Chapter Text
Chuuya was launching in his penthouse, lying on the couch and looking at the ceiling. Nothing seemed to be interesting enough to pay attention to. Small snowflakes fell down out of the sky beyond the window, it all looked dull in his eyes. He moves a hand above him, wiggling his fingers. It all looked so dull. No emotion behind the movement.
Everything has been like this since he left. Chuuya let his hand fall, no, he couldn't think about that right now, not anymore, he had promised himself.
He dragged his body over to the kitchen. The fridge was empty, he saw no need to fill it but regrets it now. He's hungry. With a sigh, he walks to the door and puts on his coat and shoes.
As he leaves the house, he starts walking; he doesn't feel like using his motorcycle. Walking to the store took a lot longer than expected. The cold weather bites into his skin. It was winter, a cold one too. Nothing seems interesting enough to look at. Window shops seem dull and dark, but that could also just be him.
Once he turns the corner, he stops walking. The store lights are off, and the door is closed. What time is it, anyway? He grabs his phone and checks. It's 02:34 Midnight…, the stores are closed at night. Lying in his apartment, he hadn't even noticed the time flying by. It didn't seem important enough to keep track of.
Now that he's outside, he could take a walk while he's at it. His fingers feel numb as he puts his phone away. Most people would tell you to stay off the streets at night because of the dangers, but Chuuya wouldn't care if a gun was pointed at him; he could handle it.
Walking helps him warm up his body, only for it to freeze right back up. He walks past some stores and shopping streets till coming to a stop at a park. He used to go here with him. He walks deeper into the park, taking a turn at a hidden opening between the trees and coming to a stop at a clearing. One big tree stands in the middle.
They used to hang out here. He remembers clearly how he got talked into balancing an apple on his head as he stood against the tree, and he used it to practice shooting. He still remembers using his ability to stop a bullet a cm from his open eye. The excuse of that bastard was that Chuuya was too distracting to let him focus.
He still remembers the smile on his face once he got mad about it. Chuuya trailed a finger along the old bullet wound in the tree. The second shot had counted, piercing the apple and shooting into the tree. He sighs, the memory seems far away now.
He lets himself slide down the tree, his back against the stem, as he lays his head back. Memories are nothing. They come and go but give you nothing in return for making them. You don't even ask for some of them, but have to live with them. It's only a drag. His fingers start to hurt as the cold starts to take root in his bones. A sign for him to get going.
Standing up, he makes his way out of the park and to the street. The lampposts light up the road in a dim light, some flickering and some not even working at all, leaving dark spots along the road. Chuuya could see his breath in the air before him. He should have worn something warmer. His coat is doing a little job of keeping him warm.
Chuuya grapes for his phone once he feels it vibrating in his pocket. A message from his boss.
[Mori-
The location and time of the mission have been set. Corruption is needed. Head to ###### ## ##### at midnight. Don't be late and don't disappoint us.]
…
Finely. The anticipation and anxiety left him. He knew this was coming. His boss had made him work nonstop for a month and then just gave him the week off; he knew something was going on with his new mission, and this confirmed it.
He was going to give his life to the organization his loyalty lay.
He's suddenly glad he couldn't sleep; it gives him some meaningless moments before it all ends. He knew this day would come, when he gave his loyalty the the Port Mafia he knew he would die in pursuit to fulfill it.
Chuuya checked the time. 05:46 Midnight. He has still some time left, now just what to do with it.
…
He didn't know. He never got into a hobby or anything as he didn't have the time or energy to do it, coming back from work. One time he tried a hobby, Yoga. For some time it did help him relax but turns out he already did enough of that in missions. He never knew he was so agile in the past. It always came to him naturally.
Taking a moment to look at his breath disappearing in the cold night sky. He still had some time. He scrolls through his phone; he doesn't have many contacts. His boss and one chat with subordinates, some with his colleagues, and one with Ane-can. His finger stops on another contact. ‘Mackerel’, he hadn't messaged him for almost 4 years.
