Chapter Text
Unknown to the public, a plane was flying through the cheerful blue sky it's white contrasting sharply against it, inside sat a man in a firmly pressed suit with sunglasses that covered his eyes, all alone. His hands were trembling deeply as he held a 22. revolver and his breathing was irregular.
Suddenly a sharp thump rang through the bones of the plane.
The man gasped and looked out the window thinking something happened to the plane, his shaking intensifying. On the wing of the plane, a figure surrounded in a red outline that covered his whole body was walking towards the window where the man sat.
He wore a ruby red shirt with a sliver hoodie and a army green jacket over the top. He had sapphire blue jeans with black trainers on, his hands rested in his pockets while his hood was up covering his face.
The man screamed in terror, "The king of the sheep!" as he fell back as if burned.
The figure smirked sharp as a knife that cut through any hope the man had that he would survive. As the man tried to run to a hiding place suddenly the side of the plane ripped away in a giant hole, sending the man flying to the floor.
Suddenly the figure began speaking as he walked into the plane through the hole made by him.
"Run as much as you like, but you'll never escape gravity" The figures voice was raspy and calm.
The man pulled his gun aiming it at the figure, "Damn monster!"
The man fired his gun, the bullet ripping through the air. But as the bullet was about to hit the figure it stopped in mid air and the figure kicked it back at the man hitting him perfectly in the forehead, killing him instantly.
The figures hood fell down as he looked back at the man on the floor, speaking in a icy cool tone, "You're just the beginning, I'm gonna kill all of the Port Mafia."
Back on the ground a little later.
It was late in the afternoon. The sun just dipping under the horizon. Mori and Dazai are in Mori's doctor looking office.
Shadows bouncing off the walls, the sun stabs through the tiny square windows that rest on the wall making the room coated in a sugary orange from the sun. The curtains still like a rock in the sea of tense calm that spread through the room.
"Things aren't looking good for us. Our weapons smugglers are 2 weeks behind schedule, if this keeps up, our men will literally be bringing knives to a gun fight." Mori says his voice gaining a little amusement. Dazai sit's behind him mixing something in a jar, his bandages around his arms, neck and eye resting softly against his pale skin, with a square plaster with 2 pieces of tape one down and one across keeping it in place.
"And while the violence continues to rise, " Mori continues, his voice soft and deliberate hiding any trace of worry.
"Contracts for our protection business continue to dwindle" Mori sighs deeply exasperation finally reaching his voice. "What do you think Dazai?" Mori askes, his shoulder raised in a tense posture, Mori turns in his spinning chair at his old, tattered doctors desk, that houses a lamp, a few dusty books and a few scattered papers, "Are we not actually cut out for this work?" Mori paints a frown across his face.
Dazai turns his head to look at mori, his bandages shifting softly, his tousled brown hair that lays perfect swaying, "Really now Mori?" Dazai's voice answered, calculated and smooth. "Not having money or intel or supplies or even the trust of our subordinates. You knew that was going to be the situation from the beginning." Dazai says his voice taking on a resigned tone.
Mori's frown deepened, "That's so harsh," Mori suddenly tilted his head slightly his doctors coat bristling. "By the way is there a reason you're mixing hypertension and hypotension medications?"
"I thought that mixing them together might be a cozy way to go out." Dazai says calmly as if discussing the weather outside. He always spoke like that about killing himself as if he's a robot.
Mori's voice turned serious, "Listen Dazai, you were the sole witness when I inherited the Boss's position. So as a result, you're the only one who can verify his will. I can't afford to have you senselessly die."
The memory flashes through Dazai's head. He stood back against tall ceiling to floor windows that covered the entire wall looking onto the view in the old boss's bedroom, The room coated in a calm steel grey that made the shadows dance across the walls and sharpen in the corners, in the centre sat a lavish bed that lay the old boss in a sickly manner.
Mori speaks up, his voice cutting through the air with a sickly sweet tone that drips like venom off every word, "How are you feeling today, Boss?"
The old boss's raspy, sickly voice rings through the air like a bell on a cat. "Doctor, tell the board this is a order, kill all enemy organisations. Military police, anyone else who opposes the Port Mafia by sundown."
Mori's voice replies calmly, "That would be most unwise."
The old boss retorts, "I don't care how many of our own need to die. Just kill them." He starts repeating "Kill them, Kill them all" over and over. "Kill every last one of them"
Mori presses a scalpel that glints dangerously in the moonlit room, "I hear you loud and clear."
