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The short ginger raced down the streets of Yokohama, his wheels leaving skid marks as he flew round corners. The stars twinkled in the ink black sky, unnoticed to the teen, whom was too busy exerting his anger into speed.
“Kindly shoo! The humans are speaking, you wouldn’t understand.” rang through his head. Those words, coming from his partner hurt like hell brought him back to reality. Just because he called the brunette ‘Mori’s little toy’.
Did he really hit that bad a sore spot?
‘Who the hell did this idiot think he was?’ Chuuya revved his engine quicker, his ability threatening to activate and destroy his bike handle if he wasn’t careful. However, Chuuya, being so blinded by rage and anger to the taller, lankier bandaged boy, failed to notice a man crossing the road. The man wore a grey scarf which hung round his neck loosely, accompanied with black,baggy clothes and yellow and black goggles. His hair was shoulder-length and well-maintained, however the stubble on his chin could say otherwise.
Chuuya yelled, noticing the man just before he was about to crash into him “WATCH OUT!”
and swerved, crashing into a multi-story building instead, smacking his head on concrete, causing unconsciousness to the teen and a to-do, much to the tired man’s displeasure.
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*beep* *beep *beep*
The smell of sterile and disinfectant hit Chuuya like a brick. The steady beep on the heart monitor rang in his ears and the scratchy material on his skin brought him a discomfort only hospitals could grant. Which confused Chuuya, as he and Dazai had always relied on the other to never let them end up in a hospital, no matter how dire the situation.
This meant that it hadn't been Dazai who had found Chuuya, but someone else, someone who didn’t know who he was and who he was made to work worked for. Someone-
Chuuya noticed the tube sticking into his arm. It made him feel sick, it brought back not the memories, but the emotions. He tugged at the tube, trying to rip it out his arm frantically, panicking slightly. Chuuya didn’t like hospitals.
The door opened and a tired-looking man entered followed by another man who had managed to get his blond hair to stand up mostly straight on his head entered the room. ‘What the fuck were they wearing?’ Chuuya didn’t know how to feel, apart from being disgusted by their lack of fashion taste. They looked like those cringey heroes you see in comic books, what did they think he was a really small kid or something? Their outfits were ridiculous!
“Kid calm down, that’s an IV drip, you’re fine.” The tired-looking man, who Chuuya recognized as the guy he nearly hit, was frowning.
“Little listener! Glad to see you’re awake!” The blond with the interesting hairstyle pumped his fists energetically, making the other sigh and rub his temple.
“Who the fuck are you two?” The ginger spat, a red glow bathing him slightly. He hated hospitals, and annoying people, and this loud blonde certainly wasn’t helping his Arahabaki-induced headache.
The two men were seemingly unaffected by the younger’s foul language and anger, keeping a calm (or unbothered, energetic) composure.
“Kid, you’re safe.” The homeless looking man sighed, rubbing his temple, and the more energetic one grinned.
“Little Listener! D’you like music?!” His voice was ridiculously loud, and increased Chuuya’s headache by tenfold.
‘Jeez, this moron is so loud he needs a hearing aid for his ears.’ Chuuya thought, glancing at the hearing devices the man was wearing.
“ ‘Zashi, how many times do I need to tell you your voice is a weapon.” The tired man’s eye was twitching with annoyance, but the louder one was oblivious, grinning like a little child who had opened a Christmas present they had really wanted.
“C’mon Sho! He doesn’t mind, do you kid?” He grinned energetically, it was reminding Chuuya too much of Dazai. Dazai. The teen missed him wanted to know that Dazai could handle his missions by himself. Dazai wasn’t one for battle, but could defend himself if necessary. Not that Chuuya was worried of course. No, that wasn’t it.
“Kid?” The hobo man peered at the ginger, frowning. “You ok there?”
Chuuya blinked. He’d zoned out. “M’fine” he muttered and the blond smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry about the volume Little Listener! Sho just informed me you probably have a headache from your concussion!” The moron started rambling on again and Chuuya went back to thinking.
‘I was riding my bike, saw the tired man, swerved and ended up here. Wait my bike-‘
“Where’s my bike?!” Chuuya shot up, wincing slightly and the two older men looked surprised at the sudden movement, before relaxing.
“Calm down kid, your bike is in storage.” The ravenette sighed, and folded his arms, leaning against the doorway.
