Chapter Text
Nakahara Chuuya, contrary to popular belief, is an emotional man. He acknowledges his emotions, processes them in solitude, accepts his lot in life and moves on. It has been a very effective way to survive years of loss and betrayal.
So it is not really a big deal for him to realise he is in love with the one guy he should never fall for. It comes to him naturally on a Monday morning watching Dazai whine about death and pain and whatnot. He had an inkling that his heart was betraying him when he realised Dazai had chosen to respect his choice over the fate of Yokohama in their fight against Verlaine. But it still took a couple of months before the drizzle of affection turned into a goddamned tempest uprooting his peace.
Nakahara Chuuya, in accordance with popular belief, was also a fairly intelligent man. He knew that the demon prodigy of Port Mafia would never accept being loved or vulnerable in any capacity with any person. Or perhaps he would, in a dingy bar with two grunts on forsaken nights. But Chuuya would never have that privilege. So he cut his losses and buried his desires deep inside. The only way he would love Dazai was by watching his back and protecting his life.
Naturally, as all things wont to do in his tedious life, he could not love the man the way he wished to. Nakahara Chuuya is eighteen when Port Mafia declares Dazai Osamu a traitor. He is hardly surprised at the shit that happens here anymore. So he watches his dear car blow up and responds by belting down a whole bottle of Petrus.
He tries looking for Dazai everywhere he believes that mackerel could shack up to escape from Mori. But he is nowhere to be found. Like he was a momentous ordeal in Chuuya’s life that came and rewired his very core, and then ceased to be on a violent whim. Chuuya is not a religious man but his faith was ordained to the connection they shared. He could look in the mirror and accept that he had failed. If he could not find Dazai in whatever godawful hellhole he had crawled into, that just meant that said hellhole was not of this world. Maybe that bastard’s ardent craving for death was finally realised in some unremarkable corner of this city.
Chuuya mourns Dazai the same way he has mourned every loss in his life. He respects the bond they had and he grieves the person who left. And yet, even if all life does is take, take and take from his wretched existence, he would not deter from the path of living. He will go on regardless of the gaping hole he feels at unfinished jokes and one-sided plans. He will live, he will live, he will live.
—
Four months after Dazai’s defection, Mori deems Chuuya trustworthy enough to be handed the big missions. It is not that he ever expressed his doubts verbally or otherwise, but you could only patrol the docks so many times as an Executive. Chuuya is not resentful or angry because of this. He has always respected Mori’s way of handling an organisation as filthy as the Port Mafia and he knows this is the rational way of handling a potential traitor with a singularity lodged in him. But that does not mean he is not relieved to be assigned field work again.
They are sitting in Mori’s huge office with Elise drawing nearby. He silently misses the other one who would stand beside him and crack inneundos to derail the conversation. Perhaps Mori realises that too.
“Chuuya-kun. I know things might have seemed unfair to you in the past few months but I believe you will grace the Port Mafia with your forgiveness over our caution. It is always a pleasure to work with you and I hope that has not changed for you.”
Chuuya takes his hat off and presses it to his chest. Bowing his head in deference he says the one thing that he still believes in after every tragedy in his life. “The port mafia is my family. And you are the person who has my complete loyalty. I believe in you, boss and whatever you need to do for the sake of the mafia.”
Mori steeples his fingers and gives a satisfied smile. From a certain angle, it would have the shadows of Dazai’s smile when a plan worked out with hundred percent perfection. How inconveniently similar they could be at times. He wonders how Mori mourned his dear prodigy, but those are questions he would rather not think about. He had better things to focus on. Like the mission.
“As always, your loyalty and your no-nonsense demeanour is appreciated, Chuuya-kun. I am once again forced to send you to Europe. But this time it will be a one man mission with no contacts from the mafia. We are going on a bidding war, except very bloody.”
“Understood boss. It will not be a problem.”
Mori smiled. “I know. But exercise utmost caution. We are up against the good guys and the bad guys this time.”
“So underworld, government agents and private contractors for corporations.”
“Ha ha! Yes, that is another way to put it.”
“But Boss, it is going to be an insane clusterfuck. What the fuck is the prize this time?”
“Not ‘what’. It is a ‘who’. Ability user ARD-761. Developed by one of our allies during the war but could not be deployed back then. And by the time the asset was ready, the war was over. The ability name is Child of Fortune and the user has escaped from the research facility after unleashing absolute carnage. It is free for all right now but naturally, we should have the upper hand.”
