Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Ow! Don't pull on those so hard!"

The plan was a fail. Total, complete, fail.

Not only did they fail to overtake the shipment like they planned to, but the Port Mafia caught on, resulting in no weapons, no profit, and a bullet in Chuuya's arm.

"Sorry, sorry...my hands are shaking..." Yuan muttered, trying to gentle her grip as she banaged up the injury.

Chuuya sighed, taking the roll of bandages from her and doing it himself.

Shirase paced around the small space of the abandoned house they found shelter in after running away.

"You know, Chuuya, this is your fault..You made way too much noise!"

"Excuse me? Well sorry for trying to save one of our own!" Chuuya argued back, wincing slightly when he moved and brushed his injured arm against the wall behind him. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but one of the younger members fell into the water. We're family, aren't we? And we're not supposed to leave someone to their fate like that."

"Well, I told you that the younger members should stay behind!" Shirase's voice was rising, which made Chuuya's do the same.

"And I told you they're capable, and need to gain experience. Besides, we needed as many hands as we could get!"

"Oh yes, so capable!"

"Guys, please stop arguing, this isn't the time, and—" Yuan was cut up by some noises outside the building, at which everyone fell silent.

Right. Shit, the mafia grunts were probably still looking for them. And as much as Chuuya would love to go out there and give them a piece of his mind, he wasn't stupid. They didn't stand a chance. Not right now, at least. They were uncoordinated, had no plan or resources and didn't even know how many people were looking for them.

The Sheep barely dared to breathe, waiting for the noises to stop.

Luckily, they did.

Chuuya let out a sigh of relief. Thank fuck.

"..."

No one said anything for a while. Not until someone pointed out the time.

"We better get going if we want to eat today. Let's go." Chuuya said, standing up and pulling his sleeve over the reddening bandage on his arm.

After making sure no one was outside, they headed off.

Every few days, (sometimes in a row, if they got lucky.) The Sheep went to a homeless shelter in the outskirts of Yokohama.

There was a Soup Kitchen there. They got free food sometimes, which was nice. There weren't many people working there, so it wasn't always open.

But a warm meal was better than stealing soup cans or chips. Even if it wasn't everyday.

The lady working there- an older woman going by Ms. Yume, recognized them, since they visited often.

She was a nice person, greeting each one with a wrinkly smile.

"Oh dear, are you alright?"

Chuuya blinked, not realising that he was spoken to.

"Huh?" It took him a bit to realise the bullet wound bled through his sleeve. Shit.

"Oh, yea. I'm fine. Just...a big scrape from...a skateboard." He didn't put much effort into the lie. Ms. Yume seemed to have gotten the hint, and didn't pry further, handing him a bowl of warm soup.

The Sheep wasn't picky about food. That was a luxury they couldn't afford. The soup was bland. Basically just water with some tomatoes and carrots and whatever else were those bits floating there...

But it tasted like a five star meal compared to dumpster food or going hungry.

"Chuuya?"

The ginger looked up from his bowl, his eyes landing on Yuan's worried face.

"I'm uhm...a little concerned," She started, her fingers threading through her pink hair - a nervous habit of hers.

"If it's about the Mafia, then It's fine, trust me. I know they..well, became much more of a pain in the ass since the old boss retired. But we're tough! If we survived this long against them, then that old man has nothing on us." Chuuya didn't feel very sure despite his words.

As of recently, a rumor has spread around about the Port Mafia's new boss. Apperently, this one was a sick sadist. It was said he was a better strategist than the previous Boss. More perceptive and shit..

As if they didn't have enough on their hands..

"How do you know it's an old guy?" Asked a younger member of the Sheep - Haru.

Chuuya shrugged, swallowing some soup. "I don't. I'm going off of stereotypes."

"No, that's not what I'm worried about." Yuan said, making Chuuya raise a brow.

"Then what?"

"Well... Don't you think the Mafia knows..too much, as of recently?"

Chuuya put his spoon down, crossing his arms.

"Elaborate?"

