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Kouyou
Kouyou swept regally into Mori’s office for her weekly meeting and did not come to an abrupt halt at the unexpected sight before her. With the piercing gaze and keen observation of a long-time executive, she realized instantly what the presence of the hooded figure meant, and with the unshakeable poise that was her defining hallmark, she continued moving forward smoothly and settled herself gracefully on the isolated wooden chair in the center of the room. Folding her hands on her lap, she awaited interrogation.
“Good morning, Kouyou,” Mori said smoothly. “It’s been three months since Chuuya left us, and so it is time for the next round of loyalty checks for those on an accelerated schedule.”
“So I assumed,” Kouyou said wryly, fastening her gaze pointedly on the hooded ability user.
“Then let us begin,” Mori said.
Kouyou returned to her office, outwardly composed. Mori’s questions had been far more wide-ranging this time, and his demeanor had been much sharper and more wary. The Boss hadn’t limited himself to inquiries about her loyalty and questions about her willingness to oppose Chuuya should the occasion arise. He had asked detailed, minute questions about every communication she had had with Chuuya since his departure, and Kouyou was grateful that she and Chuuya had taken such care to ensure that all of their interactions were public and vouched for by witnesses, and that she had maintained appropriate discretion in which subjects she had discussed with him. More worrying, however, were his inquiries about her other personal attachments, both to some of her subordinates and especially to Kyouka.
Reaching her office, she closed the door behind her and went to take a seat at her tea table rather than her desk.
I passed the loyalty test, she thought, but Mori is choking up on the reins to an extent that is borderline paranoid. If he continues in this direction, I may have to give up my friendship with Chuuya.
Kouyou reached up and pressed her fingertips to her temples.
Tuesday afternoon, Kouyou carefully took all the Port Mafia documents off her desk in her office at Ozaki House and locked them away in a drawer in preparation for Chuuya’s weekly visit. I wonder how many cat pictures he’s bringing today, she mused.
The door to her office opened and she turned, expecting her assistant with the tea tray.
“Boss,” she greeted Mori, carefully schooling her expression to show neither surprise nor worry. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” She nodded to Elise.
In a voice filled with false friendliness, Mori replied, “Elise and I just thought we would stop by to see how you are doing. Is this an inconvenient time?”
Disregarding Elise’s sadistic smile, Kouyou replied unruffled, “Of course not. Chuuya is scheduled to come to tea with me and should arrive in about five minutes.” As if you don’t know that from my interrogation, she thought. “Would you like me to cancel or reschedule his visit, or would you like to join us for tea? It might be a good opportunity to try to obtain useful information, or failing that, at least foster good relations between our organizations should we need to enlist him - or them,” she said with distaste, “in the future.”
Mori gave a smile that was as genial as it was false. “That sounds like an excellent idea,” he said. “We would be delighted to join you.”
Kouyou gestured them to seats at the tea table. As she began to cross the room to ring for her assistant, the young woman opened the door carrying a laden tea tray. Kouyou smiled warmly at her assistant upon seeing that she had already taken it upon herself to bring two additional cups.
“Excellent,” she said approvingly as the tray was placed on the table. Kouyou glanced at Elise and then turned back to her assistant. “Would you please also see if we have any cake?” she asked. The young woman bowed silently and withdrew.
Chuuya
Chuuya entered the waiting room at Ozaki House and took a seat. In days past, he had been free to go straight to Kouyou’s office upon arrival. But I’m not a Port Mafia executive any more, he thought, and I need to make sure nobody can accuse Kouyou of giving me special treatment or neglecting security around me. He waited patiently, his face composed.
After a couple of minutes, the rear door opened and Kouyou’s assistant Mizuki bowed to Chuuya. He stood and greeted her, and then followed her to Kouyou’s office, careful to look straight ahead so that there could be no accusation of snooping.
Mizuki opened the door to Kouyou’s office, bowing Chuuya inside, and he thanked her and entered to find Kouyou seated at her tea table with Mori and Elise.
