’t a good thing either. But Osamu decided it didn’t matter right now.

He lay there for hours, thinking about whatever, from making up stories in his head to trying to figure out the easiest and most painless way to end his life. By the time he zoned back into reality, the sun had gone down.

Osamu let out an exasperated breath, pushing himself out of bed and into the living room. Chuuya was in the bathroom, doing what Osamu assumed was his 500 step self-care routine. That was probably how the boy had such nice hair, and skin, and… whatever else.

Odasaku was on the sofa, a steaming plate of curry on his lap. Atsushi and Q were sitting down quietly, watching Ranpo’s shows. It was funny how Ranpo watched so many kids shows, Osamu thought. Noticing Osamu, Odasaku nodded a little, gesturing to the seat next to him. Osamu rolled his eyes, but sat next to him anyway.

“Had enough of your tantrum?” Odasaku asked. Osamu grimaced, hitting him slightly. “Shut up. It wasn’t a tantrum.”

“So you weren’t upset that we’re gonna kill your father.” Odasaku muttered in a hushed tone, making sure the kids couldn’t hear him.

Osamu said nothing.

“I thought as much.” Odasaku said, returning to his curry.

Osamu stared forward at the TV, not wanting to engage in a conversation like that.

Tomorrow was going to be hell, he knew that very well, but there was no use dreading something that was bound to happen sooner or later. Osamu just wished he had killed himself before this entire mess.

Oh well, he supposed. It wasn’t like they’d get very far.

Chapter Text

The night went on, more or less, without a hitch. Odasaku didn’t bother Osamu much, leaving after a while to usher Q to bed in Fukuzawa’s room, but allowing Atsushi to stay up. Osamu wondered if there really was much of a difference between Q and Atsushi, and why Atsushi was getting to stay up.

Then again, Osamu never remembered having a bedtime. He could remember countless times he wandered into Mori’s office at ungodly hours of the night, demanding attention. Mori usually complied, too. If he wasn’t in a bad mood.

But dwelling on that thought was bound to bring other, more unsavoury ones. So Osamu left the topic alone, retreating to his bedroom to sleep after a short while. Chuuya, Odasaku and Atsushi said nothing at his departure, out of a mixture of awkwardness and acceptance.

Osamu fell asleep after a while of tossing and turning, dreading the day ahead. He spent a while on his phone, downloading various social media apps and making himself accounts that he’d probably never use.

He awoke at his usual time, groaning as he looked at the 5:00AM taunting him. He stayed in bed a while, but he eventually got up, retreating into the bathroom after selecting his usual outfit from the leftover clothes in his drawers. Black dress shirt, a black ribbon, black jeans, a belt, and a bunch of bandages as an afterthought.

He didn’t get in the shower immediately, however. After removing his face bandage, he stared into the mirror, a cheap replacement of the one he broke. He looked… miserable, to say the least.

He looked thinner than before, despite the fact he was already awfully thin for a teenage boy, and his eyes were dull. He lightly pressed his fingers against the cuts near his right eye, now healed over and turning into scars. It had been weeks since a new addition was added to the scars there.

Osamu knew that was a good thing, of course he did. That did not change the fact that was an obvious sign that things were changing. Changing without his approval. He lacked all the control he was so sure he previously had.

But in truth, he wasn’t sure he ever actually had that control. His life was Mori’s. Everything he did, said, and wore was curated by the man to fit his ideal. Of course, Mori didn’t anticipate nor appreciate Osamu’s attitude on occasion, nor his less ideal mental health issues, but it didn’t stop him moulding Osamu into what he wanted despite those things.

Osamu stepped into the shower after shedding his clothes and other bandages, keeping his eyes averted from his body in an act of disgust. He hated the scars, hated the femininity, hated all of it. There was nothing he could do about that, though.

After doing the bare minimum of washing himself and his hair, he stepped out, drying himself quickly. He dried his hair mindlessly, and stood in front of the mirror once more.

A small idea popped into Osamu’s head. He glanced towards the bandages, and then his chest. He usually wrapped the bandages around his neck, thighs and arms, forgoing his chest, but now…

He wrapped them tightly around, narrowing his eyes at the results. It had close enough to the desired effect, and he quickly dressed himself after doing the rest, tying the ribbon into a loose bow in place of a tie. It made him feel a tiny bit better.

He then retreated back to his bedroom for a moment, picking up his charging phone before heading to the living room. Odasaku was asleep on the sofa, his book over his face. Osamu hummed to himself, stealing his new pack of cigarettes and his lighter without a second thought and heading outside to go have one. Odasaku wouldn’t mind, right?

Osamu situated himself on the railing, staring out at the rising sun. He wasn’t quite sure of the time anymore, but if nobody else was up, it didn’t really matter.

“You’re up early.”

Scratch that, Osamu thought. Life hated him.

Chuuya stood in the doorway, a slightly amused expression on his face. His hair was wet, and he was wearing a loose t-shirt and black jeans. Osamu nearly fell off the railing. From shock or something else, Osamu wasn’t aware.

“I get up early every day, Chuuya. Get used to it.” Osamu muttered, lighting his cigarette and returning to staring at the horizon. Chuuya joined him, staying just enough away that he could use his ability to float above the railing like some kind of hooligan. Osamu was not impressed.

“Are you okay? I mean, with what we’re doin’ today, I thought-” Chuuya started, before being cut off by Osamu’s harsh tone, “You thought what? That I’m some kind of sad pathetic child in need of comforting? I don’t need shit, Chuuya. I’m fine.”

Chuuya paused, his expression growing more and more concerned, “You’re clearly not. I mean, you wouldn’t be so defensive if this was just an average day for you.”

Osamu rolled his eyes, taking a drag of the cigarette. “Maybe I’m just an asshole. People can be assholes, you know?”

Chuuya didn’t seem deterred in the slightest, though. He sighed, looking toward the horizon as well. “You are an ass, but I can at least tell when you’re more upset than usual.”

“Because you know me so well? Please.”

“No, because you go quiet and don’t talk to anyone.” Chuuya stated blankly. Osamu shuddered, the bluntness reminding him of Odasaku too much for comfort. It was almost disgusting.

Osamu then, of course, went quiet. He didn’t particularly care that he just proved Chuuya’s point, he was more focused on making the boy just go away.

It didn’t work.

“Osamu, come on. You can at least talk to me. I might not understand, but I’ll try.” Chuuya pushed, his eyes almost pleading. Osamu sighed, taking another drag before replying. “Fine. If you want me to talk so badly, I will.”

Chuuya nodded, putting his attention fully on Osamu. Osamu felt far, far too seen for comfort. Nonetheless, he explained the minimum he could.

“I don’t know how much Odasaku told you,” Osamu paused, taking a breath, “But me and my relationship with the Port Mafia is… complicated. If you just walk in and kill Mori, I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”

Chuuya hesitated for a moment, registering the words Osamu said. His expression somehow became even more concerned. He situated himself on the railing, wrapping an arm around Osamu. Warmth filled Osamu’s body as he nullified Chuuya’s ability, and he leaned into the touch without question.

“I’m sorry. You deserved better than this.” Chuuya mumbled, rubbing Osamu’s shoulder with his thumb. Osamu hummed, holding back a bitter laugh. “It’s not that big of a deal. This is what life is like, you know?”

“It shouldn’t be. You’re only 14, you.. shouldn’t be going through something so difficult.”
Osamu turned to look at him, an empty expression on his face. “You’re also 14, and you’ve been through a lot, too. Don’t act like the Sheep didn’t fuck you up just as badly.”

