Archive of Our Own

Prologue, the previous week:

Higuchi knelt on the carpet in front of Boss Mori’s desk beside and slightly behind Akutagawa, who also knelt, head bowed, as he explained what had happened on their way home from dinner the night before.  He was concise.

“We were attacked leaving dinner last night.  They used a gas grenade that rendered me unconscious immediately.  Higuchi killed a number of them, and when she ran out of bullets she activated an ability that she didn’t know she had.  It was called In Obscurity, and it rendered them unable to see us.  We have told no one about the incident.”

There was a pause, and Higuchi desperately wished she could lift her head to see what kind of expression the Boss was making.  Eventually he spoke, but his voice, slick and poisonous as always, gave no hint to how he felt.

“Akutagawa, Higuchi will require intense training to optimize this new skill.  As a result, she will be largely unavailable to act as your assistant while her training is ongoing.  You may draft a temporary assistant from within the organization, although if you choose someone already assigned directly to another executive, you will need to obtain agreement from that executive.  You are dismissed.  Higuchi, remain.”

Higuchi remained immobile, head bowed, as Akutagawa replied, “Yes, Boss.”  All she could see from her position was the bottom of Akutagawa’s coat pooling on the floor in her peripheral vision, but she watched out of the corner of her eye as the coat moved as he stood, and then she glimpsed his feet and ankles backing away, leaving her alone and terrified before the Boss.

She heard the door close behind Akutagawa, and then Mori spoke once more.

“You will master this new skill of yours.  You will learn everything that your ability can and cannot do, and identify every way that it can be used to the Port Mafia’s benefit.  You will be trained as an assassin.”

Higuchi’s heart hammered in her chest.  When the Boss had told Akutagawa she would be temporarily unavailable while training, she had been reconciled to that.  But if she was going to be trained as an assassin, did that mean she would never be going back to work as Akutagawa’s assistant?

Mori continued remorselessly.  “If your progress does not meet my expectations, or if your loyalty fails, you will watch as Akutagawa is executed.  Your own execution will follow his.”

Higuchi fought to hold back tears as she replied helplessly, “Yes, Boss.”

Inception

Dazai sat in the computer room, frowning as he listened to surveillance recordings.  He paused the audio as a tentative knock came at the door, and looked over.

Chuuya opened the door a bit and poked his head through.  As he did so, Storm twined her way around his leg and entered the computer room, making her way over to where Dazai sat.  As Dazai removed his headset, Storm leapt easily up onto the desktop, and then further up to curl up atop the humming computer.  Dazai reached up and stroked her, his expression softening.

“What’s up?” he asked Chuuya lightly.

Chuuya said diffidently, “You’ve just been in here a lot lately.  Is there anything I need to know about?”

Dazai leaned back in his chair and eyed him in turn.  He knew that since his husband had found out that he was bugging the Port Mafia offices, Chuuya had been torn between his desire to protect his friends and his desire to not betray their trust.  After a few moments, he spoke deliberately.  “I don’t think there’s anything you need to know at this point, other than the fact that I am monitoring the situation, and will do everything in my power to make sure that your friends, and your friendships, remain safe.”

Chuuya nodded, the tension leaving his shoulders.  “Thanks,” he said quietly.

Dazai smiled crookedly.  “I promise I will tell you when there’s something you need to know,” he assured Chuuya.

“Yeah, yeah,” Chuuya said.  “I know.”  He opened the door wider and walked into the room, coming straight over to Dazai.

Dazai spun his chair a little so that as Chuuya approached, the shorter man stepped between his knees, and Dazai reached up to capture his waist, leaning his head against Chuuya’s stomach.  Chuuya wrapped his arms around Dazai’s shoulders and held him.

“Thanks,” Chuuya murmured again.  He hugged Dazai a while longer, and then opened his mouth, closed it again, and after a few more seconds asked hesitantly, “Odds?”

Dazai raised his head from Chuuya’s stomach and smiled at him more genuinely.  “Chuuya,” he said, amused.  “Me vs. Mori?  Is that a serious question?”  He squeezed Chuuya’s waist, and said, “I promise, you will get to keep your friends.”

