Chapter Text
Dying wasn’t really Chuuya’s thing.
Everyone knows whose thing it really is.
DECEMBER 17 - SUNDAY
Striding through the backstreets of Yokohama, Chuuya was pretty sure someone was following him.
Black shoes stepped out of the glass doors of the Port Mafia headquarters. At this late hour, the streets of Yohama were silent, and the young executive welcomed the chilly midnight air. Having just returned from a solo mission in Kyoto, Chuuya felt dead on his feet. While the mission had been easy for him, he hasn’t properly slept since Wednesday.
Walking out, a black car pulled up to take him home. But it was then that Chuuya sensed it. As he reached for the car door, the hairs on the back of Chuuya’s neck suddenly stood. Pausing at the door handle, he tried to listen for any sounds. Nothing. Only the feeling that eyes were on him.
“Sir?” The voice of the Port Mafia driver pulled Chuuya out of his focus.
Withdrawing from the handle, Chuuya let the tension in his shoulders relax. He kept his voice carefully casual. “Actually, I could use a drink.”
Piercing blue eyes scanned the area. “Go on ahead.”
The driver nodded, and the windows of the luxury car rolled up. Watching the car drive away, Chuuya let out an imperceptible sigh. It wouldn’t be the first time an enemy ability user tried to catch him off guard after a mission, but he really wished they’d just let him go to sleep.
He’d get this over with quickly. Turning right, Chuuya headed straight into the dark backstreets of Yokohama.
Weaving through the city, Chuuya kept his posture relaxed even when he felt the presence drawing near. But despite his deliberate pace, they never bit. Eventually, Chuuya came to a stop in front of a bar.
It was a personal favorite of Chuuya’s, a place he often came to when he wanted to drink alone. Usually empty this late at night, it was most importantly under Port Mafia protection. Whatever happened, the bar owner wouldn’t cause any issues.
The sound of the door chime greeted Chuuya as he entered the bar. The bar owner gave him a mild smile before preparing a glass of wine without a word. Pulling out the barstool, Chuuya sat at the counter, letting his back face the wall.
A glass of wine was set in front of him. Pulling it close, Chuuya waited. The door chimed again.
Turning his head, Chuuya’s eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.
Standing at the door was Sakaguchi Ango.
Letting out a sigh, Chuuya turned back to the counter. “You’ve got some balls to come into Port Mafia territory.”
Of all people, Doc Glasses was the last person he wanted to see tonight. The informant seemed wary, his dark hair messier than usual. Chuuya didn’t know him well, having hardly crossed paths with him even when he was in the mafia. But, while there is only one person in the world that Chuuya hates, he couldn’t say he exactly likes Ango either. Maybe the man’s poor taste in former friends has something to do with it.
Ango approached the counter, taking a seat, he looked up at the bartender. “Tomato juice, please.”
Hearing Ango’s order, Chuuya’s face scrunched in disdain. As the bartender took out the juice container, Chuuya took a moment to observe the other man. While Doc Glasses' face was neutral, the way his fingers kept tapping the counter gave him away.
A glass of tomato juice was soon placed on the counter, and Chuuya gave a subtle nod to the bartender. Bowing slightly, the bartender disappeared to the back, leaving the two alone.
Without taking a sip, Ango began. “I apologize for interrupting your night. But I’m afraid this is an urgent matter.”
Chuuya guessed so. This glasses nerd never came with good news. He gestured at him to continue.
Ango winced. He had heard many childish complaints about the man beside him in a bar not unlike this one. But sitting next to the man now, those images didn’t align. Even though Chuuya looked tired, an otherworldly quality to him remained.
Taking a breath, Ango asked, “Have you ever heard of the ability user Yasunari Kawabata?”
Chuuya shrugged. “Can’t say that I have.”
Ango nodded, “He’s an ability user employed by the government. His ability, Sound of the Mountain, allows him to see glimpses of the future that manifest into a paper crane containing a prophecy.”
He continued, “A few hours ago, another one of his prophecies manifested.”
Ango hesitated before handing Chuuya a small paper crane. Raising a brow, he hadn’t expected it to be a literal gold origami paper crane. Chuuya carefully turned it over before unfolding it.
Written inside was the message: Nakahara Chuuya will die in seven days by the one he loves most.