"Well, the last three operations were total fails.. which was odd! It was as if the mafia knew when and where to expect us.." Yuan sounded hesistant.

Chuuya hummed, leaning back in his chair. "I see what you're suggesting.."

And he didn't like what she was suggesting.

A traitor.

The thought made his fists ball up. He thought of the Sheep as family.

And the idea that one of them would just..betray them like that, made Chuuya's stomach twist uncomfortably.

Still, on the outside, he only nodded.

"I guess it's not impossible. I'll try to look into it. Now eat, before it gets cold."

Yuan nodded, scooping up a spoonful of the soup. Chuuya did the same. But he lost his appetite.

He ate anyway. Who knew when he would be able to eat something warm again.

They ate in silence as Chuuya pondered the possiblity.

He didn't want to think that way, but Yuan was right.

Normally, a small operation like stealing some supplies from the shipment at the port wasn't that hard.

But as of recently, the mafia started to almost..predict their moves.

They started putting gunmen near their usual, secret passways, near the places they planned to enter and escape through.

Not to mention, the gummen themselves were better trained and equiped..

It's like they knew their plans.

A traitor in the Sheep was the most logical explanation, as unpleasent as it was.

He didn't want to think about it.

***

Winter really set in once it started snowing. A lot.

And unfortunetly, the soup kitchen wasn't open. To be fair, Chuuya was pretty sure Ms. Yume was the only one currently working there, and she lived a good mile away.

So, the Sheep were forced to resort to theft. They never stole more than they needed. Well, at least Chuuya didn't. He wasn't sure about the rest.

Today, they split up, going to different stores in pairs or solo.

Afterall, there was quite a bit of them and they all needed to eat. Petty theft didn't draw as much attention, even if it was done at many places..

Chuuya went alone, putting his hood up and entering a small corner store.

The only person there was a teen behind the cash register, nose buried in a phone.

Chuuya walked into the food isle, picking a few soup cans. Good thing they had pictures on them. Tomato, carrot, mushroom..two of each was enough.

He hid them wherever he could. Under his hood, inside his jacket or even sleeves.

He waited until the cashier got up and left to the break room.

Then he booked it, running out of the store. It didn't have any detectors or anything, so no one would probably notice some soup was gone..

As he escaped, he suddenly colided against a taller person, making him fall with a thud.

The clanck of soup cans hitting the ground was softened by the snow, but it still made Chuuya curse and quickly pick them back up.

"My, my. Are you stocking up for the winter? It's quite icy and slippery, isn't it?" The taller person said in an annoying voice.

Icy and slippery? More like a freak not paying attention to where he was standing like a brick wall!

Chuuya didn't anwser, picking up and hiding his loot. He had a really bad feeling about whoever this was.

He tensed when the person knelt down to his level.

"Though, I suppose I should apologize to you, I was a bit distracted.."

"..'s fine."

"... You're not very talkative, are you?"

Chuuya tensed up for some reason. He could see the stranger right next to him.

He refused to look up.

After getting all of his things, he stood up and turned to leave, hoping the man would just leave him be. He didn't want to start a fight right here.

...It felt even more unsettling when the man actually wasn't following him.

He hoped he wasn't, at least. But the crunch of footsteps on snow would've given it away, right?

He decided to check, glancing back after getting a good bit away.

The man was standing there. Chuuya could see him now. He was tall. No wonder Chuuya bumped into him. Yet, it was weird he didn't notice him.. though, he could probably pin it under being in a hurry...

Yea, that's it.

The man wore a tailored black suit and an overcoat and dress shoes of the same colour. The weird thing was the blood-red scarf and bandages.

He looked out of place on the snowy street. Like a wolf hunting for food during the winter.

The man smiled and waved at Chuuya. It made him tense. How creepy.

He flipped the guy off and picked up the pace.

"What a freak.." Chuuya thought to himself.

Whatever, he probably wouldn't see him ever again..

He hoped so, at least. But his gut churning made him worry about that..

