Chapter Text
A short man emerged from the Port Mafia’s headquarters. He had bright orange hair that cascaded below his shoulders, and a black, buttoned up suit that signaled his significant part in the mafia. He was often brazen and confident, but today his demeanor was completely different. His sharp, blue eyes widened in rare horror as he saw that the figure he once called his boss was near unrecognizable. The concrete he had been walking on was stained a deep crimson from his boss’s blood, with bandages unraveled and strewn across the corpse in a messy arrangement. Thank god the body was turned over…for his other side was most likely in even worse condition than his backside, and Chuuya wasn’t quite sure if he could bear seeing that.
With a small, shaky sigh, Chuuya crouched down beside Dazai’s lifeless form and gently held Dazai’s hand in his gloved one, before swiftly releasing it. “He’s gone…” Chuuya murmured softly to himself–a pained smile playing on his face, “he actually succeeded, and now he’s dead, forever.” Chuuya wasn’t sure what to feel: relief, devastation, anger, happiness, remorse–he was absolutely conflicted. In actuality, he should be laughing at how his boss had made things 10 times easier for him, and be sighing in relief that he could smoothly take over his position due to being the second highest ranked member in the mafia. However, instead of feeling anything positive, he had been trembling and in a state of absolute confusion. Though, when one of the mafia men asked him something, Chuuya snapped out of his trance.
“Hey, Nakaha–I mean, boss, sir, what should we do with Dazai’s corpse.”
Chuuya paused, before firmly commanding, “Clean it up and burn it in the incinerator.”
“But, boss, we typically bury the bodies of-”
“Shut up…just, burn it,” Chuuya spat with barely concealed anger at the man’s questioning. Fearfully, the men began to pick up Dazai by the limbs - the ones that still happened to be connected - and dragged him cruelly away from where he had originally landed. Chuuya discretely covered his eyes, as he refused to gaze as his previous boss was removed from the scene in a bloody, inhumane way.
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An hour after the mafia had confirmed Dazai’s death, one of the mafia’s secretaries, Akutagawa Gin, decided to declare Chuuya’s new status as the Port Mafia’s boss. There had been mixed opinions about someone as temperamental as Chuuya going into the position, but no one objected. Once the announcement had been completed, Chuuya stormed urgently off stage.
Gin strode beside him, as she held a stack of documents including all of the tasks Dazai had left behind.
“Chuuya, sir…I insist that you take a look at some of these before setting out to do whatever you may be planning.” Gin’s voice was gentle yet assertive as she tried to indirectly guide Chuuya’s next moves as the mafia’s new leader.
Chuuya gazed at Gin slightly through his peripheral vision, before shaking his head in rejection, “I’m sure someone can deal with whatever shitty paperwork you have, I have other matters that are more fucking important.” Chuuya’s tone was biting and cruel, but right now, he didn’t care.
“Understood…boss,” Gin muttered the words begrudgingly, but during her time in the mafia, Gin had done a lot of things she was generally against. Thus, accepting something such as this was what she had grown accustomed to.
Gin then broke off from the walking path to enter her own office–leaving Chuuya alone. Chuuya sighed in relief as Gin departed…a rare instance he truly wanted time to himself. He subconsciously pulled at his choker, which now felt suffocating, and fidgeted with his coat, which had become awfully heavy. Ever since Dazai’s death, everything had begun to darken and weigh on him. But he wouldn’t dwell on these crappy feelings, no, he’d just do what he always did whenever anything felt like too much…
He’d drink however many glasses of alcohol it’d take to make emotions in themselves seem foreign. Hell, it usually didn’t take many anyways.
In a flash, he was in Lupin along with Kajii and Hirotsu. They both had expected him to get wine, as he would usually order, but Chuuya had surprised them.
“One shot of whiskey, please,” Chuuya ordered sullenly, his gaze averting from the bartender to his gloves. His expression seemed empty, but his thoughts were most certainly the opposite. He was regretful, he was upset, he was pleased, he was…furious, but not at Dazai…no…
He was furious at himself. Chuuya Nakahara: Dazai’s trusted bodyguard, the greatly feared "Gravity Manipulator," had allowed his boss to die from something as simple as a suicidal fall. Ironic how the very force he was supposed to be able to control had been the same one that had caused his boss’ death. It was all because of him…it was all his fault.
Chuuya gave the glass a small swig before downing it, a bitter smile playing on his face at the distinct flavor. It tasted both sweet and smokey, but overall went down smoothly. It was a mixture of sensations and tastes he truly found revolting, yet in a way, it was strangely appealing and addicting. It made perfect sense that the stupid mackerel had always drinken this crap.
“Whiskey, eh? That’s different,” Kajii noted with a small chuckle, as he tried to cheer Chuuya up.
“Yeah…” Chuuya responded carelessly, before signaling the bartender over once more, “Another glass.”
Hirotsu raised an eyebrow at Chuuya, before suggesting calmly, “I know the boss’ absence and this new promotion must be overwhelming, but, maybe take it easy on the alcohol.”
