Chapter Text
It was a cold winter dawn. The wind blew the dry branches of the trees, carrying a salty breeze throughout Yokohama.
There, atop one of the city's tallest towers, a boy sat on the edge of the building, dangling his feet over the vast abyss that stretched below him. The boy leaned back, his weight supported on his arms, as he looked up, admiring the vast night sky hidden by a yellowish barrier that sometimes shone, sometimes disappeared, but everyone knew it was still there.
He hummed the rhythm of a song as the wind ruffled his brown hair and black clothes. The boy could easily have blended into the dark sky were it not for the white bandages that clung to his neck and under the sleeves of his suit, covering his right eye.
To his right, another shorter boy, wearing a fedora, sat with one leg bent across his chest and the other dangling in the air. In his right hand, a cigarette burned. He watched the smoke rise high into the air and dissipate with the wind.
The boy brought the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag, then exhaled slowly. Then he turned to the boy on his left.
"What are you thinking about?" he finally asked, after staring at him for a long time. The dark-haired man's face broke into a playful smile.
"I'm not thinking about anything, Chuuya~," he replied in a sing-song tone, still looking up. "Don't lie to me, Dazai. You're always thinking about something."
The aforementioned Dazai finally turned to the other and noticed the blue eyes staring at him.
"I was thinking about how handsome you look tonight," he said, too quickly, with a crooked smile that seemed more reflexive than deliberate.
Chuuya's face quickly turned as red as his hair. He looked away and slapped Dazai's thigh. "Idiot," he muttered softly.
"That's not what I'm saying. Stop trying to avoid the subject."
The bandaged man sighed. "It's nothing to worry about, Chibi," he informed him seriously. "I'm just thinking about what mission the boss is going to send us on now."
"Are you sure?" "Uh-huh, absolutely." Chuuya hummed thoughtfully for a few moments, then took another drag of his cigarette. "What do you think it's going to be?" he asked, blowing smoke into the sky.
Osamu pondered what he should answer. The truth? A half-truth? A lie? A provocation... The list was immense.
However, before he could decide, his phone rang loudly. Inside, Dazai groaned in frustration. Who else would call him in the middle of the night when Chuuya was already there?
But outwardly, Dazai gave a lazy smile and picked up the phone, reading the contact's name. "Disgusting Old Man." He continued staring at the screen, deliberately delaying his answer.
"Hello?!" he said when he answered. "Osamu-kun, how are you?" asked the other end of the line in a sweet voice, so sweet it made Dazai's stomach churn.
"I want you to come to my office now. Oh, and I know you must be with Chuuya-kun now, so you can bring him too—although I'd love to play with you tonight..."
Dazai didn't even bother to reply. As soon as his boss had said everything he needed to, he ended the call, feeling his chest ache and his stomach churn.
"What was that?" Chuuya asked, seeing the disgusted expression on his partner's face as he stared at his now-deactivated phone.
Osamu took a deep breath and forced a smile, but it only made him look more broken. "Ah, Chibi," he began in his typical sing-song voice. "The boss asked to see us."
"The two of us?" the redhead confirmed, receiving a nod.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes at Dazai. Nakahara found his partner strange, or rather, stranger than usual. Despite his usual smile and idiotic attitude, his eyes were more... vacant – he hated when that happened.
He took another drag on his cigarette and put it out, releasing the smoke into the sky again before standing up and extending his hand to Dazai. "Then we'd better go soon,"
he said as he pulled the dark-haired man up.
....
Dazai hated being there.
The mere thought of facing Mori made his stomach churn, as if his body reacted even before any thought formed.
There was something about that place—about that presence—that made him uneasy in a way that was difficult to define. Repulsion mixed with an uncomfortable expectation, a desire to get away and yet, the inability to do so.
Facing the closed door of the Port Mafia boss's office, Osamu felt his chest tighten and his hands tremble slightly. Anxiety, he recognized that. The reason, he didn't know. He never knew. He only knew that any slip, any sign of weakness in front of Mori, would end up being used against him.
Beside him, Osamu notices that Chuuya is also anxious, despite maintaining the same relaxed and tough facade as always; the dark-haired man knows, from a more contracted muscle, a tighter jaw, that he too is nervous about standing before the boss.
Nakahara takes a deep breath and takes Dazai's hand. "I'm here." It means.