Chapter Text

Dazai's slender fingers tapped against the arm of his chair at the head of the long table in the Port Mafia's meeting room.

It was taking longer than expected, (Probably because Ace had to throw a fit over something..) but that's fair. Not everyone got used to the fact Mori stepped down and now Dazai was the big bad boss now.

And yet, this meeting was important. Like all the rest.

Dazai sighed. This wasn't going anywhere.

He abrubtly stood up, drawing the attention of his subordinates.

"Excuse me. I must take my leave."

Kouyou shook her head silently. She never approved of him randomly leaving the meetings. Actually, he was pretty sure she didn't like him, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥.

Regardless of how she felt, now she worked under him.

"Dazai, Sir, are you quite sure you cannot stay for this meeting? It's quite important." Hirotsu insisted.

"Afraid so." Dazai anwsered. Hirotsu always got the shorter end of the stick, ever since Dazai took over. And of course, that meant taking care of Dazai's problems.

"Gin, make a report from this meeting and deliver it to my office." He ordered his assistant without sparing her a glance, before leaving the room.

The moment he shut the door behind him, he groaned, rubbing at the bandaged part of his face.

What a bother. Being a leader was so annoying.

Instead of heading straight to his office to get drunk and 𝘯𝘰𝘵 do his work, Dazai made his way to the elevator.

The people in the small space visibly tensed when the Boss entered. Good. Dazai 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 the power that came with the status.

He got off at the 28th floor, heading to his destination. The infirmary.

He entered without knocking, the familiar scent of sanitizer and medicine hitting him.

"Hello, Mr. Dazai." Elise's voice was the first to greet him. A young girl, who helped her father around in here.

He gave her a nod in greeting. Speaking of her father...

"Mori, are you in here?"

Without waiting for an anwser, Dazai stepped behind the curtain that seperated the infirmary from the operation room.

Call it weird, but it did make the sick and slightly injured get better faster. Who knew screams of pain right next to you while being bedridden made people get better?

Mori was there, as expected. The older man merely blinked at Dazai, before turning back to the open-stomach surgery he was performing.

"Ah, Hello there, Dazai. How may I help you?"

"Yes, hello. I just needed an excuse to get out of my meeting." It wasn't techically a lie. "Might I ask who you're operating on?"

Dazai had a bit of medical knowledge that Mori himself taught him. He could clearly see he was removing ribs.

"Ah, just a hostage who wouldn't talk, I suppose," The man sighed as his scalpel made a small cut in his subject's liver. "Elise, dear, pass me tracker, would you?"

Most people would probably want their child to stay away from crime as much as possible.

But Mori was a strange parent. A strange person.

I mean, which Mafia Boss would pass it down during its golden age, only to become a doctor for the very same organisation?

Mori would. And he did. Because he didn't 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 the golden age to end. And Dazai was the perfect cadidate to carry that on.

The younger man watched as Elise carried a tray to her father. He remembered her, from when Mori was still the Boss and she was a kid.

Sometimes he'd see her hanging around in the older man's office, drawing or playing with dolls. Now a few years have passed, and Elise grew into a young lady. A young lady whose father wanted to involve her in the criminal life.

Alas, that was Mori's business.

"I suppose I just wanted to check up on the old man." Dazai murmured, watching as Mori sewed the man shut again after putting a tracker device in him. "I guess I should get going.."

"Ah, well, it was nice seeing you."

Every now and then, Dazai visited Mori. To...clear his mind.

***

The elevator reached the 100th floor and Dazai stepped out into his large office. The report he requested was already on his desk.

Good, he thought. Gin was reliable.

With a hum, he flipped through the pages, sighing.

Just this week, seventeen attempts at his (Aka; The Port Mafia's) head were made.

He knew, of course. There was a reason he was Boss.

Snipers on roofs, stalkers with knives or bombs planted on his car (A neat idea, Dazai had to admit, might use it).

The reason he hadn't intervened himself, was mostly because the groups had been minor. Small. Therefore, a perfect practice target for new recruits.