He blinked several times, not trusting his own eyes. In an instant, he crushed the paper crane in his fist. Chuuya didn’t say anything for a moment, his face showing nothing but careful indifference. Glancing up at Ango, he nodded.
“If that’s all, then I’ll be going home,” said Chuuya as he began to rise.
Ango’s eyes widened as he watched Chuuya throw a couple of bills onto the counter. “Wait!”
Turning to Chuuya in panic, “I don’t want to presume. But the possibility of what could happen if you were to attack Da–”
Chuuya stopped in his tracks, causing Ango’s voice to falter. Turning his head back to the man, Chuuya raised his brow. A clear, cutting voice rang in the empty bar.
“If Dazai wants to kill me, he can come and try.”
The door chimed again, leaving Ango alone.
DECEMBER 18 - MONDAY (6 Days Until Death)
“If Chibi was going to die, what would you do?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Not going to answer?”
“I’m not some suicidal bastard like you. I would just kill whatever was going to kill me.”
“Pfft, of course you would say that.”
“Oi…I guess I’d take down as many of my enemies as possible before I died.”
“...Just as I thought. What a predictable dog response.”
“You–”
Chuuya’s eyes snapped open. The memory had come to him uninvited in the moments before he fully woke up. Why was he thinking of that of all things?
Rubbing a hand over his face, Chuuya glanced at his alarm clock. In an hour and a half, a black luxury car would pull up in front of his building, and another day would begin.
Pushing all thoughts aside, Chuuya fell into his routine. The Yokohama sun began to peek into the penthouse as Chuuya pulled on his three-piece suit. As he changed, Chuuya’s mind couldn’t help but wander to the paper crane still in his coat pocket.
Nakahara Chuuya will die in seven days by the one he loves most.
It was one thing to be told he was going to die.
But the one he loves most…that was annoying.
It was something Chuuya had intended to ignore until the day he died. Though he supposed he had miscalculated. The day he died was far sooner than he expected, and Chuuya couldn’t ignore it.
With a sigh, Chuuya finished the final button. Slipping his coat onto his shoulders, he assessed his appearance before reaching for his gloves. Thankfully, nothing was out of place. He looked the same as always when it came to work, deadly and untouchable.
The gloves were pulled on, and the thoughts of his death faded. Chuuya wasn’t dying today, and until something happened, he had better things to focus on.
Downstairs, a Port Mafia car was already waiting for him. Stepping inside, the car soon took off, headed towards the Port Mafia headquarters.
Bringing out his tablet, Chuuya reviewed several encoded updates sent to him. These updates didn’t cover solely mafia business, but chatter across Yokohama. Both legal and illegal.
Thankfully, there wasn’t a single mention regarding any prophecies. It seemed like the Special Ability unit was keeping it under wraps. Chuuya’s skin crawled at the thought of a certain bandaged bastard finding out about the prophecy. He would sooner carve out his eye than allow that to happen.
Refocusing, Chuuya pulled up information about the ability user, Yasunari Kawabata. There was frustratingly little to go off, only a basic synopsis of his ability and reports that seemed to suggest that there was no escaping the fate Kawabata’s ability spelled out. It had a 100% accuracy.
Closing the database, he resisted the urge to crush the tablet. It wasn’t what he was hoping to hear.
Before he could continue scrolling, an alert on his phone sounded. Pulling it out, Chuuya scanned the contents. It was an urgent signal. The Black Lizards were requesting backup.
Chuuya tossed his tablet aside and called out to the driver. “Change of plans. We’re heading to the warehouses.” Nodding, the driver took a sharp right turn.
Slamming the car door shut, Chuuya assessed the scene that greeted him. Laid out on the floor, most of the Black Lizards groaned in pain as they clutched their injuries. A young blonde woman, barely managing to keep her top half up as she lay on her side, was the first to spot him.
Higuichi’s eyes widened. “Nakahara-san!”
She managed to grit through her pain. “Multiple ability users. One is especially tricky. Akutagawa-senpai is inside, fighting.”
Chuuya nodded before walking past them. Seeing him approaching the warehouse alone, Higuchi panicked. “Hold on! It’s too dangerous–”
Ignoring the calls from behind, Chuuya kicked the warehouse doors clean open. Cool eyes surveyed the room. He instantly spotted Akutagawa backed into a corner, struggling to protect himself. It seemed to be roughly 8 ability users and around 30 men holding guns.
