Chapter Text
Footsteps sounded through the building, signifying the late arrival of two guests. The two paused in the entrance. When a few strays inside the building spotted them, they greeted them with a respect earned through experience. The guests made their way through the main lobby, to one of the many elevators situated on the side, and down a hall that little have been known to walk down and come back in one piece; alive.
The majority of the building was illuminated solely by fluorescent lights, casting a sickly light on everyone down below. (Considering where they were, everyone probably was sick, just not in the physical way.) The lights stung to view, causing many to blink more than usual.
If you look at them long enough, you’d start to see dots of many intricate colors plaguing your vision every time you’d blink. Though, the two walking through now had grown used to it, and paid little attention to the pattern covering their peripherals.
The taller silhouette stepped up to the door first, speeding up the farther down the hall he got.
As for the smaller one, he followed in suit, sliding into position on the right side and steadying his gaze towards the door.
The taller eyed his partner with the other giving a glare, saying to not do whatever he was going to do.
He ignored him, giving the vertically challenged man a twisted smile, and instead of reaching out for the handle, the taller man stepped back and kicked the door open with the force of his black dress shoe.
“Boo Hoo! I’m simply being worked to the bone, and no one is ever going to help me!” He said, dramatically falling onto his partner,
“Oh shut up, asshole,” the latter whispered, throwing the brown haired idiot off of him. He brought his attention to the man sitting in front of the two, he didn’t look impressed with their behavior.
If Dazai kept this act up, he was afraid their boss would have a head full of grey hair within the next year, he probably wanted that though.
“You just don’t get it! I have simply too much paper work on my hands, and to top it all off, we still have to go on missions! And, I have to do them with you.”
“Now, Dazai-kun, surely it’s not that bad.” Their boss, Mori sighed, “Plus, don’t you make Chuuya do all your paper work?”
“He sure as hell does!”
“Yeah, but that’s not the important part! I don’t want to go to a stupid school filled with stupid people. Chuuya won’t even be there with me, so I can’t annoy him at all!”
“Oi-” Chuuya exclaimed, ready to scold his partner, to demand answers, only to be cut off by his boss.
“Now, Now, I get your complaints, but there is a reason for this,” he brought out a brown envelope, setting it out for them, he continued, “These are your mission details, it should include everything from housing, to cover stories. We can’t have you messing up this time, or the Port Mafia will go down in flames. The flimsy truce between Yokohama and the rest of Japan has been weighing thin. If one more thing happens that tests that boundary, I’m afraid the heroes from outside will start swarming.”
By now, Dazai had completely diverted his attention, favoring a bird outside the window. It had kept slamming its body into the window, over and over and over.
Stupid bird.
He knows that they can’t see the glass, but does it really have to keep ramming itself in the same spot? It could at least try somewhere different, you know?
The window covered the entirety of the left side of the room, giving him a full view of the city below, and the stupid bird.
“What do those credulous, spandex wearing disappointments have to do with us?” Chuuya half joked, ignoring the constant slamming of the bird. Well, trying to.
Mori looked at the two, his gaze going back and forth. With half a person listening, he decided to continue, seeing as this is all he would get.
“These heroes have been trying to get into our security system, and no, we do not know their motives as well as how they are doing it.
That is where you two come in,”
He had gotten their attention, “Dazai, I’m stationing you under the guidance of UA, a top hero school.
You’ll be going undercover within the majority of the first year students. That way, you’ll have a close view on future heroes as well as the HPSC, which have been causing us quite the trouble throughout our distribution center,”
“Boooo.”
Choosing to turn a blind eye to Dazai, Mori continued, “As for you, Chuuya, you will be with the League of Villains, a very interesting choice of name in my opinion. They’re an uprising criminal organization with the goal of taking out Japan’s symbol of peace.
You will infiltrate, and collapse them from the inside out. Your main goal is to see what they have to do with the UA class, 1-A, which the class Dazai will be stationed in during your stay.”
“Sounds like any easy mission, is that really all there is to it?” Chuuya questioned, picking up the envelope that their boss had previously set down.