“Fuck it,” Chuuya replied brashly, as he raised his newly filled glass in the air, before spitefully drinking the entirety of it, “another,” he ordered with a wry smile, as he felt the alcohol’s effects begin to kick in. Hirotsu sighed in disapproval, before taking a gentle sip from his own glass.
Chuuya proceeded to down glass after glass of the whiskey, until Kajii extended his hand and swiped Chuuya’s glass away from him. Despite Kajii being frequently flamboyant and explosive - in the literal sense - he still cared, and he knew when enough was enough. “I think that’s enough, Chuuya,” he held the glass carefully, as he tried to reason with Chuuya’s overly drunk state.
Chuuya slammed the bar table in frustration, but he didn’t make any move to hurt Kajii, “I’m the damn boss of the Port Mafia, I drink when I want and however much I want!” Chuuya exclaimed angrily, before clumsily swiping at the glass. Although, Kajii made sure to keep his grip firm, as he easily avoided Chuuya’s movements. He attempted to get the glass back a few more times, before finally making a small, pained sneer, and muttering remorsefully, “The damn boss could kill himself, so why is it such a fucking big deal if I just drown myself away in booze? This is so fucking stupid…so stupid, so damn…” Chuuya’s breath hitched slightly as he began his incomprehensible rant, but the sheer amount of alcohol he had consumed swiftly put him unconscious instead.
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The following day, Chuuya had woken up in a bare futon along with his clothes that wreaked of an ungodly amount of whiskey. He had gotten drunk, most certainly, but everything else was an absolute blur…he couldn’t tell if last night he had been crying in anguish, in laughter, in sadness, in anger…or even in something else entirely. All he knew is that it had something to do with Dazai, despite how he had tried to burn his thoughts of the damn bastard away just like how they had burned his body. Swiftly, Chuuya sat up, put on the hat his subordinates had laid beside the futon, and clenched at his sheets with a newfound determination. Maybe it had been too late to save his boss, but it wasn’t too late to try and figure out why the damn enigma had decided to commit in the first place. Dazai himself hadn’t told Chuuya his reasons - he never told him much of anything - but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t find them.
After Chuuya had carelessly combed through his hair and had straightened his suit, he opened the exiting door with a resounding thud that alarmed the rest of the subordinates sharply.
“I’m going,” Chuuya stated with an ominous sneer. All the mafia members looked utterly against the idea of their new boss simply leaving right after his promotion, but none of them truly acted against it.
Well, none of them except Atsushi: one of the executives who had grown especially close to Dazai. Chuuya had always thought the boy was too informal to the boss, but Dazai himself didn’t seem to mind, so he let it pass. The boy wore a long black trench coat with fur all across the top–a stark contrast to his bright, segmental heterochromatic eyes that resembled that of a white tiger. Atsushi was quite young to be an executive, but most definitely worthy. He had been known in the mafia for being ruthless and efficient on the battlefield–so much so that he eventually earned himself the title “White Reaper.” Strangely enough, despite the connection he and the boss had shared, he seemed mostly unphased by his death…it was almost as if he already knew it would happen.
As composed as always, Atsushi questioned Chuuya calmly, “For what?”
Chuuya narrowed his eyes at the executive’s questioning and replied back harshly, “It’s none of your fucking business, Nakajima.”
Atsushi seemed undeterred by his reply, however, and simply retorted, “Yes it is. In fact, it’s everyone here’s business,” he made a small gesture to the rest of the mafia members with his gloved hand, before loosely letting it rest at his side once more, “We’re lower ranks than you now, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all part of the same organization. You’re our leader, thus, we’ll need to know what your next task is in order to potentially provide our assistance.”
Chuuya scoffed at Atsushi’s words and gripped him firmly by his coat collar, before responding back unsettlingly softly, “A lot of words from a pussycat, eh..and ones with little relevancy at that.” Chuuya released Atsushi’s coat with a rough shove–ruffling Atsushi’s bangs slightly, before stepping back himself, “But if you so insist, I’m going to look for…Dazai.”
“Dazai-san is dead.”
“Why he is though, isn’t.”
Atsushi’s eyes flashed with a sudden defensiveness and anger at the topic, before biting back darkly, “That doesn’t matter. He’s dead, he’s gone, and there’s nothing more to say or do about it.”
Chuuya smirked in irritation at Atsushi’s statement, “Yes, there is. If the damn bastard is going to leave me without any answer on why he even died, I’ll have to dig it up myself.” Chuuya kicked Atsushi to the ground brutally, causing the younger executive to wince in pain. He knew he was being harsh to the boy…but he wouldn’t let anything get in his way. With an intimidating smile, Chuuya crouched down beside Atsushi and declared firmly, “My duties at this organization can wait until I find out why Dazai committed. If anyone gets in my way, you may share the same fate as the old boss.” Chuuya stood up and addressed the rest of the members in a similar tone he had been using with Atsushi, “Is that clear?” Once he saw enough nods of acceptance from the members, he released his hold on Atsushi and strode off.
However, before Chuuya could leave completely, Atsushi called out, “Some things are better left alone…boss.”
“I know, Atsushi,” Chuuya responded back somewhat regretfully, before tensing his shoulders, and muttering under his breath:
“Maybe that’s what he should’ve done to me…”