But one of them...

Dazai's grip on the paper tightened ever-so-slightly as he read a particular name on the list.

The Decay of Angels.

Led by a rat, Fyodor Dostoyevski.

That particular man was a pain in the ass, even before Dazai took over the Mafia.

He reminded Dazai of...well, himself. Perceptive, cunning...and very annoying. Not that he and Dazai shared 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 particular trait...

"He's more of a cockroach than a rat..." Dazai murmured, closing the files and setting it down on his expensive, dark wood desk.

"Perhaps Mori had some books on how to get rid of cockroaches." Dazai thought as he walked over to the wall covered in bookshelves, each of which was stocked up full of old tomes.

Sometimes, Dazai liked to read. To lose himself in the old pages...

Maybe he could—

"Hm?"

A sound caught his attention. Something from the bookshelf fell, but it sounded too light to be a book. Not one Mori would've kept here, at least.

Looking down, Dazai saw a file he didn't recognize.

"How curious.." Perhaps fate decided to help him?

The big, bold, red letters on the front didn't help to deter him from opening it.

'CLASSIFIED'

It said. How lovely.

The papers that were inside of it were old. Some even burned a bit.

"Project Arahabaki?" That rang a bell. One Dazai couldn't put his finger on.

As he read, his curiousity grew. Gods, subjects, labs and power..

And...

𝘕𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘊𝘩𝘶𝘶𝘺𝘢.

That name was the only one mentioned in the documents, along with 'Prototype A-258'.

To make a long story short, the Japanese goverment found a cult that worshipped some deity. One that was apperently trapped in some sort of object, that the goverment extracted it from.

Why?

To merge it with a human. To make an ultimate weapon, half-man and half-god...

And merge it they did.

"Nakahara...Where have I heard that before?" Dazai murmured, holding the burnt piece of paper in his hand as he paced the room. The particular paper with the subject's information was especially burned, leaving no more than the name and a general description.

Then Dazai paused by his desk, where the meeting report from ealier were.

He gasped. Of course!

He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

The Sheep.

One of the minor gangs that attacked them recently. Well, tried to.

And there, among the names and photos of the members provided, (by Gin. Thankfully, she was detailed in her reports.) was a perfect match.

Dazai picked up the picture. Quite a pretty face, he had to admit. All soft angles and long locks. A pity, to waste all that on a gangster.

Alas, That's not Dazai's focus. The man matched the description. It wouldn't hurt to try and obtain him. If that's not him, Dazai would get rid of an annoying little group. And if it was, he'd get a possiblity nuclear (Perhaps more than that) weapon.

A win-win, really.

For Dazai, at least.

With a grin, Dazai picked up his phone and picked a number.

He just had an idea...

"Hello?"

Chapter Text

Waking up was a pain. Especially with the sun shining right on Chuuya's face, as if it wanted him to suffer. Which, knowing his luck, it probably did.

But being unproductive was a luxury. So, as much as it annoyed him, he forced his eyes to open, covering his face with his hand so the sun wouldn't blind him.

They managed to find a place to sleep in- An old, abandoned house. It had a giant hole in the wall, since it was supposed to be demolished. But mysteriously, someone scared the workers off. They put up a curtain over the hole. It wasn't the best place to sleep at, but it was better than nothing, and it didn't have any mold or anything, so that was a plus.

"Good morning." Yuan greeted him, sitting on a crate and sipping from a can of soda.

"Yea, Hey..Where's Shirase?"

"He went out. Found something interesting, apperently." She crushed the can when it was empty. "He'll be back soon."

"Uh-huh.."

Shirase wasn't the curious type. The 'interesting' thing he apperently found was probably a way to get laid or free alcohol.

Regardless, he wasn't stupid enough to do anything that would harm the Sheep, so Chuuya didn't need to worry.

....

Hopefully.

Before Chuuya could second-guess his trust in Shirase's sense of responsibility, he returned.

"Welcome back," Chuuya greeted, leaning against the crate Yuan sat on. "Did ya get drunk or laid?"