Chuuya sighed, looking down. “It’s still not fair.”

Osamu nodded, taking another drag of his cigarette before replying, “I know. That’s just how the world is.”

They stayed like that for a while, sitting in a comfortable silence as Osamu smoked and watched the sunrise. They didn’t need to say anything anymore, the company was more than enough.

Eventually, the two separated and headed back inside, Osamu gently holding Chuuya’s hand. He just didn’t want the feeling of nullifying Chuuya’s ability to end, he assured himself. There was no other reason he wanted to be close to the boy.

Chuuya didn’t complain, either, so there was no use dwelling on it.

In the living room, Odasaku was now awake, waiting for the two. He didn’t question when Osamu wordlessly handed him back his cigarettes and lighter before sitting down in Fukuzawa’s chair.

“Good morning. Are you two okay?” Odasaku asked, looking between Chuuya and Osamu. Chuuya nodded, stretching. “Yeah, we’re good. I mean, as good as we can be.”

Odasaku laughed a little, nodding in return. “Makes sense. At least we can have a calm enough morning.” He said as he leaned back onto the sofa.

The early morning went on normally, Chuuya making a breakfast of toast and basically forcing it down Osamu’s throat. He wasn’t completely sure if he appreciated the gesture or not, but at least it tasted a little less like cardboard than usual.

Atsushi woke up around 7:30AM, followed by Q half an hour later. They ate enough toast to satiate them, before sitting down next to Odasaku and bothering him with questions. Osamu noticed Q kept glancing at him, an almost worried expression on their face, but he paid no mind to it.

Chuuya had situated himself on the ceiling at some point, and Osamu wasn’t exactly sure if he was still awake or not. He was kind of like a vampire sleeping like that, Osamu thought.

Eventually, though, Fukuzawa and Ranpo walked through the door. Osamu groaned internally, looking at anywhere but them. They didn’t seem to mind.

“Good morning. I hope you didn’t mind us staying at the Agency overnight.” Fukuzawa said, an amicable smile on his face. He was trying his best to stay composed, it seemed. But the evidence of him staying up all night was clear on his features, and his slightly exhausted sounding voice.

“We didn’t mind at all. I settled the kids fine,” Odasaku said, standing up to greet the two. He hesitated a moment, before continuing, “I.. assume you spent most of the night planning?”

Ranpo nodded, yawning, “Yeah. I got to bed super late! It’s what happens when you do most of the work. This one spent half the night moping.”

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I did not mope. I simply said this is going to be more difficult than most missions.”

“Well, you are assassinating a mafia boss. I can’t imagine that’d be easy~!” Osamu chirped, pulling the cheeriest expression he could. Nobody believed him.

“Meh, not easy for you, maybe.” Ranpo replied, hands on his hips. Osamu held back a scowl, “Like you could just walk into the Port Mafia and kill the guy.”

“Not me, maybe.”

Fukuzawa cleared his throat, shooting both Ranpo and Osamu a warning look. “That’s enough quarrelling. I trust you’re all ready for work?” He asked, leading to a group mumble of affirmation. He nodded, looking rather pleased, “Good. I’ve called one of Ranpo’s friends to come babysit the kids, so let's go to the car.”

And so the group did, piling into Fukuzawa’s car. Osamu was in the middle seat, squished between Chuuya and Odasaku. He was not pleased in the slightest, but at least it gave him free reign to annoy Chuuya to death.

The car arrived at the Armed Detective Agency fairly quickly, everyone filing out, saying hello to the staff at the cafe downstairs, and finding their desks. Osamu sat lazily at his own desk, playing with a paperclip he found on his desk. Ranpo was eating sweets, Chuuya was watching Osamu like a hawk from behind his laptop, and it seemed Odasaku was the only one doing actual work.

It didn’t take long for Fukuzawa to pull everyone into an Agency meeting, however. He stood in front of a blank whiteboard, preparing to begin the meeting. Osamu wasn’t at all interested, but as an ‘Armed Detective Agency member’, he supposed he had to. Saying that still left a sour taste in his mouth, though.

“As this mission will be a rather difficult one to enact, I believe it would be best to state our plan, and give everyone the chance to offer different solutions,” Fukuzawa began, before launching into some monologue about their plan to kill Ougai Mori.

According to Fukuzawa, it was a plan that would rely on Osamu’s connections to members of the Port Mafia who were more likely than not to offer help to Osamu. People like Akiko Yosano, Kouyou Ozaki, and Ryurou Hirotsu. It would also rely on Odasaku’s ability, Flawless, and Chuuya’s ability, For the Tainted Sorrow, during the actual infiltration. Osamu would, of course, be helping with No Longer Human, too.

It was decided that Fukuzawa would be the one to actually kill Mori, and Osamu wasn’t particularly against that certain aspect of the plan. It made sense, really, given their past friendship and the fact Fukuzawa was the only actual adult. Yeah, Odasaku was 19, but Osamu didn’t think he counted as an adult given his idiocy.

The plan itself was interesting. Hirotsu would disable alarms and cameras, Kouyou would order her division to not attack if anyone was noticed, and Akiko would be the one to give them a window of opportunity to actually sneak into the building. It would be up to Odasaku to use his ability to aid their stealth, and Chuuya to sneak through more difficult areas and fight any mafiosos who attacked if things went wrong. Then, Osamu would disable the guards by Mori’s office given that they knew him and wouldn’t immediately attack him, and then it would be up to Fukuzawa.

Osamu personally thought it was a stupid idea. This would be a declaration of war between the Agency and Port Mafia. He thought it’d be better to use himself as bait, but then again, nobody in this room trusted him enough to pull it off. Although, maybe stealth was the better plan, as the realisation that Mori always kept more armed guards around if anyone from the Agency was having a meeting with him popped into his head.

All in all, Osamu kind of just hated the fact they were doing this to begin with. If they had just left him alone, never dragged him from the Port Mafia in the first place, this wouldn’t have been an issue. Sure, he wouldn’t have met any of these people, and the thought of losing Chuuya and Odasaku kind of hurt, but he wouldn’t have even cared about them if he was still in the Port Mafia. Now everything was just a mess, and it was all Fukuzawa’s fault.

“Does anyone have any suggestions?” Fukuzawa asked as he finished his explanation, turning his attention to the members of the Agency. Everyone more or less agreed that this was the best plan of action.

Then, Fukuzawa turned his attention towards Osamu. “I’m going to ask Hirotsu for more detail, of course, but I was wondering if you had any ideas of staying stealthy while infiltrating the Port Mafia?” He asked, his tone becoming a lot softer. Osamu felt pitied. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Just dress like a mafioso, make sure you don’t look like yourself, and you’re home free. There are tons of nameless agents Mori wouldn’t even remember the names or faces of, just pretend to be one of them. I can get Akiko to sneak me some of their ID cards, and I know a guy who can fix them to look like us.” Osamu said, his tone bored. Fukuzawa smiled in response, nodding, “That would be very helpful. Thank you, Osamu.”

Osamu hummed, turning his attention to the ceiling. The meeting continued for a bit longer, before everyone was dismissed to go either prepare themselves or contact the people they were assigned. Fukuzawa wasted no time, calling Hirotsu almost immediately, and Osamu headed to his desk and texted Akiko a quick message asking her to steal IDs.

She responded almost immediately with nothing more than a thumbs up emoji, and Osamu detested the fact he actually had to interact with her for this. He just wanted to go back to his apartment and sleep forever. That would be much nicer than doing work for something he didn’t even want to do.