Catching his gaze, Akutagawa winced. “Chuuya-san.”
The purple-haired user standing in the center of the room turned her attention away from the mad dog, coy eyes sliding to Chuuya. She let out a sweet smile filled with poison. “Oh! And who might you be? Another victim?”
Her hands reached out towards the executive as if to desire to hug him. The swirling energy of an ability activating surrounded her. “Since you came here on your own. I’ll give you a warning.”
“No one has ever escaped my ability.” Her smile turned viscous. “You’ll die in this warehouse.”
Red crawled over black. Touching one of the metal crates beside him, it began to float. He returned her smile. “Oh, really?”
He sent it straight into her face.
The fight was over in minutes. Standing on the second floor, Chuuya took out the last ability user. One leg still stomped on top of him, Chuuya’s gaze fell onto a limping Akutagawa down below. Considering the scene he had witnessed, Chuuya was impressed that Akutagawa was able to handle his own for so long. Few in the Mafia would’ve survived. But Akutagawa didn’t look happy.
From the warehouse doors, the rest of the Black Lizards staggered in. They quickly bowed as Chuuya jumped down from the second floor to them.
“Thank you for the assistance, Nakahara-san,” said Higuchi.
Giving them a quick nod, he bent down to examine one of the fallen bodies. In the background, he could hear Hirotsu’s smooth voice commanding the rest of the squad to clear out. Leaving only Akutagawa with him in the warehouse.
Akutagawa stared at the bent-down Chuuya. “They said you would be returning to Yokohama later tonight.”
Chuuya shrugged, turning to look at him. “I came back last night.” He stood up, glancing at the bodies he had left behind. Something about the attack didn’t sit right with him. “I’m surprised guys like these would try to attack the Port Mafia.”
Ever since Fyodor’s defeat a year ago, the number of major ability users who dared to attack Yokohama has been going down. The city has been more peaceful than it has been in years, with lower-level ability users rarely trying to attack.
“It’s because of Chuuya-san.”
His eyes settled on Akutagawa, “Huh?”
The usual raging fire in Akutagawa’s eyes simmered. His arms were still clasped behind his back. “He said that as long as we have you, the Port Mafia is unbeatable,” said Akutagawa.
“The only one fit to be his partner.” Akutagawa scowled down in frustration.
Chuuya’s brows furrowed watching the younger man. He didn’t understand where this was coming from, but he’s long been aware of the grip his former partner had over him. “Look, I wouldn’t listen to anything that slimy mackerel says.”
Akutagawa didn’t respond for a moment before bowing once more. “Please excuse me.” Turning around, he trudged out of the warehouse despite his injuries.
Watching him, Chuuya couldn’t help but worry. It truly was concerning how often certain mafia members mentioned Dazai, an interest he couldn’t share. Hirotsu, who had witnessed the exchange, quietly approached.
Bowing his head slightly, Hirotsu’s deep voice spoke up. “I apologize, Chuuya-san. Akutagawa’s been rather desperate to prove himself these days.”
Chuuya waved it off. It’s not like he insulted him. But something Akutagawa said was bugging him. “What does he mean? That it’s because of me?”
Hirotsu paused, seeming to consider his next words. “This group attacked because they thought Chuuya-san wouldn’t be in Yokohama.”
Hirotsu was met with surprised silence by Chuuya. He let out a chuckle, relaxing a bit as he took out his cigarette holder. Offering one to the executive, Chuuya accepted. After taking a drag from his cigarette, Hirotsu explained. “Over the years, Chuuya-san’s presence has protected us and Yokohama as a whole. Without you, many would take the opportunity to attack like today.”
The fact that Chuuya had a reputation wasn’t new to him. Whispers had followed him for most of his life, filled with a mix of awe and fear. However, Hirotsu’s words made Chuuya pause. He never considered what would happen to the organization if he were to disappear.
For his part, Hirotsu patiently waited for the executive to speak. Seagulls called in the distance as the attractive red-haired man brought his cigarette up to his mouth, lost in thought. But one question rose to the top in Chuuya’s mind. Finally, in a softer voice, Chuuya asked. “Hirotsu. What would you do if you found out you only had a couple of days to live?”