Chuuya wasn’t deaf, blind, or foolish. He was well aware that nearly everyone laughed about his open countenance, and the perception that his every thought was displayed on his face, plain for all to see. But what none of them seemed to have realized was that it wasn’t that he was unable to dissemble; it was that he felt no need to do so around his colleagues, as they were all on the same side. It should have been obvious to any who had seen him negotiate with outsiders, but - he’d been an executive for so long, he’d been trusted to handle such negotiations on his own, and as a result few had had the opportunity.
Regardless, the Port Mafia was no longer his home and his family, and no longer had his full trust. And Chuuya had no illusions that Mori had ever liked him personally. Chuuya had been extremely valuable as a tool, and nothing more.
He instantly made a number of calculations.
Stepping closer, he gave a smile that looked completely genuine, and said, “B- Mori, good to see you.” His eyes were completely innocent as he watched the tight lines of Mori’s smile soften infinitesimally in the belief that he’d automatically started to address him as ‘Boss’. “Are you and Elise joining us for tea today, or am I being preempted by business?” He looked back and forth between Kouyou and Mori.
“We happened to come by and Kouyou invited us to join you,” Mori said. “I hope that’s all right.” His smile was like a scalpel.
“Of course,” Chuuya said, taking the open seat. “Kouyou, you’re looking well. Elise, it’s lovely to see you again,” he greeted them exactly as he would have a year ago.
“Thank you, Chuuya. You are looking well yourself,” Kouyou replied.
“You should make your hair green again,” Elise said. “You looked prettier that way.” Mori’s ability had a sadistic streak, but she seemed to be focusing on Kouyou more than him today.
Kouyou began pouring tea with the utmost grace and refinement. “So, Chuuya,” she said, “what have you been up to since we last spoke?”
Chuuya had planned to show his friend more pictures of Storm and Cloud, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to so much as mention his cats, let alone dote upon them, in front of Mori. To increase Kouyou’s credit with Mori, he said, “Well, we had an interesting case recently. Somebody hired the Armed Detective Agency to try to bug a meeting, and the person in charge of the meeting hired us to stop them.” He allowed his self-satisfaction to show in his voice and expression, and deliberately left out the fact that the Agency had still managed to identify the mole, even if they’d failed to breach the meeting security.
“And were you successful?” Mori asked.
“Fu- sorry,” Chuuya apologized to Kouyou for almost swearing, “Heck, yeah, we were successful.” He pretended not to notice Mori’s expression thawing upon hearing that Soukoku had offered a setback to the Agency. He drank some tea and served himself a small pastry. Looking across the table at Elise’s empty plate, he asked Mori’s ability, “Would you not like something to eat?”
Kouyou said, “Mizuki is-” she broke off as the door opened. “Ah, thank you, Mizuki,” she said as her assistant entered and placed a slice of cake in front of Elise, and then bowed herself out.
As Elise dug into her cake, Mori asked, “And have you had occasion to work with the Agency since you departed the Port Mafia?”
Chuuya frowned in thought for a few moments, and then returned his gaze to Mori and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ve had two jobs from the Special Operations Division, and two jobs for you - the missing persons job, and the combat training.” He paused, struck by a thought. “Although there were a couple of emergencies that the Agency didn’t hire us for, but sort of referred to us. A skyjacking where the plane needed to be landed, and a boat accident.” He laughed easily. “Their loss,” he said. “If they’re too dumb to hire us, that’s too bad for them. And too bad for their clients.” Gotta make damn sure I don’t mention Yosano’s involvement in those, he thought. Don’t want to get Mori fixated on her again. His presentation was perfect; he appeared to be the completely transparent, guileless person everyone believed him to be, with no sign that he was actually manipulating his former boss.
Kouyou, however, was one of the few who didn’t underestimate Chuuya’s intelligence, and she took the opening he had presented. “The number of fools and incompetents employed by the Agency is appalling,” she sniffed. “Dazai may have been as much hazard as help, but at least he was competent. Now that he has left them, they will be fortunate indeed if they can handle more than the simplest of cases.” She took a dainty sip of tea.