To add to his discomfort, Chuuya and Odasaku kept looking at him with worried expressions on their faces. He understood that they were just concerned for him, but he couldn’t help but hate it. He just wished they didn’t care. He wished they all just didn’t care about him. He didn’t care about himself, what did they see in him that he didn’t?

Rather than dwelling on that, though, Osamu flipped open his laptop, drafting an email to the person he knew who could edit IDs into whatever he wanted. He had carefully left out the detail that this was not a person Fukuzawa would ever want to be associated with, the fact Osamu barely knew anything about them apart from the fact they were quite the dangerous individual, and the fact the kid was 13 years old. But he’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

Trying to remind himself of all the Russian he knew, he typed up the email quickly, sending it with bated breath. He’d just make Fukuzawa deal with whatever came from becoming indebted to this person in the future. It couldn’t be that bad.

Leaning back in his chair, Osamu sighed. The coming week was about to be hell, but he’d survive. Just like he always did.

Chapter Text

It took a good 18 hours for that god-forsaken Russian to respond to his email. Osamu didn’t time it, of course, but he had enough sense to know that it was a purposeful choice. Luckily enough, though, Osamu had time. In fact, Osamu was rather pleased with the time it took.

It gave him time to plan things out. Time to truly register what he was aiding.

And most of all, it gave him time to bury his own personal feelings about it. He was past the point of being able to have a say, after all.

Akiko had responded a bit after Osamu’s Russian accomplice, telling him to meet her in town at around 4AM, before anyone would notice she was missing. Osamu complained endlessly, but nevertheless arrived on time.

He told the Russian to meet him around an hour later, giving Akiko enough time to get away with no more than a questioning glance from her co-workers.

So now he stood, chilled to the bone, in the middle of town, at exactly 4AM. Mori’s trench coat offered some escape from the cold night, but it did little to quell the stinging of his fingertips and the red tinge to his nose. Not to mention, Osamu had mixed feelings about still wearing the thing.

Akiko arrived 14 minutes later, ID cards in hand and a nervous look on her face. She eyed Osamu warily, her distrust clear as day.

For someone 3 years older than him, she was such a bitch. What did Osamu ever do to her? Except scream at her, chastise her, mock her, etcetera. He can’t be blamed for that, though. It’s her fault for being so insufferable.

“I got what you wanted,” She mumbled shortly, passing him the IDs. He pocketed them, not letting a sliver of gratitude appear on his features. “That took you long enough,” He replied, his gaze cold, bordering on hateful as it fell on her.

And yet Akiko’s expression faltered for a moment, and he could almost trace a sliver of concern. Concern for him. He didn’t like that feeling. He got that enough at the Agency, couldn’t Akiko just… not?

She said nothing about it, however, looking towards the city. “So, that’s it? We’re done here?” She questioned. Osamu nodded, sighing, “I have someone else to meet with in, like, 40 minutes.”

“Figures. You’ve always preferred sorting things out quickly.”

Akiko turned away, preparing to walk off. She paused, however, turning back to look at Osamu.

He didn’t enjoy feeling stared at like that. Especially not by her.

“... Are you sure you can do this?” She asked tentatively, her gaze full of pity. Osamu could punch her, and he did indeed consider it. That would cause more trouble than it was worth, though, so he settled himself with just his unfaltering stare.

“It’ll be easy, I don’t even have to do much,” He chirped, his voice full of a faux-cheerfulness that Akiko could easily see through. If she did, though, she didn’t make it too obvious.

“Fine, whatever. Good luck.”

And with that, Akiko walked off, disappearing into the alleys. Osamu busied himself with heading to the secondary location, even if he was quite early. The moment he got there though, he paused.

They were already here, by the looks of it. A European with very long, black hair tied up in a ponytail, and violet eyes. They also had a rather amused expression on their face.

They were seemingly trying to look inconspicuous, Osamu thought. They were dressed in all black, a hoodie, jeans, and even a black baseball cap. Not something Osamu had ever heard them described as wearing. Although stealth was an important aspect of all of this, Osamu supposed. Working against the Port Mafia as someone unknown was risky.

Osamu simply sighed, mentally switching himself to Russian before speaking, “I thought I said to meet me at five, Dostoevsky. Not,” He momentarily checked his phone, “4:23.”

Dostoevsky just rolled their eyes, their expression not faltering, “I’ve always been one to get places early, Dazai. I expected you to know that!” They said, walking towards Osamu. He could almost see their eyes lighting up.

He’d make some retort, but at this point, it was important to keep Dostoevsky as an ally. Their skills would come in handy, and Osamu was not one to waste an opportunity like that.

“I have the ID cards. How quickly can you fix them up?” Osamu asked, cutting to the chase as he handed Dostoevsky the IDs. They seemed almost disappointed with that, but took them without complaint, “Hmm… They’re awfully simple. If you could lend me a hand with the Japanese, that would be most helpful.”

What kind of 13 year old speaks so politely in their own language? Osamu thought this, but of course, didn’t say it. Instead, he just nodded, “That shouldn’t be difficult,” Osamu looked around a little, “But are we doing it here?”

Dostoevsky grinned, “No. I have a place around here, owned by… friends. They don’t know anything, though. Keep your head down.”

Despite the very clear order, Dostoevsky’s tone didn’t slip from anything but entertained. It completely drove Osamu up the wall, being honest. He couldn’t stand people who thought they were better than everyone else.

Although Osamu acted like that a lot of the time, acting as such and truly believing such a thing are very different. Dostoevsky was not God’s gift, and they should really start acting like it.

Nevertheless, Osamu complied with the order. He followed Dostoevsky into some murky abandoned building just by the edge of town, his legs screaming from the long walk. A warning would’ve been nice, but maybe Dostoevsky just didn’t realise it was so far away. The kid seemed completely unbothered.

“Here we are! My area is just over there, try to ignore everyone else,” Dostoevsky grinned once more, practically dragging Osamu into some corner filled with computers and other gadgets.

Osamu did very much try to ignore everyone else. It was rather difficult, though, because all he could feel were their stares. The group consisted of mostly just… grown men. Probably people Dostoevsky had threatened into doing their bidding, knowing them.

“Do you have the pictures I asked you for?” Dostoevsky asked, sitting down in their seat. Osamu nodded, pulling out a USB. “It’s all there, just.. pick and choose.”

Dostoevsky nodded, before quickly getting to work. Osamu didn’t really bother watching the whole ordeal, only chiming in to come up with simple aliases and help with their spellings. They were all fairly basic.

Fukuzawa’s ID named him Yuki Fujioka, Chuuya’s was Baki Nakagawa, and Odasaku’s name wasn't changed, leaving him simply Sakunosuke Oda. According to Dostoevsky, it was “too unknown” for any members of the Port Mafia to become alarmed.

Ranpo was Ryotaro Endo… which only left Osamu himself.

Dostoevsky looked at him, a mischievous little grin on their face. “Hmm.. How about Shuu Tsushima? Is that a name you think you could answer to?”

Osamu paused, a little confused. All of those names could somehow be traced back to their owner, a purposeful tactic on Osamu’s part. But… that? It was nothing like Osamu Dazai. Plus, it was the first name Dostoevsky had even suggested.

And yet, something about it seemed to carry an air of familiarity. Something tugged at Osamu’s brain, almost like he was trying to remember something long forgotten.

Dostoevsky continued to stare at him, their eyes glinting with something unknown. But with that, the feeling left. It was as if whatever memories were trying to come to the forefront of Osamu’s mind was too locked away to rear its head.

