Chapter Text
Things weren't going according to plan. The situation was tense, and Chuuya was torn between smashing everything around him and running home with a bottle of fine wine. He'd rather be anywhere else than here.
But most of all, he wanted to kill Dazai. That bastard would have been only too happy about that outcome. And that's what was holding him back.
It seemed the problems had begun long before this moment. Meeting Dazai already implies a problem. It doesn't matter whether you interact with him or are simply somewhere nearby.
But at the root, all the circumstances were stacked against them from the start.
That's why Chuuya stood on the roof of the building, clenching his fists helplessly. His gaze was fixed on only one person. Dazai stood on the other side, but not alone. Pressed close, a man from the enemy organization held a pistol to Chuuya's temple, his other hand tightly wrapped around his neck. The man's eyes were filled with rage, and Chuuya was experiencing the same feelings. It felt like his blood was boiling, and Arabaha's voice was echoing in his skull. If not for the predicament Dazai and this man were in, Chuuya would have given in to his corruption long ago.
They swayed slightly. Chuuya couldn't tell if it was because of the wind, which cut right to the bone, or because of the wounds, which were clearly present, judging by the pool of blood pooled on the floor. It was unclear which of the two had sustained the wounds. But even if the enemy bled out, they would fall off the roof. And Dazai's ability wasn't helping them at all. It had never been so inconvenient.
In short, they were clearly in deep shit. Really deep shit.
Chuuya didn't even know who to blame for this incident. He could have made a whole list of those who were somehow involved. A few weeks ago, Mori had summoned them to his office as usual.
Dazai and Chuuya hadn't gone on any missions together for a while. This must have irritated Mori. He liked to send the duo on even simple missions, to remind the organizations of the mafia's power. It was all more show than necessary.
Chuuya had just recently returned from a short business trip and, frankly, would have preferred a good rest. He wanted to visit Kouya or just spend the day alone. But the boss's orders, of course, were not up for discussion.
Dazai, standing next to him, looked no less tired. Although he always looked like he was about to return from the dead. That wasn't far from the truth. Chuuya had already heard about another suicide attempt while on a business trip. Not that it surprised him. He'd asked Akutagawa for details yesterday, but hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary. Another overdose; what was more surprising was how Dazai managed to find such drugs in such quantities. Mori was keeping an eye on it. In any case, nothing stopped Dazai from heading off to the Lupin Bar for a late-night hangout. Chuuya thought he'd be better off sleeping.
Mori handed the folder to Dazai, who looked at it with disinterest.
"This mission is very important to the Port Mafia," — Mori said, looking closely at Chuuya, for some reason ignoring Dazai. The tension in the room was palpable. Chuuya usually tried not to dwell on the relationship between Dazai and his boss. It was strange. Very strange. In some ways, they resembled student and teacher, guardian and ward, boss and subordinate. But despite this, they disliked each other. In Dazai's case, Chuuya could come up with any number of reasons. But why Mori was so wary of the once 15-year-old was strange.
"A new organization appeared out of nowhere, and it's rapidly gaining power. The people there are ambitious," —Mori continued, a shadow crossing his face. — "We mustn't allow the mafia's influence to be questioned."
"But what exactly should we do? Just destroy it?" — Chuuya accepted the folder of documents from Dazai and skimmed through it. The organization was indeed potentially dangerous. First, it was founded by religious fanatics, which was bad. Such people were stubborn, insane, and easily manipulated. They would do anything for their faith. Working with cult-like entities was always unpleasant. Second, relatively little was known about the organization. The speaker encouraged people to follow him, but the leader was unknown. Judging by the information, to meet him, you'd have to be a cult member. And an advanced one at that.
A bad feeling washed over Chuuya.
"For God's sake, you wouldn't send us to infiltrate the cult, would you?" — Dazai pursed his lips and peered closely at Mori's face. Something unspoken passed between them again, something Chuuya didn't understand — "We clearly don't look like religious parishioners; it's simply ridiculous."
"I could simply order the destruction of this organization," —Mori said calmly. — "But we know practically nothing. The leader of the cult could escape and cause us much more trouble than we have now. And is undercover work really that difficult for the legendary duo?"
"But infiltrating the cult really won't be easy; judging by the intel, it's quite secretive,"— Chuuya said thoughtfully. He, too, didn't understand his boss's decision. Of course, he and Dazai had worked undercover before, but this assignment was far too specific.
"On the contrary, I think you'll be able to get close to the head of the cult," — Mori peered thoughtfully out the window and paused.— "You're young, and children are easily manipulated, especially since you come from dysfunctional families." — As he spoke, Mori glanced at Dazai, who raised his eyebrows indignantly — "The cult loves to lure people like that."