“You stupid dog, of course it’s not that easy. With how things are, we’ll be on this mission for at least 4 months, maybe even longer depending on how bad you are with the LOV.” Dazai teased, trying to get a reaction.
Chuuya scoffed, “If anything, you’ll be the one to mess up, and I’ll have to pick your sorry ass up.”
“Maybe, but considering where we’re both going, I have the harder part. I have to infiltrate a top hero school, and scout out the HPSC. All you have to do is play bad guy with a couple of babies.”
“Just make sure you don’t scare the kids at UA too much; you don’t want to have them ending up in therapy. Just imagine what that’d do to your image.”
Dazai sighed, swiping the envelope away from Chuuya’s grasp, “If that happens, I’ll just have you put the school five feet in the ground.” He briefly looked through their files before tossing back over to the heterochromatic teen.
“Of course you’d have me do it, just goes to show how useless you really are.”
“The dog says what?” Dazai gasped.
“I am not your dog! For the last time, stop calling me that, or I’ll put you five feet underground!”
Chuuya lunged at him, “Ah! The dog is rabid! Ow- Someone call pest control!”
The two teens bickered the whole way out, behind them, Mori could feel wrinkles forming.
Their arguments were going to get them in serious trouble one day, it may not be today, or even in a year, but something was going to go wrong with those two, Mori could feel it.
June 2, 20XX 0530 hrs (5:30)
Chuuya made his way out of his apartment, in a hurry, struggling to fit everything into a single backpack.
That was all he was allowed to bring with him; the rest he would buy when there. Walking towards the sleek, black car waiting for him, his footsteps slowed down, pausing to take in everything.
That car was going to take him to Musutafu, a city plagued by heroes, villains, and an obnoxious black and white way of thinking.
He took off his sunglasses and pulled through into the long car.
Everyone there had such a clear idea of who was bad and who was good. If you stole, killed, or harmed people, you were bad. If you upheld the law and got rid of these ‘villains,’ you were a hero.
Everyone turned a blind eye to those stealing to survive. With no money to depend on, they won’t survive unless they steal.
But, that is in a part of the grey that nobody is willing to tackle.
In their eyes, Chuuya himself would be a villain. He stole more than anyone could ever comprehend, not to mention he’s killed people. With his time in the Sheep he not only had to steal for himself, but he had a whole ‘family’ to provide for. They relied on him for food and shelter.
His eyes had been beset by eyebags, carving under his skin, making itself known.
Boy, he just couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to spend an unknown amount of time in an unknown town, with nobody but that shit-head to talk to.
They weren’t even going to the same place, but Chuuya could already feel a headache coming on. Dazai would somehow find a way to torment him, no doubt about it.
The legroom inside was gracious.
It was more than the usual car would have, he could actually stretch his legs out.
Now, if Dazai were here, he would joke and say it was because he was so short. He wasn’t even that short!
(He’s the average height of a woman in Japan.)
And it’s not like that idiot is much taller than him, he's only about an inch above him, if even that! Chuuya propped his elbow on the rim of the car window, putting his head in his hand, he sighed.
It was going to be a long time before he saw the skyline of Yokohama again, so he might as well take in as much as he can while he still has time.
The sun had barely risen above the horizon, giving the sky an arrangement of colors that oddly looked like cotton candy.
Not that he’d ever had any, but he’d heard about it. A sugary treat that melts right in your mouth.
The clouds had adopted the colors that surrounded it, turning an oddly shaded pink. ‘Whatever,’ he thought, turning his body away from the window.
He settled on watching the birds pass overhead for the rest of the drive to Musutafu, where he would be mentally tortured for the foreseeable future.
June 2, 20XX 2000 hrs (8:00)
Dazai huffed, throwing his suitcase- which contained only 3 items- to the side and bringing his key out of his pocket. Even though he saw that the keyhole was rusted, he ignored it, shoving the key in anyways.
He didn’t get it to click until he fiddled with it for a good 5 minutes, maybe even longer. When he did manage to get it in, he tried to pull it out. Instead of a clean, smooth removal, the lock broke.