“That’s… fine, I think,” Osamu finally responded, after realising he zoned out a little.

Dostoevsky simply laughed, shaking their head. “I was joking, of course. Come up with your own.”

And Osamu did, entitling himself Minori Oshima. It was further from his own name than the others, but being that the Port Mafia would be on higher alert for him, Osamu thought that was best.

It took a bit for Dostoevsky to actually finish the IDs, but they did so eventually. Osamu was quickly handed shiny new fake IDs, and thanked Dostoevsky.

“Thanks for the help. I should really be going now, who knows when people will realise I’m missing,” He said quickly, pocketing the IDs and being almost halfway out the door by the end of his sentence.

Dostoevsky waved him goodbye with that same annoying smile, and that knowing look never leaving their eyes, “Good luck! Do tell me how it goes, will you?”

-

Osamu bolted through his apartment window at record speed, tracking dirt as he went. He completely fell into his futon, his face being buried in the fabric. Flipping himself over, he quickly checked the time. 7:34AM. Considering the time it took him to get the IDs, falsify them, and run back to his apartment… That was pretty good.

Technically speaking he hadn’t really done anything wrong, but he still felt like he’d be in trouble if Odasaku found out he’d snuck out in the middle of the night. He knew he still couldn’t be trusted.

He had just managed to take off his coat and make it look like he had been sleeping before Odasaku knocked on the door, sounding a little confused.

“Dazai? You’re usually awake by now, is anything up?” He asked, the events of what happened the last time they all slept here evidently on his mind. Osamu let out a quick sound of acknowledgement, before scrambling up to answer the door.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up,” He mumbled, pretending to be tired. Well, he was a little tired, given he had no sleep last night, but that wasn’t uncommon. Osamu was used to running on fumes.

“Good, get yourself dressed. A lot of work ahead of us, hm?” Odasaku commented lightly, and Osamu nodded, “Yes, lots of patricide. I’m aware!”

Odasaku didn’t seem very amused by the joke. Although he never really appeared like anything amused him, much to Osamu’s dismay.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re very excited,” Odasaku paused, thinking a little, “If you’re ready in five, I’ll let you wake Chuuya up.”

Osamu lit up immediately, slamming the door in Odasaku’s face and changing his clothes as fast as possible. He still had his trench coat slung over one shoulder by the time he burst out the door, slamming Chuuya’s door open and basically jumping on top of the boy.

“Argh–! What the fuck, Dazai?!” Chuuya yelped, jumping up out of his futon. Osamu grinned up at him, and then froze.

How was he somehow still pretty after just waking up?! Osamu was deeply offended. Nay, outraged. He was going to shove Chuuya’s face in dirt the moment he got the chance, and then maybe throw him into the Yokohama river for good measure.

Chuuya looked incredibly annoyed, but he just grumbled to himself, before looking at Osamu. “Are you just gonna lay there while I get changed, or…?”

Osamu coughed a little, before standing up and brushing himself down, “Like I’d watch a slug like you do something like that. You disgust me, how dare you even entertain such a dreadful thought.”

With that, he left the room with as much grace as he could muster, which was not much. Odasaku actually did look a little amused now, standing against the railing with a cigarette between two fingers. Why was the only time he looked happy when Osamu was being bullied? It was incredibly rude.
Chuuya eventually headed out of his room, though, dressed in what seemed like whatever was clean. That rang true, with Chuuya muttering something about needing to do his laundry.

The group then decided to head towards the Agency, not waiting for Fukuzawa to come pick them up. Although, it was technically more of Odasaku’s decision, but Osamu wasn’t going to argue with him, and Chuuya didn’t have much of an opinion either way.

They entered the cafe at the bottom of the Agency, Osamu tired and already done with life. He was even more done with life when Odasaku sat down in the cafe, gesturing for the other two to join him.

“I thought we’d get breakfast,” He said simply. Osamu was about to throttle him, but the look of, “If you don’t eat this damn food, I’ll eat your loved ones,” was clear as day on Odasaku’s otherwise dull features. Osamu just groaned, nodding solemnly.

Odasaku ordered curry, Chuuya ordered eggs and toast and Osamu ordered pancakes with chocolate and strawberries. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, usually not caring for such things, but sometimes… It did seem like a nice idea.

The three ate in silence, mostly. Chuuya and Odasaku discussed things that interested them a few times, but everyone mostly focused on their food. Osamu didn’t appreciate it, wanting a distraction more than anything, but he wasn’t going to start a conversation. Not because he was feeling especially antisocial today, but because he just didn’t have anything to talk about.

Not with his thoughts so painfully focused on the day ahead.

When would Fukuzawa make them carry out this mission? Would Osamu be forced to watch? What if they were caught? What if Mori killed them all?

Could he finally convince everybody it wasn’t worth the risk…?

The answer to that was no, Osamu knew. Yet, it did not stop the thoughts rampaging in his mind, making it impossible for him to think of anything better. He hated it when this happened.

Chuuya noticed his abnormal silence after a moment, poking Osamu, who was pushing around a strawberry on his plate.

“Yo, Dazai. What’s up?” He questioned, leaning forward slightly to peer at him. Osamu just rolled his eyes, “Nothing. I’m not some sad kid you need to cheer up, you know?”

Chuuya huffed, leaning back. He and Odasaku waited until Osamu had finished a majority of his food, and finally let him leave the table.

They headed up the stairs in silence, and Odasaku opened the door to the Agency hesitantly. Ranpo was sorting through paperwork, and Fukuzawa was sitting at Ranpo’s desk. Fukuzawa nodded a little seeing the group, but did not greet them properly.

It made sense, Osamu thought. He could almost guarantee the two spent the night at the Agency again.

The group then got to work, Osamu delivering the IDs to Fukuzawa as soon as he got the opportunity. The man looked quite pleased, offering Osamu a small smile.

“Thank you. I hope these weren’t too difficult for you to acquire,” He said, his voice tired. Osamu grinned, “No, it was easy. Having friends like mine is quite helpful, hm?”

Fukuzawa nodded with a smile, and Osamu didn’t exactly have the heart to say they weren’t actually his friends.

With that, the conversation was over, and Osamu got back to lying on top of his desk and staring towards the ceiling. His work was practically done, and he was rather glad of it.

Well, apart from the fact the next thing he actually had to do was help them sneak into the Port Mafia and then kill his father. It seemed like far too much hassle than it’s worth, but Osamu had no right to complain.

He had to keep reminding himself that. He didn’t want to make this harder than it needed to be for everyone else, being that he couldn’t convince them otherwise.

Osamu paused in his thoughts, pulling out his phone.

He could always… warn Mori about it.

No, it was too late for that. He’d be getting Kouyou, Akiko and Hirotsu in trouble by doing that.

Plus, he didn’t want everyone here to hate him. Especially because they’d die hating him, knowing Mori. The moment Mori caught wind of a plan like this, Osamu was sure he’d end up killing everyone involved. Well, almost everyone.

Osamu sighed, putting his phone back into his pocket and returning his blank gaze to the ceiling.

Today had been a long day.

Tomorrow was going to be longer.

Osamu’s time to lament this was practically over, and he had to be okay with that.

He closed his eyes with a huff, crossing his arms.

All’s well that ends well, he supposed.

Chapter Text

Osamu woke up after a few hours, realising with annoyance that he had genuinely fallen asleep on his desk. That wasn’t the best plan he ever came up with, given that today was supposed to be for planning, but his work was still done.