Chuuya laughed again. “Well, we’ve already stolen one of their big accounts,” he said. “I’ll have to ask Dazai if there are any more we should pick off.” He arranged his face into a look of cunning, watching the shadow of contempt cross Mori’s face as he did so, and asked, “Are we likely to be getting more jobs from the Port Mafia going forward?”
Mori replied airily, “Oh, I’m sure that we will have occasion to take advantage of Soukoku’s services from time to time.” A tiny smirk made itself known as Chuuya visibly deflated at the lackluster response.
Mori took a sip of his tea and said with seemingly mild interest, “I’m surprised to hear you speak so harshly about the Agency. It was my understanding that you were spending a great deal of time socially with them. Particularly with the doctor and her dog.”
Fuck. Chuuya promptly looked sad. “Yeah, well, my social life kind of dried up when I left the Port Mafia,” he said wistfully. “I don’t know whether the guys are just too busy to hang out with me, or whether they don’t trust me any more, but I hardly ever see them. So if I don’t want to be a shut-in, Dazai’s friends are my only option most of the time.” He segued his mask from sad to disgruntled.
Chuuya wasn’t sure where to guide the conversation next. He’d made it look as if he still thought of Mori as Boss, given away information about their recent cases, pointed out that they’d taken two jobs from Mori and none from the Agency, pointed out that they’d already taken a job working against the Agency, publicly derided the Agency and made a point of Dazai having abandoned it as well, made it look like they were hungry for more Port Mafia jobs, and offered cover for his friends at the Port Mafia by indicating they were drawing away. And he’d kept their new furry vulnerabilities out of the spotlight, making them less likely to become targets. I don’t think I can soften him up any more in this sitting. Time to move on. Asking about Port Mafia events was right out, as was asking any more general inquiries about Kouyou’s recent activities, since the latter could be interpreted as the former. Kouyou relieved him of the onus.
“Chuuya, I was very impressed with the decor of your new home. What inspired the floor design in your foyer?” she asked.
Chuuya perked up and was able to handle the topic with the same enthusiasm and frankness that he would have without Mori’s presence. The conversation progressed naturally to a discussion of the color psychology of his paint choices for the various rooms, and on to the furnishings and artwork in their new apartment. Chuuya observed, without appearing to, that Mori quickly grew bored and impatient with the new topics.
By the time that Chuuya had finished his second pastry, he was waxing enthusiastic to Kouyou about picture rail.
“I just thought it was so cool,” he said. “Makes it look like a museum, and you don’t end up with a sh- a bunch of holes in the walls,” he said, censoring the term ‘shit-ton’ in deference to his more refined friend. “What did you think?” he asked Kouyou, and Elise, as uninterested in the topic as it was possible to be, whined petulantly, her annoyance echoed in Mori’s face.
“I thought it an interesting design choice,” Kouyou said. “Since the other moldings-” she stopped abruptly, a reproving look upon her face, as Chuuya’s phone let out a loud alarm sound.
“Shit,” Chuuya said, rising to his feet. “Sorry, I meant… phooey?” he tried, as he unlocked the phone. “It’s the emergency line. Can I use your window?” he asked hurriedly as he answered the phone.
Kouyou looked disapproving, but nodded.
“Whatcha got?” Chuuya said into the phone as he strode toward the window. He unlatched and opened the window. “Yeah, sure, I can do bombs.” Holding the phone against his chest, he turned his head back to Kouyou and pleaded shamefacedly, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” He opened the window and floated through in a red glow, careful not to dirty Kouyou’s windowsill with his shoes. As he raised the phone back to his ear, he shot off into the sky. “Give me the location-” were the last words they heard as he departed.
Mori
Mori held his judgement until he and Elise reached his office. As Elise settled at the table with her crayons, Mori took a seat behind his desk and steepled his hands.
They had no opportunity to collude, he thought. And Kouyou did pass her loyalty test yesterday. She gave out no information about the Port Mafia, and did acquire information about our - adversaries, he decided to call the Agency and Soukoku. And she appeared annoyed at his rude departure.
He decided that Kouyou was still his, and turned his thoughts to Chuuya, his face darkening.