“Well give it back and I’ll be on my way!” Chuuya grinned what he hoped was a reassuring one and the blonde frowned, looking at the ravenette.
“Kid, how old are you?” The old man sighed, Chuuya was pretty sure he’d get gray hair before he was 40, if he wasn’t already.
“16. What’s that got to do with anything though?” Chuuya frowned. Why can’t they just mind their business like everyone else in Yokohama- wait this isn’t the Yokohama Hospital.
“Where the hell am I?!” Chuuya growled. Not only was he not in the Yokohama Hospital, he was in a foreign one.
“Welllll Little Listener~!” The blonde grinned, dragging out the word well, “You’re in Musutafu!” He said it like it was the most well-known city in Japan, although mind you, it could have been for all Chuuya knew, since Yokohama didn’t have much of any connection with the outside world at all.
Chuuya’s confusion must have shown on his face because the blond’s grin faltered slightly.
“Y’know, Musutafu?” He said it again again, looking a bit puzzled, still wearing a smile on his face.
The old-looking man sighed. “Listen kid, you’re not getting your bike back until you are at the legal age to drive it, and you’re not in Yokohama anymore, but you’ve probably already sussed that out.” Chuuya glared at the scratchy hospital sheets. Albatross had given him that bike in his last moments, and he wasn’t about to lose it to some men in ridiculous outfits!
“That bike was a gift. It’s very important to me, so fucking give it back old man” Chuuya spat angrily, getting out of the hospital bed, the uncomfortable tube still in his arm. He activated his ability, getting into a fighting stance, body tense and the ravenette tensed.
“Kid, calm down. You’ll get it back in the future.” He tried to calm Chuuya down.
“Give. Me. My. Fucking. BIKE!” He launched himself at the man yelling angrily. The blond quickly grabbed his arms and pinned them behind Chuuya’s back, and the ravenette activated his, wait, what the hell did he just do? He hasn’t got an ability, abilities look different.
“The hell did you just do to me?” Chuuya snarled.
“If he gives you your bike back, he’s letting you break the law Little Listener!” The loud man smiled warily.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME? GIVE ME MY ABILITY BACK!” Chuuya thrashed about, yelling incoherently, and a nurse rushed in with a syringe.
“Don’t inject me with that shit!” Chuuya recoiled as the nurse advanced towards him, fear washing over him like a wave.
“Get away from me! No! Stop it!” Chuuya struggled, trying to get away as she stood in front of Chuuya with a pitying look.
“Don..” Chuuya slumped in the blond man’s arms, the drug knocking him out.
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Aizawa frowned at the kid who was now back on the bed, having been knocked out with Propofol.
He seemed really attached to the bike, maybe a passed away family member or something had given it to him? But how could he lose someone at age 16? He did live in Yokohama, so maybe that explains it?
“Sho, I can hear you worrying from here” Hizashi joked, wrapping his arm around his husband’s waist.
“It’s just.. the whole situation is weird.” Shouta sighed, dipping his head into his husband’s shoulder.
“He does come from Yokohama” Hizashi said.
“But that doesn’t explain it all ‘Zashi! How did he get that..code on the back of his neck? How’s he got those faint scars that trail over his body like a pattern? How has he got all those other scars?! We can’t just blame it all on Yokohama!” Shouta said, exasperated. He was fed up with the Yokohaman rumors, or, lack of. Since it was closed off from the rest of Japan, everyone had assumed it was a quirkless, villain-run city. But, there has to be more to it than that.
Shouta felt something vibrate in his pocket, and reached for it, thinking it’s his phone, before realising with a jolt it was the kid’s. Hizashi raises an eyebrow.
“Are you gonna answer that Sho? What if it’s the police department?” Shouta hurriedly nods, and steps outside the room, looking at the Caller ID on the kid’s phone. Ane-san. He’s got a sister? Shouta picked up the phone and a woman hurriedly started talking.
“Lad, it’s bad, the doctor has declared you to be shot on sight, and Osamu’s in horrific shape, it’s not good. Tell me you’re still in Yokohama so we can convince him that you’re not a traitor. Lad, please. Osamu’s taking your punishment, the poor boy.”
Shouta quietly sighed and the woman’s tone changed.