Was he supposed to run through the plan in his head again? Probably, he admitted to himself, but he was in no mood to. The only thing he wanted to do was curl up and die.

He sat up, peering around the room. Everyone was still working, looking a little stressed and rather disorganised in a strangely organised way. They all had very important work to do. He couldn’t blame them for being such tryhards.

With that, he slid off his desk and walked over to Ranpo, peering at his computer over the boy's shoulder. Ranpo didn’t bother turning to him until a few seconds went by, his expression curious.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in what I’m doing?” He questioned, smiling slightly. This workload was making Ranpo more worried than usual, he was even wearing his glasses at this point, and that… wasn’t something Osamu was too happy about.

“Eh, I know what everyone else is doing just by looking at them!” Osamu lied, a forced grin on his face. That wasn’t true, but he was nowhere close to being interested in what Odasaku and Chuuya had to be doing.

“Or you just feel bad that you’ve been avoiding me? I’m not stupid, ‘Samu.” Ranpo grinned back, a lot more honest. Osamu bristled, but kept his expression steady, “Ah… I just didn’t want you figuring things out about me.”

Ranpo laughed at that, shoving a sweet into Osamu’s mouth. “Shut up, stupid. It’s not my fault you’ve been covering stuff up less recently.”

Osamu’s eyes widened a little, surprised by the, albeit very weird, show of affection. The sweet tasted nice, though, so that was a plus.

“My bad..? I just didn’t see the point of putting effort into it.”

Ranpo hummed, choosing not to respond and instead focus on his work. Osamu took that as his cue to leave, deciding he’ll bother Ranpo later. He did somewhat feel bad for avoiding the boy, but not by much. It was Ranpo’s fault for being so perceptive.

Osamu returned to his desk, doodling on a sheet of printer paper for a while until Fukuzawa walked into the room. Osamu checked his phone, wondering if it was somehow time to leave already, but it was only 12PM. Nowhere near.
Nonetheless, Fukuzawa cleared his throat, “I’ve decided that we will head home for now. We’ll have to wake up early tomorrow morning, and working late into the night will only do us harm. I would prefer all of us staying at my apartment tonight. Is that okay with you all?” He asked the question to Odasaku, more than anyone else.

Odasaku nodded, and Chuuya made a noise of agreement as well.

“That’s settled, then. Osamu, I’m sure Q and Atsushi will be happy to see you.”

Fukuzawa then headed back into his office to pack his things. Everybody else made similar movements, while Osamu huffed, arms crossed as he waited.

After a few moments they all trailed out to Fukuzawa’s car, awkwardly stuffing themselves into the vehicle. It fit them all, of course, but it was the atmosphere of the thing that was making it feel so cramped.

Osamu didn’t have the energy to break the awkward silence. Not while knowing what would happen tomorrow.

The car arrived at Fukuzawa’s apartment, and it took all of 3 seconds after walking through the door for Osamu to notice something was off.

It was clean, for one. Well, it was always clean, but this was nothing short of pristine. The kids were nowhere to be seen, too. Probably somewhere in one of the bedrooms.

Nobody really paid it any mind except Osamu, though, and they all settled in the living room. Osamu, however, stood perfectly where he was, waiting.

A blond teenager walked in from the kitchen, a questioning look on his face that dwindled when he saw everyone.

“You’re back. I was starting to wonder how long I was going to have to be here.” The boy said, his voice loud and assertive. Osamu felt immediately uncomfortable.

The blond boy’s eyes fell onto Osamu, and his expression hardened slightly.

“... Who is-”

Fukuzawa stood up.

“Ah, right. Doppo, that is a new employee of mine, Osamu Dazai. Osamu, this is Doppo Kunikida. He’s a few years older than you, and he’s been taking care of the apartment while we’ve been away.”

Kunikida and Osamu shared a look, Kunikida’s expression doing everything but saying out loud, ‘I have a bad feeling about you.’

Osamu simply ignored him, sitting down next to Chuuya and nonchalantly wrapping his arms around the boy. Chuuya looked puzzled for a second, but accepted it like it was the most usual thing in the world. Osamu was pleased he was finally wearing the boy down.

“Right. I’m assuming those two are new employees too,” Kunikida glanced at the two, slightly more trusting towards them yet still on edge.

“Anyway, I’ve cleaned up the apartment for you, and the kids are playing in your bedroom, Mr Fukuzawa.” Kunikida said, returning to his very prim-and-proper demeanour. Osamu held back a laugh, watching as Fukuzawa paid the boy and let him out of the building after a short goodbye to himself and Ranpo.

The room was silent for a second, before Osamu spoke, “Well… He seemed like he had a stick up his ass.”

Ranpo burst out laughing, and even Odasaku was trying to hold back an amused smile.

“God, you can say that again. He’s a student-teacher, being that he graduated early. He also has a side job as a tutor, along with babysitting. How he’s one of my friends, I don’t know…” Ranpo said through giggles, taking a breath to calm himself down.

“He seems kinda.. old to be your friend, Ranpo.” Chuuya muttered, making a face at the idea. Ranpo stifled some more giggles, “He’s only 17, you know! He just doesn’t act like it.”

With that, the room finally became a lot more breathable. After a while of talking, and watching random TV shows, Fukuzawa had ordered food for the group. Two large pizzas, with the excuse that he was completely running out of money. Osamu, for once, accepted it gratefully. There was no point moping about on the last day of peace. Once it was delivered, Atsushi and Q joined the group rather quickly.

After eating all he could stomach, Osamu settled himself more into Chuuya’s side, exhausted and filled with emotions he didn’t want to name. He didn’t want to feel awful right now, but there was no way he couldn’t be. At least he had his friends here.

It sounded so awfully soft to admit, and Osamu hated himself for it, but he was so glad he met these people. He didn’t know what could’ve become of him if he hadn’t been rescued.

Would he have become what Mori wanted him to be? His successor, a ruthless Port Mafia boss? Or would something later on have convinced him to defect? Or, would he have fully succeeded in offing himself?

Would he have ever met Chuuya? Would their, albeit new, relationship still exist? What about Odasaku, who hated everything the Port Mafia stood for despite previously working alongside them? What if he had joined the Agency, and Osamu didn’t? If they had stayed enemies, never becoming friends. Even losing Ranpo and Fukuzawa seemed awful.

Would he have ever found out he had a sibling? Would he have ever met Atsushi? He hadn’t spent a lot of time getting to know the two, but he knew he would after this all was over.

He knew he was capable of everything he didn’t want, he was certain of that, but the cards laid out for him now weren’t as awful as he first thought.

There was no use dwelling on what could have been, when the thought only scared him. Instead, Osamu focused on the here and now. This very moment between what could be considered his new family, no matter how flawed it was.

Chuuya poked his cheek, noticing Osamu was getting lost in thought. “You good?” He asked, and Osamu nodded a little. “Yeah, I was just thinking.. I’m glad I met all of you.”

Chuuya actually smiled at him, properly. The rest of the group all seemed happy by that admittance, too. As much as Osamu thought he was wearing most of them down, it appeared they were doing the same.

“Well, we’re not going anywhere,” Odasaku chimed in, it being the closest thing to stereotypically nice he’d probably ever say. Osamu appreciated it, offering a small yet genuine smile to the group.