In the immediate aftermath of Ace’s attempted coup, Mori had been resigned to the situation. The Port Mafia had had a truce with Soukoku, and that truce had been broken by the Port Mafia. While the offense had not been committed on his orders or with his knowledge, everything that happened in the Port Mafia was ultimately his responsibility. If he could not control his people, he didn’t deserve to lead.
Nevertheless…
It grated on him.
Yes, Chuuya had been a competent executive, and the Port Mafia’s biggest threat from a combat standpoint. But neither of those justified special treatment. What had earned him that special treatment, that truce, was his unwavering loyalty.
But that loyalty had turned out to be a sham.
Mori hadn’t been the one to target Chuuya. Chuuya had escaped unscathed, and Mori had done everything in his power to destroy the architect of the assassination attempt, and to prevent future lapses. If Chuuya were truly loyal, he would have chosen to stay. For that matter, he wouldn’t have sought the truce in the first place.
Yes, the failure was on Chuuya’s part, not Mori’s. Mori had been positively indulgent, allowing Chuuya the freedom to be involved with a traitor, and even choosing Chuuya as his successor, not that Chuuya had known that. Nevertheless, he would never have been so permissive had he not thought Chuuya to be scrupulously loyal.
(Mori glossed over the fact that he himself was the one to volunteer the truce originally, and that Chuuya had never requested it. He likewise shied away from the fact that only half the reason for the truce was to retain Chuuya’s loyalty, and that the other half was to prevent Dazai from destroying the Port Mafia completely, making the twenty-five percent hit the Port Mafia had taken a generous deal.)
Well, he thought, at the moment Chuuya is still at least somewhat useful. His naivete today shows he still trusts us too much, even though we are now released from the truce as well. If Soukoku is still willing to work for the Port Mafia, and is occasionally opposing our enemies independently, we can wait and see.
But I need a plan, should it come to pass that they become our enemy in truth.
Dazai
Dazai sat in the surveillance room of their offices, studying several different recordings intently and periodically glancing out the window.
A notification popped up on his phone indicating that someone had come to the front door of their offices, and he checked the camera and confirmed it was Chuuya. Dazai closed out the files, then headed out into the waiting room to find Chuuya using the absurd espresso machine to make something complicated.
“Hey,” Chuuya said, looking over and up at him as he approached.
“Hey, yourself,” Dazai said lightly, bending to kiss Chuuya warmly. He straightened and took one step away, leaning against the wall next to the coffee station. “Good work on the bomb. How’d you handle it?”
“Aw, fuck,” Chuuya said, his brows drawing together in annoyance. “Do not fucking tell me I went viral again,” he said with disgust.
“Allow me to make your day,” Dazai said with an amused smile. “No, actually, you didn’t. I got it off the police scanners, not off social media. It was a bomb, after all, Chuuya,” he pointed out. “The area had been cleared of bystanders. Nobody there but the bomb squad and you. Nothing is trending under #yokohamasuperhero.” His smile widened as Chuuya melted with relief.
“Thanks, babe, that does make my day,” Chuuya said gratefully. He poured espresso into his mug and began steaming the milk.
“So back to my question, then,” Dazai said, raising his voice to be heard over the hissing of the machine. “How’d you handle it?”
“Oh, same way as on our honeymoon,” Chuuya said. “Just compressed gravity around the case so hard that it couldn’t burst. So the explosion effectively was directed inward, since the pressure couldn’t escape. One of the bomb tech guys was really excited, thought it would be interesting to see what that did to the interior.” As the machine quieted, he poured the steamed milk over the espresso and began running the cleaning cycle.
As the machine hissed, Chuuya asked, “So did they stay in the apartment after lunch?”
Dazai nodded. “Yes. Well,” he amended, “Storm had settled into that one spot in the study and made it clear she did not want to move. Cloud came down with me but she got antsy after around twenty minutes, so I took her back up.”
Chuuya said, “Aww,” and smiled a little more brightly. Taking a sip, he headed for their office, and Dazai trailed along behind him.