Chuuya’s expression lightened, and a broad smile began to form.  “Yeah, sorry,” he said.  He pulled Dazai’s head back against his small frame, his fingers threading up through Dazai’s hair to hold him in place.  He craned his neck and pressed his lips to the top of Dazai’s head.  “I know who I can trust,” he said, his voice a low growl.

They pulled back and turned sharply as there was a clatter to their right.

Chuuya released Dazai, cocking his head in exasperation.  “Cloud,” he chided, and went to pick up the wireless mouse the cat had knocked onto the floor.

Straightening, he set it back on the desktop, and Cloud immediately pounced on it again.  “Hey,” he said.  “Don’t do that.”  He scooped her up in his arms, and she twisted and dropped to the floor, rotating in midair to land on her feet, brushing against his legs on the way.

Chuuya looked down at his pants and said wryly, “And of course we had to get one white cat and one dark grey cat, so there’s nothing we can wear that won’t show fur.”

Dazai looked at him, eyeing the new scattering of white fur on Chuuya’s dark pants, and said, “Pet hair roller’s on the shelf by the door.”

“I’ve got one at my desk,” Chuuya said.  He eyed the cats.  “Can I leave the doors open so they can come and go?”

Dazai laughed.  “Yes, but you’re not likely to get Storm back as long as I’m using the computer,” he said.  “It’s too warm.”

Chuuya blushed.  “Yeah, yeah,” he said.  “Have fun.”  He turned and headed back to his desk in the main office.

Dazai put his headset back on and started listening again.

Around ten a.m., Dazai wandered back into their office and grabbed a cold drink from the refrigerator.  Removing the cap, he took a long swig and headed over to perch on the corner of Chuuya’s desk.  “Incoming,” he said, and took another swig.

Chuuya’s brow creased as he looked up at Dazai.  “What-” he began, and his cell phone rang.  He checked the caller ID and looked sharply at Dazai.  He swiped to answer.

“Hi B- Mori,” he said deliberately, and Dazai smiled approvingly.  “Something we can do for you?  You’re on speaker, but it’s just me and Dazai here.”

“Hello, Chuuya, Dazai,” Mori greeted them.  “I’d like to engage your services for a job, possibly two.  Would you be willing to come to my office to discuss this?”

Chuuya glanced at Dazai, who nodded with a dark smile.  “Sure.  Shall we just come now, or is there a specific time?”

“If you are able to come now, that would be preferable,” Mori said.

“All right, we’re on our way,” Chuuya said as they both rose.  “See you soon.”  He ended the call and looked at Dazai.  “Let’s take the cats upstairs before we leave.”

“Yes,” Dazai said, and they went to collect their furry friends.

Just as he had the last time they entered Mori’s office, Dazai crossed the room and flung himself full length on the sofa, hands laced behind his head.  Chuuya took a seat across the desk from Mori as his former boss welcomed them both.  He greeted Mori and Elise and leaned forward attentively.

“So how can we help you today?” Chuuya asked.

Mori spoke in a tone that shared a nodding acquaintance with ‘pleasant’.  “The Port Mafia finds itself short-staffed this week,” he said.  “Since you left, your combat missions have largely been allocated to Akutagawa and the Black Lizard.  Higuchi has apparently been surprisingly skilled at coordinating Akutagawa’s schedule to maximize efficiency.  However, she has been out sick, and her replacement has not been so adept.  As a result, Akutagawa has fallen behind.  And Gin and Inoue have been out sick also, so the Black Lizard is running behind as well and is unable to pick up the slack.  I would like to hire you to handle one or two critical combat missions that cannot be delayed any further.”

Chuuya turned his head to glance at Dazai.  “That sounds reasonable to me,” he said.  His brows drew together slightly.  “Could we have a little more information about the missions, just to make sure-”

Dazai unlaced his hands and sat up, swinging his legs off the sofa.  “In the spirit of exceeding expectations,” he said, his voice amused, “please allow me to make a suggestion.”  He stood and walked toward the other two, lowering himself into the other armchair.