Osamu closed his eyes and released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, returning the handshake. "It's alright. It's just a conversation. Chuuya's here. He won't do anything to him here." The dark-haired man convinced himself as he released his partner's hand and put on his typical poker face.
He took a step forward and kicked open the large doors. A failed attempt at demonstrating confidence.
The dark-haired man entered the dark room with firm steps, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the large windows. He walked to the long, solid wood table, with Chuuya trailing to his right.
On the other side of the table, Mori sat in a large armchair, submerged in shadows. He leaned forward with his chin resting on his intertwined fingers and his head slightly tilted to the left, while a sickeningly sweet smile crossed his lips.
Seated on the floor, hidden in the shadows, a little girl hummed a children's cartoon song while scribbling on paper with crayons.
"Osamu-kun, Chuuya-kun, how are you? Please sit down." Mori greeted, gesturing for the two to sit in the armchairs positioned in front of the table.
"Boss." Chuuya greeted, removing his hat and sitting down in one of the armchairs. Dazai contented himself with a slight nod and sat down in silence.
"Before we begin, I would like to apologize for calling you during your rest time, but I believe this cannot wait until morning." Ougai began, adopting a more serious posture. "This afternoon I had a meeting with the other leaders of the tripartite committee regarding the current situation in Yokohama."
"I believe you are aware that, lately, the number of heroes attempting to breach the barrier has increased, because they firmly believe that our beloved city is a chaotic mess controlled by 'cruel villains' and that they, the heroes, have a duty to 'save' the 'helpless citizens' from the terrible clutches of the 'villains'."
Dazai felt like rolling his eyes at the statement.
Seriously, what was wrong with these idiotic heroes? This irritating obsession with dividing everything into right and wrong, as if the world really worked that way; whoever does good things is a 'hero' and whoever does bad things is a 'villain'. Ridiculous.
"Because of these incidents—" Mori continued, "—we, the Port Mafia, the Armed Detective Agency, and the Special Division of Paranormal Powers, have decided to send the Mafia's main strike force, the Double Black, on an infiltration mission into two distinct, yet still important, organizations to undermine hero society and stop a possible future threat."
"And what are these organizations, boss?" Chuuya questioned, receiving a venomous smile in response before Ougai grabbed two stacks of paper from his desk and handed one to the dark-haired man and the other to the redhead.
"You, Chuuya-kun, will infiltrate the hero academy, UA."
"WHAT?!" Nakahara exclaimed while frantically flipping through the stack of papers. "Why?"
"I really think that you, Chuuya-kun, will have a much easier time adapting to the other students than Osamu-kun."
Dazai chuckled, which was answered by a finger before Chuuya continued. "Boss, I've never been to school; the closest thing to it was when Ane-san educated me. Besides, I've traveled to other Japanese cities, and the accent we have in Yokohama is unique. There's no way to tell I'm from a region if my accent doesn't sound like it, and I'm sure it wouldn't be smart to tell the truth."
Mori smiled before replying, "That's why you'll be sent as an American exchange student. This will justify your accent, as well as explain the fact that you don't know much about current Japanese culture and make it easier to create a backstory for you."
Chuuya nodded in agreement, deciding not to ask any more questions.
"Now, you, Osamu-kun—" Mori turned to Dazai, offering him a toothy grin that sent shivers down his spine, "—will infiltrate the criminal organization that calls itself the League of Villains."
Osamu felt like laughing at the name. 'League of Villains' is ridiculous, that name is awful. It manages to be worse than 'Port Mafia'. Seriously, what happened to the industry of naming criminal organizations?
"What will I have to do?" Dazai asked, speaking for the first time since entering the room.
"The usual basics. Gather information, gain the trust of the other members, and manipulate them to their downfall," Mori began.
"As usual, I'll give you the freedom to plan and execute. All the necessary information is in the files in your hands," Ougai indicated the papers in the boys' laps.
"As usual, I'll give you the freedom to plan and execute. All the necessary information is in the files in your hands." Ougai indicated the papers in the boys' laps.
"Ah, and regarding the reports, I want as little as possible. Gather all the information you can and send it to me once a month. Only send it earlier in case of extreme urgency. You'll have the rest of the night to plan and prepare your luggage; a car will pick you up tomorrow morning at 9:30."
The boss paused for both teenagers to absorb the instructions before continuing, "That's all. You're dismissed. Don't disappoint me."
Dazai and Nakahara nodded before getting up and leaving the office.
Thank goodness, Mori left Dazai alone that night.