The rest of the afternoon and evening progressed calmly, and Osamu quietly thought to himself it was the nicest calm before the storm he had ever experienced. He tried not to think about the possible ways everything could go downhill, instead focusing on here and now. He wasn’t the type to do that before, but considering he and everyone else could die tomorrow, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

Soon enough, the moon was high in the night sky and everyone was preparing to head to bed. Atsushi and Q were already asleep on the sofa, next to Odasaku who was trying, and failing, to write in his notebook. Fukuzawa was in the bathroom, and Chuuya was on the ceiling, scrolling through Osamu’s phone. Osamu himself was sitting next to Ranpo on the floor.

He wasn’t exactly.. certain of the sleeping arrangements. His room in the house was currently being lent to the toddler and child duo, and he couldn’t exactly sleep on the ceiling like Chuuya could.

Almost sensing that thought process, Ranpo poked him in the shoulder.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight? You’ve done it before.” He asked, pretending he didn’t already know the answer.

Osamu sighed, feigning exasperation, “Fine, if I have no other choice.”

With that, the two bid Odasaku and Chuuya goodnight, and headed down the hallway into Ranpo’s bedroom. It was cleaner in terms of wrappers on the floor, but they were just replaced with scribbled notes that Osamu, even with his notoriously horrible handwriting, couldn’t begin to figure out.

It took him an embarrassingly long time staring at them as Ranpo put his pyjamas on to realise they were all in Mandarin.

“... I didn’t know you knew Chinese?” Osamu tilted his head, peering up at the boy. Ranpo simply grinned, “I can do a lot of things nobody knows about. It’s ‘cause I’m so smart!” He bragged, not even attempting to hide it.

Osamu sighed, “If you’re just going to talk about how smart you are all night, I’ll go sleep on a bench outside.”

He lay down on the bed, quickly joined by Ranpo. “Nah, you like me too much to abandon me!” Ranpo grinned at him, before diving head first into the pillow.

Osamu would’ve chastised him for it, but found himself too tired to do so. He settled down himself, eyes drooping shut as he tried to focus on the feeling of not being alone, instead of the sense of impending doom. He slipped into an uneasy sleep, ready to spring up whenever.

-

Osamu woke up to Chuuya poking his face. He blinked up at the boy, eyes adjusting to the darkness.

At first, he thought it was because Chuuya decided to be annoying, but noticing the grim expression on the others face, he quickly realised otherwise.

“C’mon, get ready. Port Mafia operates at night, and all that.”

Osamu mumbled something about how Chuuya was preaching to the choir, rolling out of bed. He belatedly realised Ranpo was already gone, but it was nothing to focus on.

What he needed to do now, was disguise himself as well as possible. That was easier said than done, but… he had a few ideas. It took a quick rummage through Ranpo’s clothes, and grabbing Odasaku’s coat off the floor, a pair of Fukuzawa’s glasses, and he was ready.

He swapped his neck bandages for Chuuya’s choker, and shoved Odasaku’s coat over his arms. Once he had placed Fukuzawa’s glasses on, he was all set. Mildly blind, but ready.

“... You look like an old man.” Chuuya muttered, looking thoroughly unimpressed. His outfit was the complete opposite of Osamu’s, opting to just wear a suit like any old Port Mafia grunt. He looked good in it, though, which was a plus.

“Well, you look like a fa-”

“Is that my fucking coat?” Odasaku walked into the room, looking like he had been searching for something. Osamu grinned at him, not an ounce of guilt on his face. “No, why would you think that?”

Odasaku blinked at him, evidently pushing his mild annoyance aside. “It’s… way too big for you, kid. You look like you dressed in your dad’s work clothes.” He said, looking just as unimpressed as Chuuya.

“Oh, come on. Think about it, I’d never wear something like this. It’s too beige. Mori won’t recognise me at all!” Osamu placed his hands on his hips, looking triumphant. His company didn’t seem as enthusiastic.

“Right…” Chuuya muttered.

“Whatever floats your boat, I guess,” Oda said.

Eventually, Ranpo and Fukuzawa came into the room, dressed in their equally boring disguises. Pretty much just suits again, apart from the coat over Fukuzawa’s shoulders that he had borrowed from Osamu. He looked quite uncomfortable in it, but practicality beat comfort in this situation.

Osamu just wished the Port Mafia lackeys had a better sense of fashion.

“Well, I’ve called Doppo to come over soon. We should get going,” Fukuzawa reached into his pocket, pulling out the fake IDs, “Here are the IDs, get acquainted with your aliases.”

The group took their respective IDs, placing them in their pockets before heading out the door.

It was time to actually do this.

It was time to kill Ougai Mori.

-

Ougai sat in his seat, a calm smile on his face. Elise was doodling in a corner, as she usually did when Ougai wasn’t paying much attention to her. He didn’t really care for it right now.

He had more important matters on his mind.

“Ryurou, I’m glad you could make it.”

Hirotsu stood before him, looking a mix of guilty and nervous, “What did you need, boss?”

“You’ve told everyone to let them in, correct?”

Hirotsu hesitated, before nodding.

“I have,” he paused, taking a breath, “What do you plan on doing to them?”

Ougai hummed, pretending to mull it over.

“Well, a plot like this by one of my own can’t be overlooked,” he cast a knowing look at Hirotsu, “I’m disappointed, but I’m not surprised. In any case, I’ll deal with them myself. Perhaps let them think they have a fighting chance.”

Hirotsu grimaced at that, but quickly plastered an expressionless look on his face.

Ougai smiled at him, no trace of annoyance on his carefully calculated features.

“Don’t think you, Kouyou and Yosano are getting away with this, either. Nor that group of foreigners.”

Hirotsu nodded, shifting against the bindings on his wrists.

“I’m well aware of that.”

-

The group arrived at the Port Mafia with as much forced calmness as each of them could muster. An agent from Kouyou’s division let them in, pretending to check their IDs with neutrality.

Osamu felt it was weird that this was now considered enemy territory. This was once his one and only home, the only one he had really ever had. Now, he was out to almost destroy it.

But his anxieties were to be dealt with internally. On the outside, he was cool as ice, much like his company. Fukuzawa took the lead, leading them through the Port Mafia while carefully avoiding any attention, keeping the group as far away from each other as was possible to keep suspicion low.

But Osamu wasn’t bothered by the sneaking around, or the sense of danger.

Because oddly, he wasn’t feeling any. Everything seemed… underguarded. There were less people around than usual, and the ones he did see didn’t even spare them a glance.

It took Osamu an embarrassingly long time to realise they walked straight into a trap.

Embarrassingly long, because they now stood in the elevator leading up to the top floor.

He should’ve seen the signs. They all should’ve seen the signs.

He glanced towards Ranpo, who had a steely expression on his face. Osamu shot him a look, trying to convey the thought of ‘how long have you known?’

Ranpo looked at him with almost… fear.

‘Too long. What choice did I have?’

Osamu let out a breath and braced himself for hell.

The elevator doors opened, and Osamu took the lead. He shrugged off Oda’s coat, throwing it at the man before trying desperately to blend into the shadowy hallway. The guards by Mori’s door weren’t the usual ones, instead lower level grunts that Osamu couldn’t name if he tried.

He tried to make it merciful as he slit one’s throat, stabbing the other in the head before he had the chance to react. They couldn’t have known what they were getting into.

He didn’t feel bad for them, but he felt pity for them. They were pathetic for not realising this wasn’t going to end well.

It was weird how even being in the building returned his thoughts to something unfeeling.

He pocketed their guns and stood by the door, quickly joined by the rest of the group. Fukuzawa closed his eyes, seemingly bracing himself, before he shoved the door open.

