Chapter Text
The summons arrives without any sort of urgency, that brings Chuuya hope that just maybe this won’t be that important of a mission, a Black Lizard subordinate waits at the edge of the training hall, posture straight, with his eyes respectfully lowered.
“Executive Nakahara,” they say, voice slightly shaky but his overall compose was kept quite well. “The Boss requests your presence.”
Chuuya casually wipes the blood from his knuckles with a small cloth as he exhales quietly. “Yeah. I’m on my way, thank you.”
Mori Ōgai’s office remains as uncomfortable and isolating as always. Sterile white walls. The soft hum of hidden machinery. The faint, ever-present scent of antiseptic that makes the air feel too clean to breathe properly, should be comforting but instead brings a strong sense of unease.
Elise sits on the floor nearby, legs folded as she hums to herself, coloring with meticulous yet casual focus, Mori however stands near the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out into the distance.
“Chuuya-kun,” Mori says without turning. “You’re early. How very reassuring.” Chuuya inclines his head, moving to hold his hands clasped behind his back respectfully. “You called for me, Boss.” Mori turns at last, smiling pleasantly. “Yes. Please, sit.”
Chuuya does, with his back straight and his expression neutral. He knows better than to relax here.
“You’re familiar with Musutafu, correct..?” Mori begins casually, waiting for Chuuya to briefly nod before continuing. “A city built on admiration and spectacle. On the belief that power exists to be seen and shown off.” Chuuya doesn’t respond. “They call themselves heroes,” Mori continues, fingers resting lightly on the desk. “How quaint. A profession founded on intervention. On the assumption that if suffering exists, it must be corrected by an outsider.”
Elise looks up. “They sound noisy.” “They are,” Mori agrees fondly. Then his gaze sharpens as it returns to Chuuya. “And these noisy hero’s happen to have grown curious about us.” Chuuya’s eyes narrow. “They are thinking of interfering in Yokohamas matters?” Mori chuckles softly. “Precisely.”
He gestures out toward the window he was previously gazing out of. “Yokohama sealed itself away not out of fear, but preference. We do not require oversight. Nor do we desire rescue. But Musutafu seems to be finding independence increasingly troubling.”
“So they’re coming anyway,” Chuuya says.
“Yes.” Mori’s smile thins. “Soon.” Silence envelops them before it is broken after a brief moment.
“They intend to breach the city under the guise of humanitarian aid,” Mori continues. “An operation to ‘liberate’ civilians from villain control. A noble fantasy.” Chuuya scoffs quietly. “Morons.”
“Mm. But very useful ones.”
Mori steps closer, his shadow stretching across the floor almost ominously. “The heroes require evidence to justify their actions. A narrative, somebody they can point to and say, Well this is why we were right.”
Chuuyas chest tightens, he can already feel the headache forming. This is definitely not going to be a short mission is it?
“You,” Mori says gently, “will be that narrative.”
“…You want me to be kidnapped and taken to the hero school correct? Is that what you’re implying..?” Chuuya says slowly “Rescued, not taken.” Mori corrects. “Language matters.” Elise tilts her head. “Is Chuuya going to have to cry like a little baby?”
Chuuya grimaces. God he hopes not, but he does need to brush up on his acting skills. Mori laughs quietly. “Not much hopefully,” Mori says. “Trauma is far more convincing when it’s restrained, afterall.” He leans forward, voice register lowering. “You will be present when the heroes first break into Yokohama, not as an executive. But as a child who has learned that trusting others leads to pain, as a great distraction.”
Chuuya clenches his jaw. “You will hesitate,” Mori continues. “And you will ‘doubt’ them. You will recoil from their promises of safety. And you will make them work for your compliance.” “And then?” Chuuya asks.
“And then you shall wait for further instructions,” Mori says. A pause. “And Dazai?” Chuuya asks quietly, he was unsure as he had never been on a big mission without Dazai before. Mori’s eyes gleam.
“Ah,” he says. “I was wondering when you’d ask.” He straightens, hands folding behind his back once more.
“He is… elsewhere currently. However he will join you eventually, his role will be less significant though.” Chuuya exhales through his nose. “Ah, this was his idea, wasn’t it?”
Mori hums. “He contributed. As he so often does.” Chuuya mutters something under his breath that definitely isn’t respectful. Mori ignores it. “You will not seek him out,” Mori says calmly. “He will contact you when the time is right.” Chuuya nods slowly. “What kind of performance shall I put on?” Mori’s voice softens. “A boy who has been used by adults his entire life. A boy who believes strength is the only thing keeping him alive. A boy who does not trust safety when it is offered freely.”
Chuuya’s hands curl into fists. “And you will succeed,” Mori adds lightly, “because none of that is entirely untrue.” Chuuya stands, bowing deeply. “I understand, Boss.”
Mori studies him for a long moment with an unreadable expression. “Remember,” he says at last, “heroes do not save people. They save stories. Give them the one they want, and they will never question who is really in control.” Chuuya turns toward the door.
“Oh, Chuuya-kun,” Mori calls after him.
He pauses. “Trust no one, except Dazai for this mission” Mori says softly. “Not even when they insist it’s for your own good, not even when they are orders.” Chuuya lets out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Sounds easy enough.” It was an ominous request but what could he really do? The door closes behind him.