Either Mori was on a tight budget, or he wanted him to hate this experience almost as much as he hated the man himself. God, Dazai could die just thinking about him, and he would gladly do so. Out of everything in the entire world, hating Mori was the only thing both him and Elise could get behind.
I mean, who could ever like a man with a personality as rotten as a piece of rotting tomato? He was like a liquified, fermented pile of poop.
Like a clumpy wheel of cheese that’s only good on one side. Actually, scratch that, the cheese wouldn’t be good on either side if it were him.
Dazai glanced at the doorknob before reaching down his hand to touch the same spot. When he pulled back on it, trying to open the door, it wouldn’t move one inch, even when putting all his weight on it.
Seeing as taking a soft approach wouldn’t work, Dazai stepped back, away from the door. He braced his shoulder and ran forward.
He felt it deeply when he hit the door, so much so that he was surprised when it didn’t break.
It should've, but then again, when was anything easy for the Black Wraith?
The most feared mafioso throughout the country can’t even get a door to open; imagine that. All of this is-again-Mori’s fault; it always is.
He’s an easy guy to blame, especially in situations where Dazai is involved. If Dazai was in charge, he would make sure the man was dead in the next year, preferably right in front of him. That’ll be fun.
He’ll get popcorn and a thick cozy blanket just to watch the man wriggling in agony; he could even invite Chuuya along! Dazai wasn’t sure if he’d want to watch something as gruesome as that, but you know what they say! The more the merrier.
Ahh…. Fun times, fun times.
Back to the problem at hand, how was he going to get inside? Dazai gets that he’s supposed to be playing a self-pitying orphan in poverty, but isn’t this a little extreme?
The building is literally falling apart, and there’s probably rats crawling around everywhere. It’s even worse than his shipping container!
And that’s saying something; not much can beat that hell-hole of a house.
Chuuya can vouch for him, he hates where he lives with a burning passion, says it's unsanitary and only a person like him could live there and not die.
Well, jokes on him, he does want to die.
In an attempt to get in, he hit the window with a spare gun he had on him, the barrel slammed into his reflection.
It shattered almost instantly; glass shards shone in the evening light, casting a rainbow hue that surrounded the bandaged teen.
Annoyed by the colors, he stepped through where the glass once was, finally making his way into his new house (if you could even call it that)
Dazai’s feet fell to the ground with a soft tap, adding noise to the ambiance that had taken hold of the perimeter.
He set down his bag on the floor, ignoring the way it tipped over, spilling rolls of bandages all over the floor. Dazai glanced around the room and stepped forward, making his way around the kitchen island.
He grazed his fingers atop the surface.
When he pulled away, his fingers were covered in a thick coating roused in a combination of dust, lint, and flakes falling off the ceiling.
Dazai wiped the dust onto his pant leg and moved over to a light switch sitting on the wall behind the island. When he pushed it, the overhead lights flickered, then settled down into a dull, warm hue of amber. With a newfound light, and now being able to see better, he took in the severity of the apartment. It had water stains running down almost all of the walls, and a corner of the kitchen was folding in on itself. If the house fell in the middle of the night, he would surely die, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it did with how bad this place is.
The flooring was made up of a combination of different wood variants, with some of them rotting away, giving way to a type of mold Dazai chose to ignore for his own sanity.
When Dazai walked through the area where supposedly a couch was supposed to be, a rat scurried across the floor.
He lifted his foot up in disgust and made his way to a separate side room. He entered the room, and upon stepping around the curve of the door, he gasped.
He sure wasn’t expecting anything of the sort- maybe a broken mattress laid down in the middle of the floor, being taken over by 10 different species of bacteria and a variant assortment of bacteria, but what he saw was the complete opposite.
The walls were white-a stark contrast to before-and there wasn’t one blemish in sight. The bed was set on a dark wooden frame, intricate patterns carved in the head.
It had a comforter of dark blue, and when Dazai pulled back the cover, it had sheets of grey that seemed to never end.
It was such a surprise to him that out of everything in this place, where he would be sleeping was the best one.
Did the Chibi organize this? No, he wouldn’t care enough to, that was simply out of the question.