“By all means, be my guest,” Mori invited with a chilly smile.

Dazai crossed his legs and planted his elbows on the arm rests, hands clasped on his lap.  “Your current staffing issue isn’t limited to combat personnel; the real issue appears to be losing an effective planner.  Rather than having us step in for one or two urgent missions, why not employ us to fill the true gap?”  Dazai smiled with the same pseudo-pleasantry.  “Allow us to review your outstanding mission load and coordinate a schedule for the week to be shared across Akutagawa, Chuuya and me, and Hirotsu and the Black Lizard.  Between us all, we should be able to get everything caught up by the end of the week, rather than just kicking the can down the road.”

Mori raised his eyebrows, as did Chuuya.

“I didn’t think that you would be interested in taking on that much work for us,” Mori said.

Dazai’s smile twisted.  “It’s less work to do something right than it is to do it incomplete and have to fix it afterward,” he said.

Mori’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he exclaimed cheerfully, “Excellent!  Chuuya, your office has not been reassigned yet.  If the two of you would like to set up there, I can have the appropriate files sent over.  Please do not remove them from the premises.”  Shifting his gaze back to Dazai, he asked, “Do you wish to consult with Akutagawa and Hirotsu, or do you feel confident that you can handle the logistics on your own and just present them with a completed schedule?”

Chuuya remained silent.  This sounded almost like a trap to him.  If Dazai said he wanted to consult, Mori could choose to interpret that as Dazai being unable to complete the task on his own.  If he said he didn’t need to, Mori could interpret that as Dazai having too much information about the Port Mafia’s personnel and capabilities.  He decided it was best that he stay out of it.

“You’re the client,” Dazai said amiably.  “It’s our job to make you happy.  Which would you prefer?”

Mori’s smile grew cruel.  “You know,” he mused, “sometimes when outside contractors are brought in, if something goes wrong, there can be arguments about who was responsible.  Why don’t we keep this simple?  You handle the logistics on your own, and that way we know whom to thank for the success or failure of the plans.”

Dazai smirked.  “Why, thank you.  I’m glad that we won’t have to share the glory.”  Neither he nor Chuuya missed the slight hint of derision that crossed Mori’s face upon hearing the plural ‘we’.  He rose from his chair and Chuuya followed suit, to all appearances oblivious to the insult.  “It’s nearly lunchtime,” he said.  “We’ll run out and grab some food before we head to Chuuya’s former office, and that way we won’t need to leave until we’re done.  Is that acceptable?”

“Of course,” Mori said.  “The files should be ready by the time you get back.”

As Dazai and Chuuya walked toward the door, Elise intercepted them.  She handed Chuuya a crayon drawing of a man with curly red hair and blue dots for eyes, flying through the air wearing a cape.

Dazai grinned like a pixie.  Chuuya turned red and his shoulders hunched, but he thanked her politely.  Mori’s expression soured.

“After you,” Dazai murmured, ushering Chuuya out the door ahead of him.

As Dazai and Chuuya walked down the street to Chuuya’s preferred take-out restaurant, Dazai watched Chuuya’s stoic demeanor.  After a minute or so, he asked, “Do I need to arrange for us to get mugged, so that you can beat someone up?”

Chuuya spluttered involuntarily.  “The fuck?” he exclaimed.  And then, sheepishly, he asked, “Was I that obvious?”

“Only to me, sweetheart,” Dazai said.

They walked on.  After a brief pause, Chuuya conceded, “I should probably get a punching bag for the gym.”

Dazai smiled.  “Well, until you do, you’re welcome to my body if you want to blow off steam,” he said in a husky voice.

Chuuya tried to suppress a smile, and deliberately misinterpreted.  “I’m not gonna punch you, idiot,” he said.

Dazai’s eyes widened in dramatic distress, and he bemoaned, “Chuuya!  You’re saying you wouldn’t hit this?”

Chuuya burst into true laughter and elbowed Dazai, who elbowed him back.

Now that his husband was more relaxed, Dazai moved on to business.