He’s not depressed, but he’s concerned, Dazai thought. So he hasn’t decided to cut ties with them yet. Good. He flopped on the sofa between the windows, sprawled full-length facing Chuuya’s desk. He watched Chuuya’s face, intent on the computer screen as he presumably efficiently made up an invoice for the bomb disposal.
Dazai hadn’t yet informed Chuuya that he had bugged all of the Port Mafia leaders’ offices, although he would be surprised if Chuuya didn’t suspect as much. Chuuya was no fool, and surely couldn’t think that Dazai would have allowed him to return to Port Mafia territory after the poisoning, especially for a meal, without some form of protection.
As he watched Chuuya type, he reflected on the footage he’d reviewed. Mori’s loyalty tests this time around had indicated a deepening paranoia. Thus far, Chuuya’s friends were in the clear, but Kouyou was taking the brunt of Mori’s suspicion, and his probing questions about Kyouka had roused Dazai’s ire. Higuchi was still effectively hostage to Akutagawa’s loyalty, but at this rate Mori was likely to eliminate her soon, before Akutagawa grew too attached. Akutagawa would likely escape as long as he remained loyal, as Mori couldn’t afford to lose his only remaining weapon of mass destruction. In that respect, Akutagawa was more fortunate than the rank and file, as another high-ranking mafioso had been executed with his lover when she had admitted under interrogation that she was questioning her commitment to the Port Mafia under the new rules.
Of far more concern to Dazai than the fate of Chuuya’s friends and former colleagues, however, was Mori’s open hostility to Chuuya himself. What changed? he wondered. Chuuya hasn’t worked against the Port Mafia in any way, and has taken several jobs for the Port Mafia and given those jobs his all. He hasn’t tried to turn any of his friends, and-
“What’s wrong?” Chuuya’s voice cut gently through his thoughts, and Dazai realized that Chuuya had completed his work and was watching him.
He doesn’t need to know about the executions, Dazai decided instantly. He’s already worried enough about his friends.
“You handled it extremely well,” Dazai said, his voice serious.
“Yeah?” Chuuya agreed. “It was just a bomb.” His voice was quizzical.
“I meant your interaction with Mori today,” Dazai said.
Chuuya locked eyes with Dazai, his own startled. After a moment, he said, “Wait, how do you - wait, do you have Kouyou’s office bugged?!?”
Dazai raised a disapproving eyebrow. “Chuuya. Really?”
Chuuya held his eyes for a few more moments, and then his shoulders slumped. “All right,” he conceded quietly. “I didn’t want to know ‘cause I didn’t want to have to lie. But yeah, deep down I figured.” He tilted his head. “Mori’s too, I assume?”
“Of course,” Dazai replied.
Chuuya squared his shoulders. “Anything I need to know?”
“There was a second round of loyalty tests yesterday,” Dazai said. “All your friends cleared them.” He watched the relief cross Chuuya’s face. “I think you saw for yourself today that Mori seems to be nursing a grudge against you,” he said.
“Yeah, noticed,” Chuuya said wryly.
Dazai allowed a dark smile to bloom. “And I think you also saw that he underestimates you,” he said.
Chuuya’s lips twisted. “It’s a big club,” he said bitterly.
Dazai surveyed his husband with sympathy. People made jokes about small man’s disease, the pugnaciousness and defensiveness in men insecure about their height. But really, Chuuya wasn’t defensive due to insecurity. He was just accustomed to being bullied and disparaged because of his height; being underestimated and treated as all-brawn-no-brains due to comparisons to Dazai - and honestly, had none of these people noticed how poorly they fared in that same comparison? - and being dismissed as naive due to his honesty. His defensiveness and frustration were quite legitimate. Chuuya was highly intelligent, both in intellect and savvy, an excellent planner and administrator, a strong leader in the field and out of it. He was compassionate, trustworthy, and responsible. He was without question the strongest man, both physically and morally, in Yokohama and probably all of Japan, and while he had the respect and loyalty of many, it was still less than he deserved.
“Imagine how furious he would be if he really understood what he’d lost,” Dazai said soberly.
Chuuya’s lip trembled. “I’m worried I’m gonna have to stop seeing them. That I’m putting them in danger.”
