Chapter Text
Today, Chuuya started his day with one of the most annoying sounds known to mankind: his alarm clock.
Once Chuuya had finally rolled out of bed and checked his phone, he tried to turn off his alarm clock, only to be stopped by the screen of someone calling him, accepting the call without even looking at the caller ID and once the person on the other side of the phone started to talk chuuya could already feel a migraine coming because on the other side of the phone was a mackerel named Osamu Dazai with his whiney voice he said: “chuuuuuuyaaaaa Mori wants to see you in his office” the mackerel all but whines down the line “what time then” Chuuya said in a sleeping and horse voice (hes really starting to feel that headache now) “in about umm…..” then there was almost silent on the other side of the line except for the small amounts suffeling you could hear in the background “in about 20 minutes” Dazai said with a sly tone.
“Fucken hell, you bandage-wasting idiot, why the fuck did you not call me before?!!!!?!?!?”
Chuuya screamed into the phone while all you could hear from Dazai's end was loud snickering. “Oh, Chewyaa, you should really work on your anger issues a bit more; my ears are bleeding just from earing your annoying voice,” the bandaged boy all but whined into the phone, prompting Chuuya to let out a strangled scream of annoyance.
After about 5 minutes of back-and-forth bickering, while Chuuya was trying to get changed into his Port Mafia black uniform, (with Dazai asking chuuya for a video call while he was gettng his clothes on which chuuya shot down the idea immediatly) it was just after Chuuya had stated something about how he would be taller than Dazai in the future, and teh ginger had almost finished the call saying that he needed to get moving to the PM building before he was late when Dazai spoke up again just as Chuuya was going to hang up “oh yeah by the way Chuuya, Mori said to meet him in TWO hours not TWENTY my bad” and then Dazai hung up before Chuuya could scream at him again
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Now that Chuuya had checked his phone, it was only 6:45am. The sun was barely poking over the tall buildings surrounding him. He was really starting to get peeved at the bandage-wasting bastards' antics. He had about an hour and 15 minutes until 8am, which is when Chuuya had guessed this meeting with Mori was going to be, since that was the time that he usually got to work
‘damn’ now that Chuuya thought of it, he really shouldn't have trusted that bastard. No way would Mori call him to his office through Dazai at this ungodly hour; maybe the reason was the lack of sleep he was getting that he had so easily believed that slimy mackerel.
Ever since the incident him and dazai had dubbed ‘stormbringer’ the shitty ‘dreams’ that he has been getting are still plaging his thoughts through out the night the feeling of going to sleep and waking up just to feel like you haven’t slept at all is not the best feeling in chuuya’s opinion, especially since his once bright blue eyes like the waves in the ocean now turned to calm and depressing waters that are more grey then they are blue. And also the dark eye bags that could be holding a week's worth of shopping in each one.
Now that he thought about that horrific time that migraine was coming back in full force, maybe it was a sign that something fucked up was going to happen today
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After Chuuya had parked his pink motorbike in the Port Mafia building parking lot, one that was specifically designated to him by the boss himself, because Chuuya, for one, hated having to use one whole car park just for his bike, which would only take up half, and also because the actual designated motorcycle parking spaces were always filled by 7:30, and he did not want to deal with that crap after just coming into work.
Finally making his way to the elevators, he pushed the button to go to the top, and when the doors finally slid open, there were about five Mafia grunts standing squished in the small space, all with stoic faces and honestly looking uncomfortable with the tight fit. They suddenly looked scared when they saw the redhead. As the doors opened, they all filed out, except for one grunt who looked more like a runt, probably a new recruit, Chuuya thought as he looked at the pitiful excuse of a man. He almost came up to Chuuya's nose, much to his pleasure, since the man looked about three years older than him, so only around 19, according to Chuuya's estimate.
The doors finally slid closed after what felt like ages, and when they finally did, the kid spoke. "Hey, who are you?" Why in the fuck did this kid, a 19-year-old who was actually older than Chuuya, sound so squeaky? The redhead almost let a small laugh slip from his lips but quickly hid it behind his hand, disguising it as a cough. The runt picked up on that and looked agitated. "Okay, who the fuck do you think YOU are to laugh at me? I'll have you know that I have killed at least 50 people without using my ability!!!" The little runt started to sound like a rat that had ingested helium with the way his high-pitched squeaking sounded. Now Chuuya couldn't hold it in anymore, and he burst out laughing. "You've only killed 50 people... hahah!!... in your life, and you think... hehheh!... that you have such big balls to act this high and mighty around everyone you meet, don't you?" That didn't sit well with the runt, because he tried to swing a blade at Chuuya, and even in his hysterical laughter, he still managed to dodge the blade with practiced ease.
"So what's your name again?" Chuuya asked, still with small bursts of laughter hanging around him. "It's Haruta, you prick!!!" the little rat screamed in the tight space of the elevator, trying to swing the blade in Chuuya's direction. This time, the blade ended up in the wall of the elevator, but not by Haruta, but by the force of gravity, courtesy of Chuuya Nakahara. "Right, so then, how old may you be, Haruta?" Chuuya, even with the knife very close to his face, which was embedded in the wall, asked in a calm voice.
"I'm 19 years old." Haruta's squeaky voice came out, and Chuuya let out a small huff. "Huh, so I was right. Wow, you really are a runt, aren't you? You know I'm only 16, and I'm way taller than you," Chuuya said in triumph, puffing his chest out with pride. Finally finding someone older and shorter than him (old people don't count, sadly) felt fucking amazing.
But I guess that wasn't really well received by the runt, because he was going straight for Chuuya in a sloppy fighting stance. Seeing the ginger ready to attack again, the runt then just decided to go for the knife next to Chuuya's head.
With one small movement, Chuuya had just touched the man, and he was coated in a red hue. Despite all the runt's struggling, he still couldn't move from where he was floating in the surprisingly spacious elevator (well, only because there were only two short and small-ish people in it rather than the muscle-headed grunts from before, packed in like sardines). "Well, you're not too tall yourself, short stack," the little runt dared to say, and that almost set Chuuya off.
Then the elevator dinged. Must have been the runt's floor, Chuuya thought. Well, not his problem. Chuuya swiped his key card, and before the doors could open, the elevator had already resumed its trek up to the Port Mafia boss's office. Haruta was still flailing around in the grip of the redhead's gravity like a wiggling fish. The little runt let out another insult about Chuuya's height, and that had Haruta looking pleased with himself, but only for a moment.
Chuuya's expression changed, and Haruta suddenly went silent, realizing that he had pushed the redhead too far. The knife was no longer in the wall, but now in Chuuya's hand and the knife was coated in thick crimson blood.
Thinking that it was his own, Haruta looked down; there was blood pooling at his feet right next to a severed arm
And when he looked at where his arm should be, it was nothing but a stump of spurting blood and bone; the cut was clean, and his plain black suit was ruined
Haruta tried to pounce at Chuuya again but was stopped once more; the knife was now in his chest, and blood spurted all over Chuuya when it was pulled out the ginger licked the thick red liquid off the knife in one clean motion just to freak Haruta out even more.
Haruta looked about ready to pass out when the ginger finally opened his mouth.
"My name is Nakahara Chuuya, by the way. Also known as a newly appointed executive of the Port Mafia, with one of the highest kill counts in this whole building."
And with that, Haruta finally fainted, and a wicked smirk split Chuuya's face as the elevator dinged again, signifying the end of his journey.