“Who are you and what have you done with my ward?” She snarls, angry and her voice full of venom. Shouta hurriedly hung up the phone, shocked, and thrust it back in his pocket. ‘Who was that? And who’s Osamu? Shot on sight? Traitor?’ So many thoughts rung through Shouta’s head and the nurse tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“Mr Aizawa? The boy is awake again, shall we sedate him?” She says gently and Shouta shakes his head.
“No, I need to ask him some questions” Shouta frowned, and walked into the room, Hizashi had already left to go and pick Shinsou and Eri up from Nemuri’s.
“Right kid, I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer truthfully okay?” Shouta folds his arms and leans against the doorframe again.
“Why would I do that?” The kid is sitting up, folding his arms too.
“Because..your Ane-san sounds worried.” Shouta looks at the kid, and he’s hit it right on the money. If Shouta wanted the kid to tell him things, he certainly went the right way about it.
“Worried about what?” The kid is frowning, looking concerned.
“I’ll be asking the questions, and if I deem that you’ve been telling the truth, I’ll answer some of yours at the end.” Shouta smiles slightly, he would answer the kid’s questions anyway, it was all a logical ruse.
A:“What’s your name kid?”
C:“Nakahara Chuuya”
A:”Relatives?”
C:”...none”
A:”But that lady on the phone is called Ane-san?”
C:”She’s like a sister to me.”
A:”Who’s ‘the doctor’?”
C:”..I can’t say”
A:”Okay then, what’s this about being a traitor?”
C:”I work in a strict organisation, we don’t do traitors”
A:”And what’s this about an order for you to be shot on sight?”
C:”That’s what happens to traitors, no loose ends in my line of work”
A:”You’re 16.”
C:”Yeah?”
A:”Who’s Osamu?”
C:”What’s that damn fish got to do with anything?”
A:”He's your friend?”
C:”Please. As if.”
A:”Well. He seems to be taking a ‘punishment’ in your place. Any clue what that is? Your ‘ane-san’ seems worried about him.”
C:”What are you rambling about, that fish would never.”
A:”She said Osamu was in ‘horrific shape’ and ‘it wasn’t good’”
C:”I need to get back to Yokohama. Now.”
A:”If you’re unsafe, which I suspect you are, you will be doing no such thing.”
C:”If it’s what I think it is, Osamu isn’t safe, and he’s more important.”
Aizawa was quiet for a while, thinking.
“Sorry kid, if you want to help your friend, you’re going to have to tell us more information.” Aizawa sighed, if this ‘Osamu’ guy was in danger, the least he could do was protect Nakahara.
The kid leaned back in the hospital bed sighing.
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This guy was an absolute joke. Who knows what could have happened to shitty Dazai.
“Listen old man, I’m going to protect my friend, or at least stop him and you sure as hell can’t-” Chuuya stopped, looking at the arm the tired-looking man extended. It was a phone, not his, but a phone none-the-less.
Chuuya took it, shooting a look at the man, before tapping Dazai’s number into the keypad. It rang once, twice, three times, before it picked up.
“Dazai?!” Chuuya gripped the phone tight, his knuckles white. “What’s happened?!”
The other end of the phone was quiet, apart from raspy breathing, and the phone was on loud speaker so as to hear every detail, he didn’t give a damn about the tired guy in the room with him.
__________________________________
“Chibi..?” The person’s voice on the other end of the phone was strained, and muffled.
“Yes, Osamu, what happened?!” Nakahara’s voice was desperate, the look on his face one of despair.
Aizawa frowned. This ‘Osamu’ kid didn’t sound very well, was he ill?
“M-Mori..shit i need to go-” Scuffling could be heard on the other end of the phone and the ginger teen gripped the phone tightly.
“ ‘Samu! Wait, what did the boss do?!” The phone beeped, showing it had hung up. Nakahara exhaled shakily and cursed under his breath. The older one pretended not to notice.
He approached the ginger, his face collected with a hint of worry.
“Kid..” Aizawa stopped advancing towards Nakahara, who glared at Aizawa with a look that, if it could, would kill.
Nakahara ripped out the IV, standing up. He tugged on his black leather jacket, and his gloves and hat.
Aizawa sighed in defeat “You can go, but I am coming with you.” Nakahara grunted, and the tired man went to his car, signalling for the ginger to get in.
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I’d like to apologise to these users and dedicate this chapter to:
Vayvay
Miiko_o
chuuyaautism
Karl_Hates_Powdered_Donuts
mizucocaine
Arandom73
Spooki<:3
chrollos_foreheadcross