Speaking of, Chuuya looks up at the sky, letting some snowflakes fall on his face. The end of this night marks 4 years since the bastard had left. Midnight marks that spot.
He taps on the contact. If he didn't have much time left he may as well say something.
[ | ]
What should he say? He hadn't spoken or had any contact with his ex-partner for so long that he didn't know what to say.
He kept typing and deleting his message; he didn't even know where to start. With a sigh, he puts his phone away and starts walking back to his penthouse. What did he even want to say? ‘Hey idiot, thanks for the 7 useless years of my life, gone die now, by’ That wouldn't sit right even with him.
No, he wants it to be something meaningful, the last thing he does before he dies needs to mean something. Even if it's only something for himself.
Getting to a stop at a bench. Sitting down and grabbing his phone again. 08:56 AM he still had some time to think.
[To the dumbest idiot]
Chuuya huffs. It sounds good enough.
[Times flies before you know it it's already been 4 years since I had to put up with your shitty ass.-]
Assuming the idiot wouldn't see it before 12 or not at all. He writes the message to that thought.
[-I finally got some peace now that you're gone. The bomb wasn't hard to deal with, and a new car and parking space weren't hard to get arranged. Even gotta try out eye contacts in the process. It was a drag at the start, but I got used to it.]
His hand instinctively moves to his eye. 25% of his right eye’s sight had been taken from him in the explosion. It hurt but it's all better now. The contact helps protect the damage but nothing to make him see better.
[It's been so long, and I still see your pesky smile in my head when your name pops up. You're hands on my skin as you comb my hair through your fingers when you thought I was asleep. The time you got a trampoline to reach me when I was mad.
You're a stubborn thorn I can't get rid of even when the presence is no longer there.
What I meant to say is…]
What did he mean? This was just something he himself wanted, but… it felt different. It felt like he was admitting to something he had denied himself his whole life…
It felt…
Good
[…I was never more grateful to have that thorn in my side.]
He hits send before he can change his mind. It's 10:37. It's time for him to go. He didn't have much walking to do anymore; his home was close.
__
It did take some time to get to the place. It was on the outskirts of the city. The sun started to come up, shining on him as he rode through the wind on his motorcycle. He parked at a safe distance. He gave her one last look before walking away. He can feel his phone vibrate.
He looked at the time, 11:35. and crunched his phone in his hand, breaking it. It was probably a message from one of his subordinates anyway.
The walk was not that long, but it did feel like it. The woods gave him the cover of surprise as he snuck into enemy territory. The surfalanse was good, he had to admit, but not good enough to stop him.
His mission was simple: get to the middle of the enemy territory and activate corruption. It was a simple mission, why did it feel so hard to complete suddenly?
Chuuya groans as a blaring alarm fills his ears. They had spotted someone. Properly saw his coat or something out of the ordinary. With a rush of adrenaline, Chuuya begins to run. Using his ability to stop any bullet from getting in too close as he runs straight into enemy territory.
Chuuya started to get close to the middle of the enemy base. He began peeling off his gloves. “O Granters Of Dark Decrease,” he was getting closer, he got to a stop in the middle. “You Need Not Wake Me Again” his vision turns white.
__
It hurts, it hurts so bad. A small boy floats in nothingness, his arms gripping tightly at his body. Red snake-like marks felt alive on his skin. All he could see was black; everything was black. It hurt so bad, it felt like the insides of his body became invaded with acid. The small boy cries and sobs as he drifts into an empty void. His skin is made of the darkest black taint, and his eyes glow red.
The boy wanted it to stop, wanted the burning to go away. His mind was clouded with pain. His nails started to dig into his skin. “Hurts… it hurts,” little mumbles came from the small boy. He wanted nothing more than for the agony to end. For something to end it… or him.
It felt like an eternity of never-ending pain. Hands wrapped around the boy's cheeks, guiding his head up. It felt… nice.
It felt like a cold touch to a hot summer sun, or a warm blanket on a winter night. The boy closed his eyes, letting himself drift into the feeling as his senses disappeared, as a feeling of a protective blanket. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lets himself be taken away.