“Your office will almost certainly be bugged,” he said.  “In fact, I’ll be offended if it’s not.”

Chuuya snorted.

Dazai continued, “I'd like to leave the bugs active.  So a couple of things to keep in mind, so that we don’t have to discuss them on site.  First, no mention of the cats.  We will arrange the schedule so that one or both of us can go home at regular intervals to take care of them, but we don’t talk about it.”

“Good,” Chuuya said firmly.

“Second,” Dazai said, and as Chuuya reached for a door handle he said, “We'll pick this up later.”

They entered the restaurant, placed their order, and waited patiently, and eventually Chuuya was handed a bag.  Dazai held the door for him as they exited the restaurant and turned back toward the Port Mafia headquarters. 

“Second,” Dazai said once again.  He glanced at Chuuya to see his reaction, and said, “We said we’d pick and choose our jobs.  I know you like to fight, and you’ll undoubtedly get to do a lot of that this week.  But if possible, I’d like to keep us at least somewhat clean.  Like it or not, a lot of people see you as a hero now.  When you were a criminal, it didn’t attract attention outside criminal circles.  Now, if someone catches you killing entire organizations, it’s going to be front page news and bring down a lot of trouble on our heads.  So I’m going to try to assign us jobs where yes, there may be fighting, and there will definitely,” he smiled wryly, “be property damage, but where we don’t have to kill people, and our work could be construed as vigilantism rather than villainy.”

Chuuya looked straight ahead thoughtfully as Dazai spoke.  When Dazai finished, Chuuya said, “That sounds fair.”  A few steps later, he ducked his chin the tiniest bit and admitted quietly, “I’m kind of liking it.”  His voice strengthened, and he threw Dazai a quick sideways look.  “Not the going viral part,” he said, and looked forward again, “but just the being a good guy bit.  So… thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Dazai said sincerely.  “And I’m glad.”

They walked on, and just before they reached the border of the Port Mafia property, Dazai said, “Oh!  And third, regarding your office being bugged-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chuuya said.  “No PDA.”

Dazai smiled devilishly.  “Maybe just enough flirting that it’s not obvious we know we’re being bugged.”

Chuuya smirked.  “Yeah, sure.”

When Chuuya and Dazai were escorted to Chuuya’s old office, a pile of files was waiting on top of the desk.  As Dazai closed the door behind them, Chuuya headed over to his desk.

“No computer,” he said.  “Guess they didn’t want to give us access to the network.”

“It’s fine,” Dazai said.  “We can make handwritten notes, and we have spreadsheet apps on our phones.”

“Yeah, but a bigger screen would make it easier to see the whole picture and get it organized,” Chuuya grumbled.

“Well, we can just use that tried-and-true sophisticated technique from my youth,” Dazai said innocently.

“Oh, fuck, you’re not serious,” Chuuya pleaded with distaste.

“But of course I am, Chuuya,” Dazai sang.

“Fuck,” Chuuya surrendered.

Half an hour later, every mission file had its own space on the carpet.  There were four columns, one per day.  Some missions had been assigned their day due to the exigencies of the mission itself, and others that were not time-sensitive had been assigned their day for efficiency, either grouping missions together or spreading them out as appropriate.

“All right,” Dazai said.  “Tomorrow first.”

They collected the files from the first column and returned to Chuuya’s ostentatious, oversized desk.

Chuuya leafed through the stack, picking out a few of the files.  “Akutagawa,” he said, slapping a file into the top left corner of his desk.  “Akutagawa,” he placed another next to it.  “Me,” he said, placing the next file in a new row starting at the middle left.  He flipped through a few more, and found another, “Me.”  He placed the stack down.  “The rest of these can be any group.”

Dazai raised the stack and flipped through it, frowning in concentration.  He reordered a couple of files, and then looked down at the four Chuuya had already placed.

“All right,” he said.  He took one more file and placed it in Chuuya’s row, sliding it between the two Chuuya had already placed.  “These are our, or possibly your, three.”

Chuuya glanced at it and said, “No problem.”  The three missions all met Dazai’s conditions, and honestly, Chuuya could easily solo them.