Just like that Mori moved his wrist and slit the old boss's throat, his blood splattering all over the wall, coating it in red. Mori finally speaks up to Dazai as the boss's blood leaks onto his sheets and the blood on the wall slowly dribbles down the wall, "The boss has succumb to illness, he left behind a will intrusting me with his position."
Mori turns to face Dazai his face covered in a sticky red, a sickly sadistic smile spread across his face as if etched into his skin, "You're the witness to that fact. Understood?"
Dazai stood there his face cald and calculating as he stayed silent staring at Mori. His eyes a deep brown like voids.
Dazai snaps back to reality like a switch has just been flicked, suddenly he's back in the same room as Mori. "Looks like you made a mistake." Dazai said his voice benumbed. "Your reasoning to choose someone who attempts suicide as your accomplice was sound, but here I am a year later still kicking."
Mori retorts his voice brimming with understanding, "I made no mistake, it seems to me that you and I were successful in our mission."
Dazai looks at the ground, "The mission isn't complete yet. I haven't been silenced and I'm aware of the assassination, if I'd committed suicide afterward then I would've been the perfect accomplice. The reason I took my own life wouldn't have mattered to anyone. Once my testimony had already helped you become boss, nobody would've suspected."
Mori smirked sharp as a scalpel, his eyes narrowed. "You remind me of someone." Mori says, his voice delighted.
Dazai looks up confused, "huh?"
Mori continues, his voice dropping to a calm and composed tone, "You know if I was going to shut you up, I could've done so a long time ago. If you'd like me too, I can prepare something that would end your life peacefully."
Dazai perks up at that his voice filling with excitement, like a child who got the thing they wanted on Christmas, "You could?!"
Mori calmly reaches over to a file draw and opens it carefully, "but in exchange, I want you to do something for me." He says as he pulls out a piece of white paper that has delicate decorations placed around it, and reaches for his quill with ink soaked on the bottom gently, "it's nothing serious, you won't be in any kind of danger, no big deal" Mori says, writing something that Dazai can't quite see.
Dazai states, "I'm not buying it."
Mori sits up straight and askes Dazai, "I trust you already know about Suribachi City in the Yokohama settlement? There's a rumour that a certain individual from the past has been sighted in that area. I want you to go and investigate this rumour."
Mori holds up the paper showing it to Dazai, "Take this contract with you, it's called 'The Silver Oracle' show this to any member of the Port Mafia, and they will do whatever you ask of them."
Dazai askes, "Whose the rumour about?"
Mori lowers the paper and looks at Dazai, "Take a guess."
Dazai lowers his head and thinks, "uhhhh, it'd be a rumour you don't want picking up speed," realization washes over him, "ah I see, it'd have to be him, wouldn't it?" Dazai says as he stands slowly his coat swaying softly at his movement.
"The subject of the rumours has to be the previous boss." Dazai says as he walks over to Mori.
"Precisely." Mori says, his voice calm and cool, as he holds up the paper for Dazai to take, "There are some people who must never raise from their graves. I trust you understand where I'm coming from?"
Dazai takes the paper from Mori, "Just make me that drug."
Mori's voice turns sickly sweet, "This will be your first official job. Welcome to the Port Mafia"
Dazai turns to leave but as he is about to walk out, Dazai stops at the door turning to face Mori, "Oh right, Who was this someone I reminded you of?"
Mori smiles, "Myself, of course."
Dazai opens his mouth as if to speak but Mori askes him a question before he can, "Tell me Dazai, why is it you wish to die?"
Dazai responds calmly, "Let's turn that question around, is there really any value to this thing we call living?"
Dazai turned and walked out, slow and calm, his clothes rustling at each step. His bandages brushing softly against his clothes, his coat hanging loosely on his frame like always. His shoes tapping on the floor in calm-almost calculated-footsteps.
As he stepped outside, the brisk air hit him like a brick wall. The cold air sending shivers down his spine that racked his whole body. He started his journey to his one person apartment. Where many sleepless nights had occurred.
He stumbled up the stairs that where all too familiar, with memories of his drunk thoughts. Soaked into the stone like a sponge. He reached his old, tattered blue painted door, as it stood before him, like a mockery of his loneliness. Dazai walked into his apartment, the air charged and tense. The apartment is familiar... calming yet depressed.