"..Huh?" Odd. Shirase seemed a bit..dazed? Disoriented? Whatever it was, it made Chuuya raise a brow.

He seemed to have realised he acted differently from usual, so he forced himself to scoff. "Ha! Yea. You should be jealous, I partied sooo good!"

Chuuya glanced up at Yuan, who just shrugged. No need to pry into his behavior. Even members of a close-knit group like them needed privacy sometimes, they weren't obligated to share every little detail. Shirase always yapped about how they were family, so betrayal from him was next to impossible!

...

Still... Chuuya remembered what he and Yuan spoke of the other day. A traitor. Thinking back on that conversation, Shirase looked kind of..nervous.

Chuuya's brows furrowed as he continued to think it through...As of recently, Shirase has been leaving without telling anyone more and more. And as much as Chuuya didn't want to think that....

No.

He shook his head. What was wrong with him? God, he felt stupid! Shirase was family. He wouldn't do that. He took Chuuya in when nobody else would. So he wouldn't - he couldn't–

"Chuuya?"

Yuan's voice broke him out of thought. Again. He really needed to stop zoning out like that..

"Yea, yea, I'm good." He waved a dismissive hand at her. "Just thinking 'bout something."

He banished such thoughts from his head. Even as his brain didn't miss the way Shirase's eyes narrowed at his prolonged silence.

"Uh, Hey guys..?" A member's voice broke through the tense atmosphere.

"Yea?"

"Do we have any medication..?" The member meekly asked. The three looked at each other, suspicions forgotten for now.

"Uh.. Depends? What for?"

***

"You WHAT?!"

The sight of a girl violently vomiting wasn't the nicest sight or smell to be near at..probably around 5:30 in the morning.

"Uhm..Well..." The member shrank down at Chuuya's angry voice. "We were hungry and–"

"And you decided to eat a fucking rat instead of doing anything fucking else?" Chuuya didn't like getting angry. Especially not at family. But sometimes he just..

"That's disgusting..! We're homeless, not primitive..!" Yuan said, wrinkling her nose at the scent.

Chuuya felt a sudden, sharp pain in his head and chest, forcing him to lean against a wall. The others looked at him with worry until he gave them the thumbs up. That was also a reason he didn't like being angry. It made him feel...weird.

After managing to calm down (and heavily scolding the two members), it was time to actually do something about the poor (and foolish), sick girl.

"I'm pretty sure we do have medicine left from the last time someone got sick.." Chuuya murmured, reaching out to look through their supplies. A hand on his wrist stopped him. Shirase's hand.

"Actually," He started, moving Chuuya's hand away from the stash. "I forgot to tell you guys, but I found a great shortcut to a nearby pharmacy!"

"Is this really the best time? Especially since we have what we need.." Yuan tilted her head. She was suspicious too, Chuuya could tell.

"Look, Yuan–" Shirase crossed his arms, clicking his tounge. "I'm 99% percent sure that last time I checked, they were all expired."

"But we only got them–"

"Yeah, but they were going to throw it away! Right before we took it. That's the reason, it was about to expire. Simple, really."

When he said it like that, it made Yuan feel stupid, even when she knew she wasn't being ridiculous.

"How do you know that?"

"Ugh, Yuan, why are you–"

The sound of throwing up broke their little argument apart.

"...Fine." Yuan muttered, probably because she didn't want to be near the rancid smell of fresh vomit.

"See? Was that so hard?" Shirase rolled his eyes, as if Yuan's questions had been unjustified and childish. "Anyway. Chuuya, You coming with?"

"I guess."

***

The 'shortcut' Shirase spoke of didn't seem shorter at all. In fact, it seemed longer than the usual path to Yokohama.

"Are we even going the right way?"

"Yea, yea, but listen–" Chuuya didn't like how quickly Shirase dismissed him. "..So uh. Why are you so against teaming up with the GSS?"

Chuuya blinked. "What?"