Chuya couldn't deny that Dazai, at the very least, certainly resembled a teenager from a dysfunctional family. Chuya had become more presentable during his time in the mafia. He tried to take care of his appearance. However, if you looked at the core, it was quite the opposite. Chuya's behavior revealed echoes of life in the slums. His mannerisms, certain nonverbal cues, his intonation—all of this could have revealed something about his past. Dazai, however, was a completely different story. Chuuya didn't know about his past, but it was clear that Dazai had been with Mori for some time before they met. Even before he became the boss. But if you looked closely, Dazai carried himself like an aristocrat. His gait, his knowledge of etiquette, his gestures—everything was pretentious, as if he'd been honing it for years. It didn't suit Dazai's personality, which is why it sometimes seemed odd.
But overall, they really did look like poor street kids. This could definitely work.
"Well, since everyone understands," — Mori smiled sweetly and clapped his hands, — "you're free to go. Hirotsu will give you a ride, and Kouyou will get you some suitable clothes. And yes, come up with a plausible story."
When they left the office, the tense atmosphere dissipated slightly. Dazai sighed theatrically, pressing his hand to his chest.
"Is the old man completely crazy, infiltrating a cult?"— I think there are people who have handled this much better than us. Especially since the chibi is such a bad actor, we wouldn't be able to last a day there.
"I doubt you'll even be able to enter a church," — Chuuya rolled his eyes — "I can't even imagine how long a Demonic Prodigy would have to atone for his sins. Eternity wouldn't be enough for that."
"I hear that from the vessel of an ancient god,"— Dazai sneered, striding quickly through the corridors of the port mafia — "Mori definitely chose the wrong people."
"Speaking of Mori, what happened between you two? The atmosphere was so intense that even I felt uneasy," — Chuuya shuddered. Asking about the reasons wasn't exactly wise. Dazai would either laugh it off or take it badly. You never know what to expect with that man.
"Nothing new,"— Dazai dismissed, but a strange emotion flickered across his face. This made Chuuya frown. It was odd. Usually, Dazai was either simply angry at Mori or ignoring him. But this emotion didn't resemble those mentioned. Well, they must be having a fight, there's no other explanation. Maybe that last suicide attempt had an effect, who knows.
"Okay, in any case, we need to come up with a story," —Dazai changed the subject, approaching the elevators. He pressed the button for the first floor and leaned leisurely against the wall — "Judging by everything, the members of this organization are not stupid. We won't be able to come up with some ridiculous story. I'm sure the higher-ups already suspect the mafia's infiltration. The mafia has been occupying very valuable positions lately, and Mori likes to show off its power."
"Yes, but we mustn't overdo it. It's important for us to blend in, but still play the role of stupid and gullible teenagers," —Chuuya continued. For some reason, he felt like smoking. They hadn't even started the mission yet, and he was already tired.
"On the one hand, yes, but on the other hand, it's important for us to be useful to them. It's just that stupid kids aren't as valuable as stupid kids with potential." — Dazai didn't even look at Chuuya; something in his behavior was odd. But Chuuya could chalk it up to fatigue after the attempt and, presumably, the argument with Mori that followed. Although Dazai sometimes got moody for no apparent reason. And Chuuya couldn't decide which version of Dazai was harder to interact with.
"So what are you suggesting? Show off your abilities? They probably know about them, and they'll expose us immediately."
"No, we're not supposed to show off our abilities. But pretending to be a kid from a rich family wouldn't be a bad idea. After all, everyone in this world needs money." — The elevator rang, and the doors finally opened. The mafia headquarters was crowded in the morning. Mostly, everyone was busy with their daily routine. Chuuya noticed several of his subordinates chatting amiably near the cafeteria. He suddenly felt the urge to stop at a restaurant. The food at the cult was unlikely to be very good.
"And we also need to decide whether, according to the legend, we knew each other before joining the church?" —Dazai interrupted Chuuya's thoughts, finally stopping near the exit from the headquarters.
"We don't know much about this organization. If we split up, we'll have a better chance of gaining their trust or at least finding out information," — Chuuya said thoughtfully. "But it will also be more dangerous. And don't you find it strange that a child from a wealthy family voluntarily comes to the cult for help and guidance?"
"Just because a family is rich doesn't mean they're prosperous. Sometimes things get weird there."
Passions worse than ordinary families.
"Then I think it's better for you to take on this role; you sound like a spoiled child."
"Hey!" — Dazai glared at Chuuya.— "You should think about your own story. And don't be late tomorrow!" With these words, he left the headquarters and headed off in an unknown direction. Maybe back to the Lupine Bar? Although it's still too early for drinks.
Chuuya sighed heavily and headed for the parking lot. This mission seemed difficult, and a bad feeling lingered. He needed to clear his head at least today.