If Hirotsu was surprised by the question, he did a good job of hiding it. Considering for a moment, he eventually answered in a calm voice. “I would like to go to the theatre and see my favorite play.”
Chuuya let out a small laugh. He supposed most people would give a similar answer. When faced with their mortality, they would want to spend their final days doing the things they loved most. Tilting his head in faint amusement, “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, old man.”
Hirotsu matched his small smile for a moment before his expression turned solemn. “However, I would never be able to." His eyes met Chuuya's questioning ones. "For I swore an oath to this organization, and even if I were dying, I would continue to serve the Port Mafia to the very end.”
Ah, of course. Chuuya broke their stare to witness all the Port Mafia men running around them. While it wasn’t a truth Chuuya liked, some of them might lose their lives tomorrow, many of them by the end of the year. Despite knowing this, their contracts were bound to their very lives. They couldn’t do as they wanted, simply in the face of death.
They didn’t live such simple lives.
Chuuya flicked his cigarette to the ground. “You’re right, Hirotsu.”
Hirotsu glanced at the executive. The reason they all escaped with their lives today was due to the man standing next to him. But, while such a man was capable of standing on his own, Hirotsu couldn’t help but think something was missing.
Letting that thought go, he put out his cigarette. Turning to Chuuya, he bowed once again. “Thank you for your assistance, Chuuya-san.” Giving him a once-over, Hirotsu said in an even voice, “I do advise, however, that you get some rest. You have only just returned from your mission.”
Chuuya’s face eased back into a proud smirk, “Worry about yourself, Gramps. As you said, duty calls.”
Starting to walk away, Chuuya heard a defeated sigh behind him. Without turning around, Chuuya called out. “And I’ll get you those theatre tickets for Christmas!”
Hirotsu felt a headache forming. “Yes, Chuuya-san.”
For the most part, the rest of the day continued without a hitch.
Chuuya finished his report, sent out instructions to his men, and even found time to drop off the omiyage he had gotten for Ane-san in Kyoto. But the moment there was a lull, the paper crane would begin to feel like a weight in his pocket.
Closing the final report for the day, the setting sun cast over the city and bathed his office in golden light. Taking a moment to watch the sun set, Chuuya’s finger tapped on his chair, deep in thought.
The Black Lizard’s words wouldn’t leave his mind. With a sigh, he brought out the paper crane again, looking at the words inside. Perhaps when he had met Doc Glasses, he hadn’t fully realized what it would mean for him to die. It would be more than an embarrassing affair caused by his sorry excuse of a former partner. When he died, he would no longer be able to protect the people and city from their enemies.
While he hadn’t wanted to flail like an idiot before his death…it seemed that Chuuya couldn’t just die.
As the last remaining light from the sun disappeared over the harbor, Chuuya spent the next hour combing through the Port Mafia’s database. Typing out the information he needed, he looked it over one last time before standing from his desk.
Chuuya looked up, calling out to the nearest Port Mafia employee.
“Is the boss in?”
City lights reflected onto Chuuya’s face as the glass elevator rose towards the highest floor before plunging into darkness. It was the highest manmade point in Yokohama, and it housed one person.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal two guards with their guns ready. Cocking his head, Chuuya announced himself. “Port Mafia Executive Nakahara Chuuya. I’m here to see the boss.”
Familiar with the man, one of the guards spoke up in acknowledgement. “Nakahara-san, do you have an appointment?”
Chuuya walked past them. “No.”
The guards wavered but didn’t try to stop him. Truthfully, while he was often welcomed into the Boss’s office, Chuuya himself wasn’t sure if it was okay for him to come uninvited. But right now, he has bigger problems.
Stopping in front of the grand blood-red door, Chuuya kept his expression blank. Hopefully, he won’t be leaving the office in a body bag today.
The doors swung open. There, Ogai Mori sat. Looking up from his desk, his eyes widened slightly to see Chuuya.
“Chuuya-kun, what a surprise.”
His pleasant and ever-serene voice greeted Chuuya. Stopping in front of his desk, Chuuya bowed. “Boss.”
Infatuation with Elise-chan aside, Chuuya could say without a doubt that there was no one better fit to lead the Port Mafia than Ogai Mori. If someone else had sat in his chair, Chuuya would have killed them long ago to allow Mori to take the seat instead. Although more powerful ability users were under him, the ex-doctor’s cold logic and ability to see the most optimal solution regardless of how cruel made him perfect for the world they lived in.