Dazai set three of the remaining files in a row at the bottom of the desk.  “These are definitely for the Black Lizard,” he said, and Chuuya peered at them and signaled his agreement.

“I’m of two minds about these last two,” Dazai said.  “My inclination would be to give this one to the Black Lizard, and this one to Akutagawa because of its location.”

“Yeah, that works,” Chuuya said.  “Why are you unsure?  What other alternative were you thinking?  The reverse wouldn’t work as well from an efficiency standpoint, considering the relative locations of the other jobs.”

Dazai explained, his voice serious, “If Akutagawa’s that overworked, I thought it might be better to just give him the two jobs that he’s absolutely required for, and give both of these to the Black Lizard.”

“Five for the Black Lizard’s too much of a stretch, with them down two squad leaders,” Chuuya disagreed decisively.

“Yes,” Dazai said, “but it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch if the jobs were spread across two different squads.  Hirotsu could lead one and I could lead the other.”  He placed the two remaining files to the right of the original three Black Lizard assignments.

Chuuya checked and verified that the missions in the group of two, just like his own group of three, met Dazai’s requirements for “staying clean”.  He slid Dazai’s group a little farther to the right, making more space between them, and then looked over the entire layout for Tuesday.

“Yeah,” Chuuya said finally.  “Looks good.  Let me put it in a spreadsheet, and then let’s eat lunch before we start on Wednesday.”  He looked up briefly.  “But hey,” he said, a look of concern on his face, “I know what you mean about the burn-out, but we shouldn’t do every day like this.  We need to give Akutagawa a few easy ones as well.  Yeah, it can be frustrating to be overworked, but you can get even more demoralized if all you get is the hard shit, and the easy stuff all goes to other people.  He needs to have a few easy wins as palate cleansers.  And that way he doesn’t have to deal with the possibility that some dumbass somewhere is whining about how Akutagawa has it easy only doing half as many jobs as they are, when he’s doing fucking nightmare shit solo and they’re doing weak-ass shit with a whole crew sharing the load.”

“I trust your judgement,” Dazai said in a low voice.  “I expect you know more about burnout than most.  As we proceed, I’ll leave it to you to decide how to allocate days for recovery vs palate cleansers.”  His voice dropped into an even lower register.  “Now, I believe you said something about lunch?  Join me on the sofa?”

Chuuya’s toes curled at the seductive timbre of Dazai’s voice.  “Just for lunch,” he said in a voice that tried, quite unconvincingly, to be severe and businesslike.

“Of course,” Dazai said with a wicked smile.

Several hours later, the schedule for the week was set.  The mission files were organized and annotated, ready to go to their respective leaders.

Chuuya stretched.  “I hope I don’t get any emergency calls at awkward times,” he said.

Dazai frowned.  “You’re going to mute it during the missions, aren’t you?” he asked.  “We did warn the various emergency services that there would be times when you would be undercover or in combat and it would be dangerous to receive calls.”

“Yeah,” Chuuya said.  “I wasn’t hoping because I was worried I’d get interrupted; I was hoping because I didn’t want to have to let anybody down.”

“Ah,” Dazai said.  “I see.”  He straightened.  “Let’s go hand the schedules off.”

The schedules and mission files had been handed off to Mori’s executive assistant, including those for Dazai’s and Chuuya’s missions, which would be held at HQ.  Dazai and Chuuya had contacted their answering service and left word that Soukoku’s offices would be closed this week.  They had stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up a few things for dinner.

As they headed into the kitchen, Chuuya set the groceries on the counter.  He checked his watch.  “I’m gonna go ahead and start dinner,” he said.  “You want to feed the cats?”

Dazai stepped up behind him, one hand on Chuuya’s waist, and with the other he pulled Chuuya’s hair back over his shoulder, baring his neck for a kiss.

Chuuya hummed in pleasure and leaned back into Dazai, as Dazai replied, “Sure.  If you don’t mind, after I do that I’m going to run downstairs and check the recordings.”