Oda was in first, wielding his signature two pistols, and was quickly followed by Chuuya and Fukuzawa. Ranpo and Osamu hung back, staying by the doorway.

But Mori wasn’t there.

No, what greeted the group was Akiko, her hands bound, and her face bloody and bruised.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” She asked, and instead of the hostility Osamu expected, it was just… sorrow. She sounded miserable.

Osamu stepped forward, looking at her with wide eyes.

“... Shit. Where is he?” He asked, cutting to the chase. Oda had already gotten to work cutting off the zip tie around Akiko’s wrists, trying to ignore the bruising.

Just how long had she been like this? How long had the entire Armed Detective Agency spent planning this while Mori knew their entire plan from day one?

Ranpo quickly spoke up, “He’s on the roof, waiting for us. He’s not planning an ambush from what I can tell, but…” he trailed off, looking to the ground. Nobody needed him to continue.

“Get out of here. It’s your best chance of getting out alive if we lose,” Fukuzawa said, pulling out his katana from where he had hidden it underneath the coat.

Osamu looked at him, no trace of hope behind his eyes.

“You won’t be able to do it.”

Fukuzawa took a deep breath, turning towards the door.

“I can still try.”

With that, everyone left the room. Fukuzawa let Akiko leave first, before everyone else started the short journey to the rooftop. There was little optimism among them, but the unbridled rage within most kept them pushing on. It was an unspoken agreement, that if this wasn’t going to work, then they weren’t going down without a fight.

The elevator doors opened, and Fukuzawa stepped forward.

“Ougai.”

Mori turned towards them, hands clasped behind his back and a sick grin on his face. Kouyou and Hirotsu were standing nearby, their expressions unreadable.

“Did you truly think I wouldn’t see this coming? I’m no idiot, Yukichi. You just can’t keep blood off your hands, can you?” Mori said, stepping forward but keeping enough distance that Fukuzawa couldn’t just stab him right there and then.

“I didn’t want to do this. You… You’ve left me no other fucking choice.” Fukuzawa said, trying to keep his voice level even as it wavered.

“I left you plenty of choice. You always were the more arrogant one out of the two of us,” Mori paused, “Say, where did the boy that stayed by my side no matter what go?”

Fukuzawa stepped forward, almost burning with rage.

“That disappeared when you decided to become the scum of the earth,” Fukuzawa brandished his sword, quickly joined by Oda and Chuuya. “I’m not leaving until one of us is dead.”

“Fine, then. I was hoping you’d listen to reason.” Mori sighed, unclasping his hands and throwing a scalpel towards Oda, who narrowly avoided it. Kouyou unsheathed her sword, and Hirotsu stepped towards Chuuya.

“Let’s finish this, Yuki,” Mori grinned.

What followed next was a bloodbath. Osamu tossed Ranpo one of the guns he had taken, more for self defence than anything else.

Chuuya quickly started throwing large pieces of the building after Hirotsu started going after him, trying to avoid being hit by the man’s ability which he had quickly found out does not go well with gravity manipulation. Osamu was aiding him, trying his hardest to restrain the other man while avoiding being hit directly. Oda was shooting at Kouyou, aiming for anywhere but vital organs while narrowly avoiding being sliced into pieces by Golden Demon, and Ranpo was aiding Fukuzawa by attacking Elise, using the gun as some kind of blunt weapon, attempting to keep her distracted.

The sound of crashing metal and gunshots was deafening. Osamu could hear nothing but ringing, and the only thing driving him forward was his mind screaming at him to not let it end like this. Nothing could make him let it end like this. He wasn’t going to let the people he loved die. Not for some perverted freak who called himself Osamu’s father.

It was Hirotsu who let up first, practically letting himself be subdued by Dazai. Dazai tried to ignore the cracking sound as he knocked the man out with the back of his gun, hoping the resulting concussion wouldn’t be too bad. Then, Osamu and Chuuya turned their attention to Kouyou.

“We need to- we need to get her down. Oda’s got his ability, sure, but-” Chuuya huffed out, pulling up a piece of metal to shield the two from Oda’s deflected bullets.

“Listen to me. Use her being distracted to your advantage. Sneak up behind her, knock her out as gently as you can so we can focus on Ri-.. Mori. Can you do that?” Osamu said, trying to catch his breath.

Chuuya nodded, and the two shared a quick hug before Chuuya darted out, sprinting behind Kouyou.

She noticed him, of course, but as she turned towards him, one of Oda’s bullets hit her in the back of the leg. She fell to the ground immediately, and Chuuya gripped her hair and slammed her head into the concrete with just enough force to keep her down, too.

Now it was just Mori and Elise. Chuuya focused his attention on throwing anything he could towards him. Osamu’s discarded gun, debris, Mori’s own scalpels, anything. Elise deflected most of it, some of it was hitting Fukuzawa instead, and the rest didn’t seem to phase the man. He was putting his all into taking down Fukuzawa.

“Do you really think you can win this, Yukichi? You’ve always been the weaker out of the two of us! Do you think this’ll make Natsume proud of you? Is that why you’re trying to be the hero? Take Osamu for yourself so you can finally get what you wanted?!” Mori shouted, gripping Fukuzawa’s arm as he tried to disarm the man.

Fukuzawa didn’t respond, gritting his teeth as he tried to push Mori to the ground. Mori laughed, almost manic. Using the grip he had on Fukuzawa due to the action, he turned around and threw the other to the ground instead.

That was when Mori made his first and last mistake. Elise stopped for a moment, and Mori had his eyes on Fukuzawa while everyone else had their attention on Mori.

Osamu darted forward, slamming his entire body weight into the man. Elise disappeared in an instant, and Chuuya, Oda and Ranpo took the opportunity to pile on Mori.

Fukuzawa stood, bloody and exhausted but driven. He picked up his katana, stepping forward. He placed his foot on Mori’s chest, pressing down.

He placed the tip of his sword onto Mori’s neck.

“Do you think everything I do, is for our family’s sake? Grow up, Ougai. That part of me died a long time ago.”

Mori glared up at him, his smile never relenting.

“Haha.. You always have been such a disappointment. You know,” He paused, taking a steady breath, “Maybe this is why I loved Osamu more than I ever loved you.”

Fukuzawa faltered at that. He looked enraged, yet it was obvious he wasn’t just going to take that without retort. It was almost as if he was hesitating.

“You’re fucking disgusting. To think I care about your love now, after everything? I should’ve put you out of your misery a long time ago.”

Mori sighed, closing his eyes. “That was your mistake.”

Osamu stood there, feeling cold as ice. He stepped forward a little, almost unconsciously. Mori noticed this, eyes falling to the boy as he smirked.

“Ah.. Osamu, dear. Are you really going to let this happen to me? After everything I did for you?” He asked, putting on a sickly sweet voice that Osamu only ever heard in his nightmares.

“... Stop it. Just stop it.” Osamu whispered, now standing just to the side of Fukuzawa.

“I’ve thought a long time about what I would say to you if I had the chance,” Osamu began, taking a deep breath, “And want to know what I found out?”

Mori didn’t answer, simply just listening as he stared at his son.

“I found out that, truthfully, it doesn’t matter what I had to say. Nothing I felt about you was real. All the crossed signals and disgusting feelings you made me have. They made me realise that you’re pathetic.”

Mori’s eyes widened a little, but his smile didn’t falter.

“Really, now? What has Yukichi been telling you, dear? You know I only ever treated you with love.”

Dazai looked at Fukuzawa. He was thinking the same thing, it seemed.

“No form of parental love makes someone do those things. You treated me like I was your possession. I was 11 years old and you turned me into…”

“Into what?”