Chuuya prayed that Mori would see the logic behind his own intentions. “I’m requesting to leave the Port Mafia.”
Mori’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes darkened upon hearing Chuuya’s words. Even so, Chuuya pushed on. He slowly reached into his pocket. Pulling out the gold paper crane, he handed it to Mori.
“Last night, Sakaguchi Ango approached me with this prophecy,” Chuuya carefully explained. “According to him, an ability user in the government manifested it yesterday.”
Chuuya watched as he read the words on the paper crane. Mori’s eyebrows raised in surprise before he let out a small laugh. “How unexpected.”
Intertwining his hands and bringing them up to his chin, his eyes flashed to Chuuya. “I assume you don’t intend to leave the Port Mafia to spend your final days in peace.”
Chuuya never wanted to admit this, and to his boss at that, but he forced the next few words out.
“I’m sure you know who it is.” Chuuya let out a scowl in annoyance. “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate to deal with it directly.”
Mori hummed in agreement. “Yes. The potential cost of engaging the Armed Detective Agency for a future that may be inevitable wouldn’t be ideal.”
Before Chuuya could reply, Mori continued. “However, you are an invaluable member of this organization, Chuuya. Through our support, you’ve become our strongest weapon.”
A somber expression rested on Mori’s face, as if a hundred possibilities were playing out behind his eyes. “No doubt, would our enemies take the chance to attack from your loss, and we may never recover.”
Chuuya winced at his words, bearing the weight of the title put onto him. Finally, he gave Mori what he had been planning to do all along. In the shitty situation that was to be his death, this is the only conclusion he could come to.
On the tablet placed in front of Mori was a list of people. The ten biggest threats to the Port Mafia and Yokohama at large that Chuuya intended to kill before he died.
As Mori scanned the list, Chuuya didn’t bother explaining. From the names alone, Mori would be able to understand why he needed to leave the mafia. Such drastic actions would only put a target on the Port Mafia’s back so long as they’re tied to him.
With a sigh, Mori set the tablet back down. For the first time in their conversation, Chuuya could see genuine amusement in Mori’s eyes. “It seems that you’ll never stop surprising me, Chuuya-kun. While usually, I couldn’t even dare to believe that this task is possible, I trust that you will get it done.”
An unspoken agreement was passed between the two.
Chuuya bent his knee.
Bowing his head, “In my final days, I swear to eliminate the Port Mafia’s enemies.”
The room was quiet as Chuuya delivered his final words to his boss, “...and so, I will be leaving the Port Mafia tonight, Boss.”
Mori stared at the man, a complicated expression returning to his face. He let out a small breath. “Very well. Go.”
Chuuya rose. Tipping his head, he bid his boss goodbye. But before he fully turned around, Mori’s even voice spoke again.
“Have you considered talking to Dazai-kun?”
Chuuya looked back at Mori like he was crazy. What good would that do?
“I don’t see how Dazai delighting at the fact that he’s responsible for my death would be helpful,” Chuuya said with disdain. That mackerel was already ruining his week as is.
Mori let out a sigh, “When I partnered you up with two together all those years ago, never did I imagine this to be the outcome. But even still, I don’t think I was mistaken.”
Chuuya’s brow scrunched in confusion. At that moment, the gravity manipulator looked inexplicably young. Mori let out an imperceptible smile.
“This will only be a temporary leave, “ Mori said as he dismissed Chuuya. His final words chased after Chuuya as he left, “I will await to welcome you back, Port Mafia Executive Nakahara Chuuya.”
Chuuya didn’t look back as the door slammed shut.
DECEMBER 22 - Friday (4 Days Until Death)
“As of 32 hours ago, Nakahara Chuuya has left the Port Mafia.”
Atushi dropped his pen in surprise as Kunikida’s grave voice broke the news during the agency’s morning brief.
On the screen, a red-haired man wearing a red and black racing jacket whirled through what looked like 20 men brandishing weapons. Kicking the last man down, he finally came to a standstill. Looking closely, Atsushi could see that it was unmistakably the gravity manipulator.
Pushing past his shock, Atsushi peeped up. “I didn’t know it was possible to leave the mafia. Well, excluding Dazai, I suppose…”
Atushi’s eyes drew to his mentor’s seat, which was empty. Of course.