Dazai pulled the sheets back to their prior position and made his way over to the window on the other side of the bed.
The sun had plummeted a long way since his arrival, it was now giving off a maroon hue, hitting the bed, turning it slightly purple. He looked at it with disgust. The red was infecting the perfect blue; it was ugly now; red and blue did not go together.
It simply did not work like that, you could argue, tell him that on the color wheel they have a triadic relationship, but Dazai still wouldn’t listen to you no matter how hard you pushed.
You wouldn’t even be talking about the same thing, so it was pretty pointless to even try.
He flung his overcoat onto a nearby stool, kicked off his shoes, and jumped onto the bed with his back facing the ceiling. Dazai grumbled, shifting his weight; he brought his hand up. He stretched it down his face, eventually rubbing his eye.
He would be joining the class of 1-A two weeks before their summer break started, which seemed like a stupid mistake on Mori’s part, but it was actually one of the more tactical placements he’s put together.
During the summer, the first years would be offered the opportunity to go to a summer training camp if they passed their first term exam. He would join before that, secure a spot in the training camp, and observe from there. Dazai would have to gain the trust of not only the students, but the teachers who also acted as pro heroes within civilization.
So he could use this opportunity as leverage.
Ahh…
This also meant that he would be able to see his favorite dog soon!
It’s quite obvious that the League of Villains would strike the students at camp, a move that was over the top predictable, even for them. Dazai did his research beforehand and studied the LOV’s patterns of attack.
It was a boring chore Mori made him do, and it’s not like he learned anything new that he didn’t already know beforehand.
They basically just took any opportunity they had and plunged headfirst without a plan to carry them through to the end.
That’s why they were failing so much; they had nothing to work with. Hopefully with Chuuya there, that will change.
If their plan goes smoothly, the LOV should reach a breakthrough with their wins before they seep into discord and lack the ability to trust one another; always suspecting one another.
They would be constantly on guard for a traitor, and fail to pick out the real one, who would be eating away at them from the inside, like a rat.
But then again, Chuuya was more of a dog than a rat; he wasn’t that much of a pest.
Eh.
Maybe.
Dazai pulled his body up and off of his bed, making his way over to the window, the light shining, making its way through the pane of glass. He reached out and grabbed the middle point of the curtains, the fabric folded under his grip.
It drooped down, covering his hands.
He grunted and pulled the curtains towards his body, closing them in the process.
Dazai didn’t want any more red insinuating onto his bed, it had already taken hold of his daily life, he didn’t need any more of it.
Dazai was getting sick and tired of red.
If even for one day, he didn’t see the color red, he would praise those gods in the sky that everyone praised so reverently.
When the day he never has to see that color again comes, he’ll celebrate past his heart's content.
Making a point to himself, Dazai smirked to himself, proud of himself in the moment. Though, it didn’t last long.
Now with his room plunged into darkness, he stood there, not moving.
As his dull eyes- that have been known to strike fear into others-slowly adjusted to the limited light, he made out various shapes and forms across his vision.
They danced around in the occupied space around him; when Dazai blinked, they suddenly went back into place from where they had been stationed previously.
Not only that, but blotches of colors showed up, where he would have to blink them away just to see through them, and to the wall.
Maybe not sleeping for three days really did have an effect on his vision.
Well, he knew that, but it was still a weird phenomenon to experience firsthand.
It felt as though he just ate a small portion of an Amanita Muscaria.
You know, those weird red mushrooms that look like they’ve been taken straight out of a Mario game.
Dazai could imagine the spotted mushrooms as though he had taken a picture and was now viewing it whole; in his hands.
He sighed out a breath of frustration, wobbling over to his bed, tripping over his own feet in the process.
He was now back to where he was seconds ago, in the same position the brunette previously was, lying down.
Dazai shifted onto his side, feeling a distant weight behind his eyes that pulled his eyelids closed; he couldn’t keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds; his body wouldn’t allow him to.
Realizing he couldn’t resist the lull of sleep, he gave in, letting his body relax, as well as his mind.
Although he was exhausted, the boy did not sleep at all that night. He couldn’t, not without the comfort of another body beside him.