Chapter Text
Nobody likes Kenzo. Everyone likes Niko. In their eyes, Kenzo was a stupid, grinning little shit, who was nothing compared to Niko.
Both of them started in the mafia, though… Kenzo was kicked out. Why? He was being rude to the Port Mafia’s little angel, Niko. If Niko is an angel, someone has to be the Demon, whether they wanted it or not. The only reason he made it out alive, was because Niko begged everyone to not kill him.
Wasn’t much better in the ADA. Nobody talked to him, he was assigned gruesome, often dangerous or tedious tasks to do alone, and always felt a sharp gaze at the back of his head, which, even though he doesn’t show it, he absolutely despises. As much as he likes to slack off, he cannot, because everyone is looking for the smallest reason to dismiss him.
THWACK
Kenzo stared into Mori’s eyes, gaze unwavering as the older man stared at him with something that was akin to quiet fury. He wasn’t scared, no, not at all. Even though the head of the Mafia had backhanded him. Quite frankly, he was annoyed. His right cheek, which already started to bloom across the affected area, a raging red contrasting his tan skin, akin to brown sugar. He already had bruising on his ribs, and red marks on his neck. What a pain…
Breaking eye contact, his eyes shift to someone’s shaking shoulders, their face buried in Mori’s back. He was sure his boss would burst a blood vessel, his eyebrows furrowed, and yet his volume was level, and he still kept a grin on his face. He is quite obviously angry, his lips curled into someone malicious.
The shaking shoulders belonged to a young man named Niko. Kenzo was a year older than him, but the younger one was taller than he. At 17, Kenzo was around 170 cm, maybe shorter, not the tallest, but the man, also 17, and 185 cm. Though, even with his height, his countenance was often compared to with an angel. Baby blue hair that was fairly neat and relatively short, frequently said to be his halo, but a longer, loose strand fell on the left side of his face. Big, brown eyes which presently, were filled with tears, that somehow managed to make all of the Port Mafia fall under his “naïve” charm. Niko’s eyes remind Kenzo of his own, when he was 15. Even though they are the same age, Dazai sees him as someone younger than him.
Though, his eyes were currently obscured by Mori’s frame, as if Kenzo had no right to even look at him.
Right. Kenzo was technically the reason he was crying. Personally, he didn’t think he did anything wrong. Yeah, Kenzo isn’t a saint, obviously, but he’s not that cruel (he is), at least not right now. He was just… blunt, and tired.
20 minutes earlier
Niko and Chuuya were talking in the hallway, taking up a considerable amount of space. Multiple lower-ranking members had attempted to pass, but immediately backed off before they had the chance to say anything, due to Chuuya’s glare making them back off. Though, when Kenzo approached, he wasn’t a big fan of going the other way. He wasn’t in the mood that day, feeling awfully tired from Mori’s long rant about Niko. The only responses Kenzo gave were short, tepid ones.
Kenzo tapped Niko on the shoulder.
“Move,” Kenzo requested monotonously. But, Niko seemingly didn’t hear or feel Kenzo, continuing to talk to Chuuya passionately.
The look on Chuuya’s face—the fondness immediately disappeared, a nasty glare appearing on his face. Nastier than the ones he gave to his subordinates trying to pass.
Most people who know Kenzo know he isn’t very patient. Before Chuuya can do anything, Kenzo’s hand lands on the side of Niko’s arm, and he prodded him to the side. Not strong, just enough to move him out of the way. But apparently, Kenzo had massive muscles because he worked out every day. No, no, definitely wasn’t pretty thin, barely crossing the line that qualifies him to be classified as lean. Yes, none of that was true, because his light push had somehow made Niko stumble, and slam his head into the wall.
A silence falls between the three, louder than any noise.
“…”
“…”
Kenzo blinks. ‘Eh?’ Seconds later, a sob erupts from Niko’s lips, his hands holding his head.
“Owh…” Niko mumbled, his mumble akin to a whine.
Rapidly, Chuuya sprinted towards him, checking if Niko was alright.
“Are you okay? Let me see, Angel…”
After Chuuya helped Niko to his feet, making sure he was okay, even though he was still sniffling, Chuuya’s hand left Niko’s back and fell to his side. His gaze landed on Kenzo, who was… beginning to leave, with that stupid, blank look on his face.
Before Kenzo could process the quick footsteps behind him, a hard, fist slammed into his ribs. Pain exploded through his body, travelling up his spine. He let out a choked gasp, leaning against the wall. Glancing up, his eyes leaving the floor, he sees Chuuya, seething and breathing heavily.