“Ah,” Chuuya said, straightening up.  “Actually, how about you go ahead and do that?  I’ll feed the cats before I start dinner.  I’ll text you when it’s ready, if you’re not back up.”

“Thank you,” Dazai said, pressing another kiss to his neck before releasing him and silently vanishing toward the fire stairs.

Chuuya left the groceries out and retrieved two packages of wet food.  At the sound of a fork scraping, Cloud came into the kitchen at speed, with Storm following more slowly.  He knelt and stroked their backs as they ignored him in favor of eating, and then stood up and addressed himself to dinner.

Forty-five minutes later, Chuuya turned off the burners and reached for his phone, and then pocketed it again as he heard the door open and close.  “Verdict?” he called as he opened a cabinet to take out a pair of plates.

“So far, so good,” Dazai said, entering the room languidly.  “He seems pleased.”

“He ought to be,” Chuuya said belligerently as he set the plates next to the stove.  “He’s getting a hell of a deal.”

“He’s getting a hell of a service,” Dazai corrected.  “It’s going to cost a pretty penny.”

They dished up their food, skewed heavily toward Chuuya’s plate, and poured their preferred drinks, and settled in at the table.  They discussed some of the missions they’d be handling the following day, and Chuuya slipped the occasional piece of food to Cloud under the table, prompting Dazai to accuse him of bribery.

After dinner, Dazai did the dishes while Chuuya put the leftovers away, and then Dazai said, “Let’s play video games tonight.”

“Oh?” Chuuya asked, a little surprised.  “Sure, we haven’t done that in a while.  Which one?”

Dazai picked up his glass and headed to the living room.  “You’ll see,” he said.

As Chuuya settled in on the sofa, Dazai turned on the console and collected the controllers.  He launched a game.

Chuuya’s brows drew together.  “We haven’t played this one in a while,” he said.  He gave Dazai a sharp look.  “Any particular reason you picked this one?”

Dazai met his gaze.  “No, why do you ask?” he said limpidly.

Chuuya humphed and pressed the start button on his controller.

Gaming was - educational, Chuuya decided.  Dazai steered them into a PVP mode, urging Chuuya to play a character with crowd-control skills.  They entered a warzone and played for nearly an hour, during which Dazai invented shorthand codes to coordinate their combat.  A command that Chuuya noticed popping up regularly was simply, “AOE!”, usually called out when there was a stealthed player nearby.  Whenever Dazai called out “AOE”, Chuuya immediately placed an area stun that locked down all movement.

After an hour, Dazai said, “That’s probably enough for now,” and logged out of the game.  Chuuya followed suit, shaking his head.

“What now?” Chuuya asked.  “Want a soak?”

“Yes, please,” Dazai replied instantly, and rose from the sofa.  “I’ll go start the water.”

Chuuya watched him go, then looked back at the blank screen.  AOE, crowd control, stealth, he thought.  Whatever.  I’m sure he’s got a reason for doing it this way.  He always does.  He rose and put away his controller, and then followed Dazai to the bathroom.

Interlude

Their week was a model of efficiency.  Each morning, they rose at a Chuuya-appropriate hour, with minimal grumbling from Dazai, to which Chuuya replied with a reminder of, “You’re the one who set the schedule,” and arrived at the Port Mafia headquarters promptly on time.  They separated, with Dazai meeting up with Hirotsu to divide up the Black Lizard squads according to the needs of their respective missions, and Chuuya either heading out directly or, when appropriate, coordinating with the cleanup teams that would be clearing the sites and returning with the spoils.

One or both of them would be free around lunchtime and would go home to check on the cats and reply to any messages left with their firm’s answering service, and each night they were both done with work in plenty of time to get home before dinner.

It was all very pleasant, and when Friday’s last mission ended, they met up at home once more.

“Everything go okay today?” asked Chuuya.

“There you go again, doubting my competence,” Dazai said lightly.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Chuuya said mildly.  “Have you been doing your mission reports, or do I need to do them for you?  I don’t want to send the invoice to Mori until we’ve closed out all the missions and turned in the paperwork.”