“That is all the information we have?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We have a neutral contact in a village called Albori, near Amalfi coast in Italy, who is not very agreeable on most days.”
Chuuya frowns at that. “How much do they charge?”
“They don’t. You will have to persuade them for the information. If they agree, the information you ask for will be three absolute truths. Not one more, but not one less as well.”
“This is complicated. But I will give my best.”
“Thank you. And Chuuya-kun? I will be expecting good news.”
Chuuya bows his head and leaves the room. A rogue ability user with an ability code and a devastating escape. It is so eerily similar that for the first time in a while Chuuya has goosebumps. There is a bone-deep terror in his gut about this mission that he just cannot disregard. But if there is someone who was damned with the same tiring life as his, he will get them out of that.
And so he boards the flight to Italy to meet the contact first.
—
Getting to a small coastal village during off-season is rather easy. The village is beautiful with bougainvillea draped cottages and stunning views of the sea. He can imagine a certain bandage-waster whining about a seducing an european beauty into committing double suicide with him during a picturesque sunset. How troublesome a person he was to be the bane of Chuuya’s existence in life and in death.
He is exhausted by the time night falls. There was no sign of their contact in any of the places marked as possible rendezevous points. Nor was there any indication of any shady shop or business which would serve as a front for an information broker involved with the underworld. Honestly, this is just a small tourist spot and has hardly any major criminal influence.
But that begs the question, where is the contact? Is it possible that the Port Mafia boss was duped in a bid for information? That would look really bad for the organization right after getting a government permit and losing the star executive. Chuuya does not believe anyone on this planet could outmanevour Mori. Although there was one who enjoyed playing chess with their boss, wagering the lives of people on both sides of any conflict. And who is to say that there is nobody else like the demon prodigy?
By the time he is downing his second glass, the world has gone blurry and wobbly. God he hates his alcohol tolerance. He is contemplating just going to sleep when there is a gust of wind rattling the panes of his room’s windows. Chuuya shakes his head trying to get back on his feet. This could very well be an ambush while baiting him with a contact in a remote corner. Is it their competitors? The information broker? Or is it, and Chuuya really does not want to consider this, his boss? Maybe he thinks one half of the soukoku is not worth it.
He gets up swaying on his feet, trying to get to the source. At a particularly strong gust he covers his eyes and then it suddenly gets completely quiet. Like the last few minutes were a drunken hallucination. But when he opens his eyes, a huge butterfly is perched on his nose. He goes cross-eyed to focus on it and it seems pretty peculiar. The moment he holds it between his fingers, the life goes out of it.
Now Chuuya does not get spooked easily, but there are moments when even he gets weirded out. The butterfly turns out to be an origami made of the infamous bougainvillea petals pressed on paper. It is pale pink and blank. But if he remembers the mackerel and his shitty schemes correctly, he has an idea how this is supposed to go. Placing the paper on a flame is pretty elementary. He nicks his finger and a drop of his blood falls on the petal. Nothing.
Alright, what else? A chemical would be too arbitrary. Nobody so theatrical with a message would want it to stay unopened. But a person so discreet to play games with an S-level threat so close to them perhaps is in a desperate need of an insurance. What would be so unique to assure- ah, yes! Chuuya activates his ability to levitate the paper, positioning it between his palms and then crushes it. Almost immediately the color changes and he deactivates his ability.
The paper has turned black with the original pale pink coloring the letters. Chuuya reads the note once, twice and then once more to confirm. He knew it! These oily bastards with a dramatic flair are absolute kryptonites to his sanity. He balls the paper and throws it in the bin. The exhaustion of the whole day and his meagre alcohol tolerance hits him finally and he goes to sleep. Whatever could happen, would happen anyways. As that bastard said: if nothing else, Murphy’s law baby!
The message had one line written : Follow Chiquitita.
—
What Chiquitita? Who is Chiquitita? Isn’t that an ABBA song? What does this mean? Chuuya is clutching his head in his hands, groaning at both the annoying hangover and the even more annoying note. He debates going out to go around the village again when there is a loud ‘woof’ right outside his window.
Chuuya cannot be that much of a lightweight that two glasses of wine carry over their influence to the next morning. He would have to quit completely if he turns out to be that big of a loser. But then there is a very similar rattle of his window panes and another series of loud barks. Alright, so that might be another clue to this shitshow.