"I mean-! Think about it! They could really back us up! And then, the Sheep could expand its territory, and we'd strike fear into all those other–"

"Shirase, are you hearing yourself?"

"..."

"The GSS are sell-outs. They'd bark like dogs for anyone who has a fat wallet. Even if we secured an alliance with them, we could never truly trust them. They'd stab us in the back the moment a better offer comes along." Chuuya studied Shirase's blank stare for a second, his eyes narrowing.

"Besides, it's not gain and profit we're after. It's safety, isn't it?"

They walked in silence for a while longer, before Shirase scoffed.

"I see how it is. You want to hold the Sheep back because of your own fear, don't you?"

Chuuya stopped. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah. You heard me. Haven't you heard what they call you around? The King of the Sheep. You like that. It's true, isn't it? You like being seen as the best, as the person in control."

"Shirase, what the fuck are you on about?! I–"

"Don't even try to deny it. You think you're so much better than the Sheep? Than me?! Isn't it ironic? You see as worse, despite the fact we took you in! I was the one who took you in! You haven't even been here as long as me!"

Was he... jealous?

"Shirase, shut up for a second and let me speak! I never said any of that shit! You better than anyone should know that the Sheep work as a group, we have no leader–"

"Stop it with your sappy bullshit! You're not fooling anyone with that, Mr. King of the Sheep!"

"Quit it! I'm telling you, I—"

Sob...

Sob...

Both of them quieted down. Chuuya did, at least. Shirase rolled his eyes.

"Did you hear that?"

"Oh, sure, just- stray from the conversation, won't you?"

Chuuya didn't comment on that, merely spending him a glare. Instead, he tracked down the source of the sound- an alleyway.

Peeking in, Chuuya's eyes widened, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

A small child.

...

It was just a kid. Why did it make him so uncomfortable?

It's not like he hadn't seen homeless kids before. But this one was..

Chuuya shifted uncomfortably when the child looked up at him. Their eyes were..weird. Was that a star pupil? Their hair was split, too.

And yet, it wasn't their appearance that made him so uneasy...

"Hey, are you all alone?" Shirase kneeled down to the child.

The kid, (Chuuya couldn't honestly tell if it was a girl or a boy. Not that it mattered..)sniffled and turned to Shirase. Despite that, Chuuya still felt their gaze on him.

"Chuuya," Shirase stood up. "You just mentioned how the Sheep is all about safety and shit." He didn't like where this was going. "I think we should help this little one out."

"Are you serious?"

What was wrong with him? Just picking up a creepy brat after an argument? It just felt... suspicious, all things considered.

"What? You were like this, too. Did you forget already?" Shirase's tone made Chuuya both tense and annoyed.

"What– no. Just.." Chuuya narrowed his eyes at the sniffling child. It seemed fake. It all seemed scripted. Too...convinent.

Chuuya sighed, grabbing onto Shirase's sleeve and moving him away from the suspicious stranger.

"Don't you think we shouldn't just.." Chuuya trailed off.

"What, take 'strays' in? We took you in. Why should this kid get a different treatment?" Shirase spoke as if it was the most obvious thing ever. Maybe it was. Maybe Chuuya was just being weird.

"Not what I mean. Why are you so eager to take them with us..?"

"I'm just trying to help. Do only you get to he kind?"

"Why do you keep talking like that? What's gotten into you?"

"Okay, Chuuya—" Shirase placed a hand on Chuuya's shoulder. What usually would've been a comforting gesture from a friend, now made Chuuya feel tense. He felt tense often lately.. "How about this- we take the child back to base, and we have a vote. Okay?"

The child was no longer crying. They were silent. Just...staring. But Shirase wasn't backing down, for whatever reason. It was a bit odd, how persistant he was on this.

Chuuya didn't want to argue with him anymore. He was tired. With a sigh, he rubbed his temples. "...Fine. But I'm telling you, the kid gives me the creeps."

Shirase dismissed his worries, taking the kid with them on their way back.

...

Chuuya lost the vote.