“I have left no room for customer complaints,” Dazai announced primly.  “Every i dotted and t crossed.  If you want, we can head downstairs and I’ll forward you my reports, and you can button everything up and send them over with the invoice right now.”

“Damn,” Chuuya said, impressed.  “You’re really going all out to keep him pacified.”

Dazai’s expression grew serious.  “I promised you I’d do everything I could to make sure you get to keep your friends.  If that means making sure he doesn’t have anything to feel bitter or vindictive about, so be it.”

Chuuya closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Dazai’s waist, burying his face in his husband’s chest.  “I love you, you know,” he said, muffled.

Dazai enfolded Chuuya in his arms and stroked his hair.  “I love you, too, sweetheart,” he said.

Chuuya hugged him a while longer, and then pulled back and smiled at him.  “Okay, let’s go finish the job.”

Mori opened the invoice and skimmed it.  “Expensive, but we got our money’s worth,” he commented aloud to Elise.  “Hopefully Akutagawa and the Black Lizard can stay on top of things going forward.”

“If they don’t, you can just hire Dazai and Chuuya again,” Elise said disinterestedly.  She climbed up on the table and collected a leftover pastry from their tea earlier.

Mori opened the attachments and began reading through the mission reports.  The jobs had been handled with exquisite precision; complete and efficient and timely.  However, as he read through them, he noticed a trend, and his face darkened with each new report.

“Are they trying to make a fool of me?” he asked bitterly as he closed the last report.

Elise sniffed, as if to indicate that he was doing a fine job of that himself.

“They didn’t take any of the assassination missions,” Mori muttered.  “And during the missions that involved destroying enemy facilities or confiscating goods, they left all the personnel alive.”

Elise asked pointedly, “Did the mission files say they had to kill people?”

“The ones they chose not to take did,” Mori said hotly.  “And they are the ones who decided which missions went to whom.  Presumably they think they’re too good now to dirty their hands.”  His mouth twisted.  "The 'Yokohama super hero', indeed.  I wonder what would happen if I were to expose Chuuya's violent past."  He began spinning a scalpel between his fingers.

Elise gave him an eloquent, 'Are you stupid?' look.  "Dazai would kill you, and then he'd manufacture a whole bunch of faked evidence to show that Chuuya was some sort of super-spy who had gone undercover at great personal hardship to take out the evil mafia boss."

Mori actually snarled.  He stopped spinning the scalpel and clenched his fist on the handle.

Elise was sufficiently puzzled by Mori’s attitude that she looked directly at him.  “Your backlog is cleared.  All the objectives were met.  Dazai even led Black Lizard missions himself.  You should be happy.”

“It’s a matter of respect,” Mori said.  “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t understand,” Elise agreed.  She shrugged.  “Maybe because I don’t respect you, either.”  She wiped her hands on a napkin and climbed down to go get her crayons.

Mori’s jaw tightened.

Epilogue

Higuchi was grateful that Inoue had been designated to train her to maximize her new ability.  The level of detail with which he had studied and tested it over the last - week? week and a half? - was astounding.

When the Boss had assigned him to wring everything possible out of In Obscurity, Inoue had begun by having her demonstrate the ability.  From his description, it seemed that she, and whatever or whomever else she chose, simply became invisible and inaudible; there was no wavering in the air, or fog, or darkness to give away the fact that something was hidden in the area.  

He had had her jump up and down in front of him, and yell at him, and had verified that he neither saw nor heard her, although he did see the floor deflect slightly from the jumping.  He had her fire a gun into a target, and verified that the gun firing did not break her ability, although the bullet remained visible and its trajectory could give her away.

He had had her hide herself, and then come tug his sleeve, and slap his face, to see if he could feel her do so.  He indicated that he felt the tug and the slap, although he still didn't see or hear her.  He had her repeat the test, holding first an empty gun to his temple, and then the back of a knife blade to his throat.

He had had her hide herself and remain still, and had reached out to see if he could discern her location by touch, and discovered that he could.

He had tested and confirmed that security cameras and other recording devices couldn’t see through her ability.

