Chapter Text
—Back to UA—
The heavy mahogany doors of Principal Nezu’s private office clicked shut. The room smelled of expensive chamomile tea and old parchment. Dazai Osamu sat in a high-backed leather chair, his posture deceptively relaxed.
The standard UA infirmary gown had been replaced by his signature white poets shirt with a black trench coat on his shoulders, though thick fresh bandages still peeked out from beneath his cuffs and tightly wrapped his neck.
Nezu sat across the desk, perched on a stack of custom cushions. He poured a stream of steaming tea into a porcelain cup, pushing it across the polished wood toward Dazai.
"I must admit, Mr. Dazai, you are a fascinating medical anomaly,"
Nezu began, his cheerful voice carrying its usual calculated warmth.
"The sheer volume of specialized quirk-suppressants and sedatives the League of Villains pumped into your system should have caused permanent neurological shutdown. Yet here you are, fully coherent just three days later."
Dazai didn't touch the tea. He leaned his cheek against his palm, his visible brown eye tracking the steam rising from the cup with a look of profound boredom. Deep within that gaze, however, the cold, razor-sharp edge of the Demon Prodigy was actively dissecting the creature before him.
"A true disappointment, really,"
Dazai sighed, his voice dripping with theatrical melancholy.
"I was told UA possessed the finest medical minds in the country. I was hoping for a peaceful, painless transition to the afterlife, but your Recovery Girl is far too efficient. Now I'm stuck back in this tedious world."
"A world that was very nearly turned upside down because of your absence,"
Nezu replied, his smile remaining perfectly fixed as he took a sip from his own cup.
"Your partner, Mr. Nakahara, was prepared to level a significant portion of our commercial district if we did not locate you within seventy-two hours. The entity inside him—Arahabaki, if my research into Yokohama's classified archives is correct—is remarkably unyielding."
Dazai’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, the lazy demeanor vanishing for a split second.
"My, my. For a localized school principal on the mainland, you have quite a long nose, Director. Digging into Yokohama's internal affairs is a very dangerous hobby."
"It is a necessary hobby when the stability of our society is at risk," Nezu countered smoothly.
"The League of Villains believed they had captured a teenager with a highly valuable 'nullification quirk.' They had no inkling that they had actually kidnapped a cornerstone of the Port Mafia. Had they successfully mass-produced those bullets using your blood, the balance of power between heroes and villains would have collapsed."
"But they didn't,"
Dazai pointed out, a dark, sharp smirk pulling at his lips.
"Because your heroes found the sample my organization left for you. A very effective piece of bait, don't you think?"
"Highly effective,"
Nezu agreed, nodding his small head.
"Which brings us to the purpose of this meeting. The Hero Public Safety Commission is actively investigating the raid. They are demanding to know the identity of the 'unregistered gravity hero' who assisted our staff. I have successfully scrubbed the security footage and falsified the quirk energy signatures, but keeping a secret of this magnitude requires absolute cooperation."
Dazai tilted his head, his smirk widening into something distinctly predatory.
"And what does a clever little creature like you want in exchange for your silence, Nezu-san?"
"A non-aggression pact,"
Nezu stated firmly, his tone shifting from polite host to a hardened strategist.
"Yokohama has always remained a sovereign zone, completely separate from the mainland's hero system. I want your word—and the word of Boss Mori—that the Port Mafia will not use this incident as a foothold to expand your territory into Musutafu or Hosu. Additionally, should the League of Villains attempt to recreate the nullification drug from the remaining data logs, I expect immediate intelligence sharing."
Dazai let out a soft, melodic laugh that lacked any genuine warmth. He finally reached out, using a single bandaged finger to slide the tea cup exactly two inches to the left.
"Mori-dono cares about profits and the protection of his city, not real estate on the mainland,"
Dazai said softly.
"We have no desire to rule over a bunch of flashy, costumed do-gooders. The terms are acceptable. But let me make one thing perfectly clear, Director."
Dazai leaned forward, the shadows of the room seeming to pool around his form. The glassy, drug-worn tint of his eyes completely vanished, replaced by an ancient, suffocating malice that caused even Nezu's ears to twitch slightly.
"The League of Villains took something that belongs to the Port Mafia,"
Dazai whispered, his tone terrifyingly level.
"They broke my skin. They stole my blood. And they made Chuuya work overtime. We do not leave debts unpaid. If your heroes get in our way when we decide to collect that debt, we will dismantle your entire commission from the inside out."
Nezu met the gaze evenly, the tip of his tail twitching once before he raised his cup in a silent, professional toast.
"An understanding, then. Mr. Nakahara is waiting for you in the subterranean hangar. Your transport back to Yokohama is cleared for immediate departure."