“You turned me into something I can’t just walk away from. I can’t forgive you for that. I will never forgive you for that. Maybe some part of me does still love you,” he paused, “but that was your mistake.”

Osamu turned away, walking a bit behind Mori and Fukuzawa.

It was as if the air stilled, as if everyone was waiting with bated breath for what would happen next. Osamu crouched down, picking something up off the floor.

He walked back, standing next to Fukuzawa.

“I hate you. I really do,” Osamu muttered, “and I’m glad I’ll never fucking see you again.”

He then pushed Fukuzawa out of the way, placing his own foot on Mori’s chest and pointing his discarded gun at the man’s head.

…

And then it was over. Dazai stepped off of the corpse of his father, dropped the gun, and fell to the ground.

Mori was dead.

Mori was dead and Osamu didn’t know why he was crying.

-

The rest of the night was a blur. Kouyou and Hirotsu were awake by the time it all happened, and Kouyou quickly took charge of the situation despite her injuries. Chuuya mumbled an apology to her, evidently distracted by everything, and she simply said it was what was needed at the time.

Odasaku, Chuuya and Ranpo took Osamu back to the ADA’s dormitory while Fukuzawa stayed back, and Osamu assumed he had his own reasons for that. The two had a history, and despite how abhorrent Mori was, Fukuzawa had a right to feel whatever he needed to.

The four stayed in Odasaku’s room, all far too awake to consider sleeping even as the sun signified the early morning. Osamu didn’t know how to feel. He knew everything he said was true- he wouldn’t have said them if they weren’t, but he still felt... wrong, somehow. Like he had lost a part of himself.

Odasaku assured him that was normal, and he, Chuuya and Ranpo spent the rest of the morning trying to cheer Osamu up a little bit. Osamu appreciated the effort, but it didn’t really work.

Eventually the four fell asleep, waking up in the late afternoon to a knock at Odasaku’s door.

Osamu didn’t bother to look up and check who it was, knowing it would most likely be Fukuzawa. He was right in that assumption, and the man sat down with them.

“Are you all doing okay?” He asked, evidently knowing the answer but just asking out of formality. Odasaku hummed, “As much as we can be.”

Fukuzawa nodded, “I assumed as much.”

He took a breath, before beginning to speak again. “Kouyou has taken over the position as the Port Mafia’s leader, and has offered an off-the-books alliance between our organisations. I’ve taken her up on the offer.”

He looked towards Osamu, “She’s offered you a position as both a member of the Port Mafia and Armed Detective Agency once you’ve recovered, as a kind of.. Port Mafia ambassador. I know how much the Port Mafia meant to you, with or without Mori, so I decided to pass the message along.”

Osamu nodded, thinking above all else that it was a smart idea. Even ignoring Mori’s obvious nepotism, Osamu was a valued member of the Port Mafia by his ability alone.

Not only that, and he would never admit it aloud, but he had no reason to leave anymore. It was a position that would give him the best of both worlds. He’d keep his friends, and keep a part of his identity that he wasn’t ready to lose.

“It sounds like a solid plan to me. Tell her I say thanks.” Osamu said, attempting to sound more upbeat but failing miserably.

Fukuzawa nodded at that, smiling slightly, before addressing the entire room once more. “Not only that, but Akiko Yosano will be transferred from the Port Mafia to the Armed Detective Agency in the near future. I hope you’ll all make her feel welcome.”

Ranpo smiled at that, “Thank god! I couldn’t stand watching her look so miserable all the time anymore.”

“You.. know her?” Osamu asked. Ranpo simply smiled at him, ignoring the question.

Fukuzawa cleared his throat, “Now, since that’s all, I thought we could all go to my home. I told Doppo a.. mild retelling of what happened and he decided to make dinner for us all. I think it would be nice to take a break.”

Odasaku nodded, and Chuuya seemed quite happy with the idea, too. Osamu not so much.

“Ugh, does that mean I’ll have to be in the same room as him? I’ll pass.”

Chuuya punched him in the shoulder, “Shut up, moron. Fukuzawa’s trying to be nice.”

The two quickly began bickering, and it continued all the way to Fukuzawa’s apartment. It was Odasaku who finally got the two to stop, threatening to ‘turn this car around’ despite the fact he wasn’t driving.

The dinner was nice, too. Kunikida seemed a little awkward, but he was great with Atsushi and Q, and he was an amazing cook, even though it pained Osamu to think it. Nevertheless, it was a welcome change from the utter misery he was feeling earlier in the day.

Things seemed like they were finally going to change for the better.

Things finally felt… okay.

Chapter Text

Two years after the death of Ougai Mori, life was more-or-less back to normal. The Port Mafia was rebuilt, thriving under Kouyou’s leadership, and the Armed Detective Agency grew to be a well-respected and quite powerful organisation.

Osamu Dazai was now 16 years old, and although healing is not a linear process, he may or may not have become a little less miserable. Kunikida had joined the Agency a year ago, becoming Odasaku’s partner, and Chuuya was Dazai’s. Ranpo was pretty much the same, still quite the slacker despite his intelligence and being second-in-command, and Akiko was the Agency’s resident doctor. Q usually hung around with Atsushi, who had become an errand boy for the café downstairs a few months ago, when Dazai was busy.

The Port Mafia mostly stayed out of the Agency’s way, with a few spats here and there. However, Dazai was quite the peacekeeper between the two organisations, even though he suspected that was more to do with the fact pretty much everyone knew he was the one to murder the previous boss. Although, without the reason why he did, many were confused on why Dazai wasn’t the one to take up the vacant leadership position. That wasn't Dazai's problem to deal with, however.

All in all, it seemed like things were going to be fine.

Dazai hummed, spinning in his desk chair as he ignored the emails on his laptop. He was bored, considering raiding Ranpo’s snack drawer just for the thrill of it while he was in Yosano’s office, or seeing what Atsushi was up to in the café.

His boredom was seemingly short-lived, though. Kunikida walked into the room, looking a little more stressed than usual, which was saying something.

“The President has called a meeting. It’s important, so please make sure to actually go to it.” Kunikida said, staring pointedly at Dazai, who had quite the history of convincing Odasaku or Chuuya to skip attending meetings in favour of either going to Bar Lupin with Dazai’s new Port Mafia friend, Ango, or running around the city causing mayhem, respectively.

Dazai groaned, stretching as he got out of his seat. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.” He said, looking towards Odasaku and Chuuya. The two didn’t seem to be in the mood for anything, evidently put off by Kunikida’s attitude, so Dazai decided to drop the idea.

The four headed into the meeting room, quickly followed by Yosano and Ranpo. Fukuzawa was standing by the projector, his expression calm, yet Dazai could pick up on something being… off.

As everyone settled into their seats, Fukuzawa spoke.

“We have been contacted by a foreign organisation by the name of The Guild, led by a man named Francis Fitzgerald. I’m not entirely sure what their intentions are, but they’ve already tried something with the Port Mafia, and I don’t have high hopes,” he paused, taking a breath.

“And I feel I should mention, they’re in the city now, and are planning on having a meeting with us today.”

Dazai nodded, finding this a little inconvenient but nothing to be worried about. He wasn't quite sure why Fukuzawa looked so worried about it. Looking around the room, it seemed most people (apart from Kunikida, who was always worried during meetings,) shared the same thought. Except...

Odasaku had turned pale as a ghost. Dazai felt his heart drop.

If he was worried, then whatever this was...

It couldn’t be good.