“You… You BASTARD!” Chuuya screams. “What makes you think you have the right after hurting him?! You’re disgusting…”
Kenzo stares, staying silent for a few beats. A smug grin slowly appears on his face. “... No way. When did you get so soft, Chuu-ya-kunnn~? This is the Port Mafia. If that guy can’t handle a nudge, he isn-”
He wasn’t even able to finish that thought before Chuuya lunges at him, his fingers curling around the taller one’s neck.
“Shut it! You’re disgusting, trying to make excuses for your own faults!”
His own fingers curl around the smaller ones, trying to pry them off his neck before he passes out. Chuuya is small, yes, but everyone knows not to underestimate him.
A lower ranking member was alerted by the noise, and froze when he saw it. Panicked, he went and told Mori. At first, the boss didn’t care much.
“Kenzo always starts fights. Leave them be, it’ll resolve on it’s own.”
But, when he heard Niko had a part in this, his expression changed almost imperceptibly. His usual, unsettling grin twitched as he abruptly stood up.
“I see… Hurry and bring Kenzo. Niko too. Make haste, please.”
Current time.
Kenzo snapped out of his daydream when he felt someone grab his chin harshly, forcing him to look at the culprit. The hands are soft, no calluses, yet the grip is tight and punishing.
“Have you been listening, Kenzo? You are no longer welcome here,” Mori’s smile had now dropped, replaced with a cold, calculating look, “I want you out by tomorrow, do not disappoint me.”
Kenzo blinks. ‘Out? Me? On such a short notice? Ah…’ He does not say anything, instead, stares at Mori silently. He fails to hide the smirk on his face as he shrugs. He even giggled a little. Is he insane?
Mori’s anger slightly deflates. Yes, he is still angry, but… Kenzo’s eyes look so dull. Even though he smirks, why is it empty? And why is he giggling? For a moment, he is lost. Before he can do anything, Kenzo gazes at Niko, taking not at how he is also peeking, his tears close to gone, and he turns on his heel.
Gone.
Kenzo was gone.
Shortly after, he went to the ADA. His colleagues thought he was weird, but didn’t have much of a problem with him. Kenzo was happy with his position. The detectives were nice, and the man with glasses… Kunikida? After Kenzo passed his entrance exam, he was fun to bother.
Everything was going so well. Too well.
That changed in less than a week.
Kenzo was sick. Just a small cold, so he took a week off. Regular people could recover in 3 to 4 days, but Kenzo was not a regular person. His immune system was shit. He had his own apartment, his conditions were more than liveable now, but in the past, when he was much younger, his conditions weren’t as lucky. As a result, there were long-term effects to this.
He often still has coughing fits from time to time, similar to Akutagawa. Whenever he becomes sick, it lasts much longer than it would to a regular person. In fact, it also has more of a toll on them. He definitely has some underlying health issues, but he won’t be getting them checked anytime soon. He doesn’t like doctors. Reminds him of Mori, eugh. But the Port Mafia was in the past.
Right?
When he returns to work that week, he pauses when he enters. The air seems more lively? What had happened when he was gone?
He walked to his desk, but the air goes cold. He glances around, only to see everyone glaring at him, with disdain, barely concealed anger, or both.
Kenzo raised an eyebrow, about to ask someone why the environment seems so hostile. Specifically to him, when his eyes land on a familiar bluenette…
Niko.
Smiling, he sits at the desk of Ranpo, chatting away happily while Ranpo sits on the desk, entertains him. Unlike the detective… Very unlike him, especially with new-hires.
Again
He is not stupid. Not stupid enough to wonder why everyone is angry, and not stupid enough to ask. It’s obvious at this point. While he was gone, Niko had gone to the ADA, and with his charismatic, sweet charm, everyone fell for him easily. And… He had probably let something slip about Kenzo. No way this sweet boy could lie. Whatever was said, they seem to think suits his character. And, so, all the growing relationships Kenzo had with anyone shifted.
Kenzo is also petty. He will not reach out to anyone that is upset with him, instead wanting them to approach him first. He is not the type to apologize, especially for something like this. And he is not the type to break first, not anymore.
And in so, Kenzo clocks into work everyday, does whatever he wants on the papers he is given (usually just does origami), and ignores everyone and their glares, even if they unsettle him.
Though, something lingers in his mind.
‘Why?’
‘Why is Niko here?’