“Usually no,” Kunikida adjusted his glasses, giving Atushi a sharp look. “But the Port Mafia has made it clear that they’ve cut ties with him.”
Kunikida clicked the remote, changing the screen to showcase five grey profiles. “The former executive has been extremely active since his defection. Eliminating, from what we are currently aware of, five high-profile ability users in the past three days.”
All of the agency’s employees were silent as they observed the profiles. Atsushi felt chills run down his back seeing the names. There wasn't a name he didn’t recognize there. These were all people they had been monitoring due to their potential threat, for Chuuya to take them all out in three days completely alone…What a terrifying person.
Yosano let out an incredulous laugh. Atushi was inclined to agree. That was just ridiculous.
Fukuzawa finally spoke up, a heavy expression on his face. “For now, it seems like he isn’t targeting the city. But as we are all aware, Nakahara is an incredibly dangerous ability user. One we need to be cautious of.”
Despite the foreboding words, Fukuzawa’s voice remained composed. He scanned the table. “Is Dazai back from his personal mission?”
Atsushi spoke out, voice hesitant. “He was supposed to return this morning.”
Fukuzawa sighed before looking at the weretiger. “Since Ranpo is out of the country. Atushi, I’m assigning you and Dazai to figure out Chuuya’s motives.”
Atsushi jolted in surprise, head whipping to the president. Before he could protest, Fukuzawa had already stood up, effectively ending the meeting.
Watching Fukuzawa exit the door, Yosano let out a sigh.
“Fighting the gravity wielder,” she let out a bitter smile. “Ah, someone really might die this time.”
Atushi let out a groan, head smushing into the table. He felt a few pats of sympathy on his shoulder as the agency members filed out of the room.
Eventually, Atushi managed to slink out of the meeting room. His eyes brightened when he spotted a bandaged man languishing on the agency’s couch.
"Dazai-san!" Atushi began to say.
The man hushed Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun! Shush! I’m about to beat this level!”
He had his phone in his hands, seemingly open on a racing game.
Atushi felt his eyebrow begin to twitch before tamping it down. Exasperated, he tried again. “But, Dazai-san. The president wants us to–”
“NOO!” Dazai flailed his arms, and they fell over his face in distress. Glancing at the screen, Atushi could see the words GAME OVER flashing clearly.
A dramatic groan came from the lump on the couch. Atsushi sighed at the pathetic sight. Speaking to his lump mentor, Atsushi finally managed to say, “The President assigned us on a mission. We need to begin investigating Dazai-san.”
“Investigating what?” A muffled question.
At that, Atsushi hesitated. Throughout his time at the agency, he’s never directly interacted with Nakahara. But, despite the brief glimpses Atushi got of the man, for reasons he couldn’t quite place, he instantly knew that he was Dazai’s partner.
The said partner was lying in front of him. While it didn’t take a genius to understand why his mentor was assigned to the task, Atushi wasn’t sure how he would react to the news.
In a voice softer than earlier, Atsushi told Dazai. “Nakahara-san has left the Port Mafia.”
Dazai remained unmoving. Prompting Atushi to continue. “We’ve been tasked to investigate his motive.”
Finally, Dazai’s arms fell from his face, ragdolling onto the floor. Only to let out an exaggerated groan. “Boooring!”
His face scrunched in disgust. “Who cares about that nasty slug anyway?”
Grabbing his phone, he turned over. His back facing Atushi, he called out to Atushi. “I’m sure Atushi-kun can figure this one out on his own.”
Dazai waved the other agency member off with the hand he wasn’t using to mash at his phone. “I’m super busy with a new suicide technique I learned about last night.”
Atushi sighed. Of course.
DECEMBER 22 - Friday (4 Days Until Death)
Ango rushed out of the office of the Special Division for Unusual Powers. The past couple of days have been busier than they've been in months. Distracted, he barely stopped himself from tripping as he turned the corner to where the department’s car was parked.
Ango came to an abrupt stop.
Leaning beside the car was Dazai Osamu, seemingly focused on the game on his phone. After a moment, he glanced up.
“Oh, Ango. Perfect.”
Slipping his phone into his trench coat, Dazai smiled up at him.
“Where’s Chuuya?”