Sweetheart, Dazai thought, his heart aching. You deserve so much better. He rose from the sofa and crossed to Chuuya’s desk. Chuuya looked up at him with big blue eyes, and Dazai reached out, his thumb stroking Chuuya’s cheekbone as he tucked Chuuya’s hair behind his ear. “We’ll figure something out,” he said. “We’ll find a way for you to keep your friends, and keep them safe.” I may not tell you how until afterward, though, he thought.
“It’s nearly four,” Dazai said. “Why don’t we call it a day? Go upstairs, play with the cats, have a nice dinner and a soak? I can give you a massage if you like.” His fingertips trailed along Chuuya’s jawline.
Chuuya turned his head and pressed a kiss to Dazai’s thumb. “I like,” he said, his heart in his eyes.
Higuchi
Higuchi walked beside Akutagawa as they returned to the car after dinner. The restaurant was new, and parking had been quite crowded nearby, so they had a longer walk than usual.
As they turned down a side street, a pair of dark figures paused at the corner behind them. “Ready?” one asked in a whisper into an earpiece. “They’re coming.”
“We’ve got eyes on them,” the response came. “Be ready.”
With Chuuya’s departure from the Port Mafia, the organization had been hobbled. Kouyou had taken on all of Chuuya’s administrative and diplomatic duties, but Akutagawa had been the only real option for taking over most of Chuuya’s combat functions. The Black Lizard was doing what they could, and Inoue’s defensive ability allowed them to take risks they might not have otherwise been able to, but for mass destruction, Akutagawa was now the face of the Port Mafia. A single point of failure, and thus a very high-profile target, with a correspondingly astronomical price on his head.
As the couple passed a doorway, a gas grenade went off beside them.
No! thought Higuchi. She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, drawing her gun as she spun, looking for hostiles. As she did so, she was horrified to hear a thump next to her as Akutagawa, with his weak respiratory system, went down from the gas.
She stood over her boyfriend and boss, firing at the approaching figures, but her clip was running low. I don’t have enough bullets for all of them, she thought, panicked. And even if I clear one direction, I can’t outrun them if I’m carrying him.
“Got ‘em!” she heard from behind her, and swiveled, firing again. Another man went down, but as she fired once more, the gun clicked uselessly.
The men closed in cautiously, and as their faces became distinguishable in the dark, she howled inside with frustration.
Damn it! she thought. I won’t let them take him!
One of the approaching men gloated, “So much for the mad dog of the Port Mafia.”
Higuchi ground her teeth, and suddenly a glowing green ribbon of text spiralled up around her and Akutagawa as her voice called out, “In Obscurity!”
Higuchi was shocked by what had happened, but was even more shocked when the gloating thug suddenly panicked, “Where did they go? How did they get away? Fuck!”
She had enough presence of mind to pocket her weapon and drag Akutagawa over to the far side of the street and down toward the approaching men, waiting against the wall as they passed. As the men searched the doorway that had held the gas grenade, she resumed dragging Akutagawa back toward the car, and eventually settled the two of them on the far side of a dumpster, waiting as the men finished their search and dispersed.
Deciding it would be safer if Akutagawa were conscious when they got to the car, in case the men regrouped there, she waited for him to awaken.
After five minutes that felt like five hours, he stirred. “Higuchi,” he said.
“Akutagawa,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re awake. We need to get back to the car, there was an assassination attempt. The police will probably be here soon.”
“Did you kill them all?” he asked, as she helped him to his feet.
“No,” she said. “I ran out of bullets.”
His expression sharpened, and he frowned. “Then why did they not kill us?”
Oh, God, Higuchi thought. Is he going to believe me? If he does believe me, will he believe I didn’t know before? She took a couple of very deep breaths, and said, “I think I used an ability to conceal us. I didn’t know I had one,” she explained hastily.
Akutagawa’s eyes widened, and then his jaw set. “Speak of this to no one,” he warned. “We must tell the Boss first, and let him decide whether to make this public knowledge or not.”
The Boss? Higuchi thought, faint with terror. Oh, God. She swallowed. “Yes, sir,” she said.