The moon softly lighting his living room through the curtains, dusting the room in a careful grey. One that Dazai is all too used too. He runs a hand through his tousled chestnut brown hair, that rested perfectly around his face.
He walks into his room and gets changed. He changes into his usual comfy clothes, a old band t-shirt and joggers that only he has seen himself in, since he is meant to be the "demon prodigy" he has to always be presentable. He gets into his bed and just stares at the ceiling for what feels like eternity.
And then suddenly. Golden rays of soft sunlight brush his cold skin, giving some warmth. He's always cold, never warm. His eyes are like black voids, nothing in them unless you know him. He gets out of bed, slow... tired. "Another sleepless night" His voice raspy and gravely, from lack of speaking.
He sighs, groaning as he gets up from his bed, the old wood creaking as he rises out of it. His joints pop like bubble wrap. He walks into his bathroom.
The smell of bleach hitting him. He brushes his teeth, but now it's to his least favourite part -taking off his bandages-he thinks. "Can I leave it for another day?" He says, his voice small and gentle. Something he will never let someone else hear.
It had already been a week and he really should but he decides it can wait. He walks out of the bathroom and gets into his usual suit, his coat sitting on his frame-a familiar weight-he walks out of his apartment and walks to the Port mafia base.
The air crisp in the morning dew, sunlight hitting his face. People stare as he walks. Inside a man with grey hair is talking with a younger port mafia member. "You" Dazai says pointing at the old man, his voice cold and calculating.
"Yes?" The man with grey hair turns around slightly, expecting to see Mori or another executive, not the demon prodigy himself. His eyes narrow and he waits for the brunette to speak and tell him why he's here.
"You are coming with me to Suribachi City." Dazai said, not a question. Not a choice. A demand. "Why me?" The old man asked as he turns to fully face the 15 year old.
"I need extra protection, there are a lot of people who want to kill me, and as much as I want to die. They will not make it quick. It will hurt and believe it or not, I do not like pain." Dazai says, his voice carrying a edge that shows this is not to be questioned further, as he holds up the silver oracle.
"Okay then, when do we leave?" The man askes, his voice careful now. "Now, get ready to leave." Dazai says, his voice sharp as a knife. The old man hurriedly turned and walked-his footsteps fast and uncoordinated-towards the artillery room.
Dazai turns on his heels once the old man comes back ready to leave, his dress shoes tapping on the floor in a slow, rhythmic beat. Confident as he steps outside into the fresh air, the smell of sweet treats from shops and coffee filling the air as he walks down the street.
The two head down to Suribachi City, the crater filled with houses made of crates and corrugated metal.
He sits at the bottom of a set of stairs leading him into the crater of houses, pulling out his favourite book-The Complete Guide To Suicide-and reading a page in his head. He hums softly before speaking, "They drink metal plating to kill themselves overseas, huh?" He reads in his head while him and the older man look around a bit, "but wait it melts down their organs while they're still alive? yuck, glad I never tried that." He says his voice calm and smooth.
He stops at the bottom of some stairs. "Hey did you know about that? Mr...uhhh" The older man walks down the stairs a few steps towards Dazai as he finally says his name "it's Hirotsu, I'll keep that fact in mind, thank you." The old man now introduced as Hirotsu thinks in his head, "This is the boy who was with the boss, when the previous boss passed away. I shouldn't underestimate him"
Dazai gasps looking at something in the book. Hirotsu speaks his tone cool and calming, yet claiming attention, "Dazai"
Dazai answers, his voice curious. "Yes?"
"This area is in a bit of conflict, you should be careful." Hirotsu says, his voice calm as if discussing the weather. Dazai closes his book and curiously askes "How so?", Hirotsu answers him his voice gaining a little edge. "The Port Mafia is currently pitted against 3 organisations. 1st Takasiki, 2nd GSS, and finally an army comprised of entirely juveniles referred to as The Sheep which-"
Dazai's phone rings as Hirotsu is talking and he interrupts Hirotsu, "The boss is calling." Dazai answers the phone holding the flip phone to his ear, "What's up? mhm I've learned a few things, long story short, I found the whereabouts of the previous boss" He smirks sharply. "Looks like he came back, straight from the pits of hell. Mhm. I'll give you a proper report when we get ba-" He's cut off as a black and red thing hits him. "What was that?" Hirotsu says, his voice slightly panicked.