He had had her hide herself and Gin, and he had had her hide herself and objects, and he had had her hide items selectively within an area while leaving other objects visible.

He had brought an entire squad into a large training room, and had blindfolded them all so that her ability would remain secret, and had then brought her in, instructing her silently in writing through a series of tests to determine how large an area she could hide, how many people she could hide, and how flexible her ability to target specific individuals within the group was.

In that same session, he had had her hide herself, and move around, and then add other individuals, in groups of three or four at a time, to verify that she could in fact increase the number of people hidden without having to drop the ability and reinitiate it each time.

He had brought Kouyou in to determine whether Golden Demon (and, presumably, Demon Snow) were affected by In Obscurity, and had been excited to learn that Golden Demon was unable to see through the ability.

While Kouyou had still been there, he had had Higuchi hide herself and Kouyou, and had then instructed Kouyou to summon Golden Demon, in order to determine whether the manifestation of an ability would be visible because it was new, or hidden because the ability user was hidden, and learned that it could occur either way, but that Higuchi had to make a conscious effort to ensure that it would manifest hidden.

For one extremely unpleasant test, he had had her hide herself, and remain still as he swung a bokken at the place he had last seen her, in order to determine whether physical damage automatically broke her ability.  He had tested multiple times with increasing levels of power, and her ability had held for a while before the pain broke her concentration.  She had ended up in the infirmary overnight, and was still entirely black and blue on one side.  She was just glad she had thought to raise her arm out of the way, or it would undoubtedly have broken.

Still, she remembered the Boss’ threat.  “If your progress does not meet my expectations…”

With Inoue’s help, I have the best possible chance of achieving the Boss’ goals so that Akutagawa and I aren’t executed, she thought, and then her attention snapped back to Inoue as he approached.

“Give me your jacket, please,” he said, and she removed it and handed it over.  Her back immediately chilled in the cool air of the room, as her shirt was soaked with sweat.

“All right, activate your ability,” Inoue said, and she did so.  Once she disappeared from his sight, he said, “Go wherever you like in the room, and remain hidden.  I’ll be back in a minute.”  She watched as he left the room and then relocated to lean back against a wall, resting her feet.

A few minutes later he returned with a bloodhound.  He presented her jacket to the hound, and then murmured a command and removed its leash.  The dog sniffed around the room for a while, passing close enough at one point that she had to move to avoid contact, and eventually the dog returned to Inoue and began whining.

“Excellent,” Inoue said.  “You can drop it now.”

Higuchi did so, and the dog turned its head abruptly and ran over to her, and then barked and sat next to her.

Inoue looked over at her and explained, “The Armed Detective Agency’s weretiger has an enhanced sense of smell.  Now we can be reasonably sure that he won’t be able to sniff you out.”  He leashed the dog and led it back to the door, opening it and handing the leash through to someone outside with a brief conversation.

He turned back to her.  “All right,” he said bracingly.  He strode over to a duffel bag and knelt to unzip it.  “Next we’re going to verify whether you’re visible to either infrared or ultraviolet-”

Gin’s sweet voice cut in.  “Not right now, you aren’t.  Your time’s up.  It’s my turn now.”

Inoue checked his watch, and then sighed in disappointment.  “All right,” he said as he stood.  “Good work today, Higuchi.”  He turned to Gin.  “All yours.  Do you need me for anything?”

Gin’s eyes crinkled above her mask, indicating she was smiling.  “Yes, please.  I may need a training dummy, and I also need to show her some techniques for a two-against-one scenario, since often the target of an assassination attempt will have at least one bodyguard.”

“All right,” Inoue said with a small smile in return.  “Just tell me what you need when you need it.”

Higuchi’s voice was hoarse with fatigue as she asked, “May I have some water first?  I haven’t eaten or drunk since breakfast.”

“No,” Gin said.  She checked her watch.  “If you pick this up reasonably quickly, I’ll let you go at eight, and you can get food and water then.”

“Understood,” Higuchi rasped.  She exerted herself mentally, trying to shift her focus from ability training to assassination training.

You can do this, she told herself.  You have to.