Chuuya opens the window and is attacked by a huge Napolean Mastiff, tackling him to the floor and licking his face all over. Chuuya is simultaneously euphoric at this handful of joy on him and suspicious at the use of an animal for the job. He sits up and scratches the baby behind her ears as she woofs and pants, all the while wagging her tail at an inhuman rate. He does not know what he did to be so loved by this baby, but holy shit! Chuuya would die for her! Chuuya would kill for her!
He goes to scratch her under her chin when he sees the nametag - Chiquitita. Heh! Truly dramatic as hell. “Alright girl. Show me the way.” Chiquitita jumps up and Chuuya follows getting up. She strangely drags him to the window tugging at his pants. Maybe there is a portal at play? Or a ride? Nothing, absolutely nothing prepared him to see the dog jump right off the window. Chuuya’s heart stopped for a split second and then he was jumping after her.
Only to see her flapping her ears to fly above the roofs. What? Wait, pause, rewind. Chiquitita is flying over the rooftops by flapping her ears and nothing else. What the fuck is up with this town? Clearly the contact is an ability user. Perhaps an ability related to animals? Are they creating them? Or are they augmenting the poor things? The latter would end in a very gory conclusion for the person regardless of the mission.
“Borf!” Chuuya looked up and Chiquitita was looking impatiently at him, almost radiating the disappointed lady energy. And honestly, it wouldn’t do to keep the lady waiting. So, Chuuya floats up and starts following the dog. She glides through the way, twisting and turning, absolutely sure of her destination. Chuuya would give her all the pats and treats she wants after landing.
They land in the smack dab in the heart of the marketplace, right at the mouth of an alley. People don’t pay much attention to them which is bizarre in its own way. Are they used to this or is there an illusion at play? Chuuya thinks it might be the latter. Chiquitita runs off deep into the alley and Chuuya has to break into a sprint to follow. Right at a sharp corner she vanishes. Chuuya feels confused, only to see a chihuahua with a mean mug tugging at his pants. He has a petal-butterfly hovering around him and a similar nametag with the name Dancing Queen.
Chuuya snorts. So much for mysterious. This is a hardcore ABBA fan and you know what? Chuuya respects the dedication. He keeps sprinting after every new dog that appears. The village that seemed so small yesterday feels like a goddamned royal maze today. And the dogs are playing relay race with him as the baton. Not that Chuuya minds. The chihuahua Dancing Queen, the one-eyed Rottweiler Mamma Mia (Ha!), two Dobermans Santa Rosa and Ring Ring, a baby Border Collie Fernando and surprisingly a haughty Shih Tzu for the last corner, named Super Trouper. If Chuuya were a weaker man, he would sit there and play with these babies. But well…
The alley leads to a dead end but Super Trouper does not stop. She keeps trotting towards the wall and by now, Chuuya knows there will be something on the other side. She mouths at a corner and as he expected, it moves like a curtain covering the entrance to some room. He enters the place and it feels like someone ate every birthday pinata ever created and threw it up as a breakup revenge. It is colorful in the worst way possible. If he had forgotten about his hangover, well it has been reminded with neon streamers and balloons, glitter pillows and pastel curtains.
“Borf!” Chuuya turns around and all the other dogs pile into the space in a disciplined line and sit down by the couch one by one, in a row. It is honestly so endearing that Chuuya for a moment just wants to hug these babies until they are smushed with him.
“So much cuteness aggression, young man! But then again, you are eighteen.” A light, airy voice floats in. It has the whimsy of a witch with an underlying warning. The person comes into the space from some other portal. They are clearly the owner of this place, because the same being that threw up pinatas on the room also included the owner in their stylistic debauchery.
They are wearing long, flowy robes one would usually see in fantasy dramas and their hair is glittering (like actual glitter!) gold, braided into one long braid almost sweeping the floor. Their face is half covered by dark red tassels and they have a very smarmy smile on their face. The smile that usually means Chuuya will lose his temper in the next ten minutes.
Chuuya takes his hat off in respect and places it on his heart. “You know my age? Do you also know why I am here?”
“Ahaha! Mori’s boy has grown up so much. You were just here the other day.” Chuuya’s eye twitches in annoyance as they bring their hand to their hip. They are abnormally tall, almost seven feet, so that approximation is not wrong. It irks him to no end. How such a flashy person stays so hidden and unreachable is a mystery. “Oh dear. I don’t tell my secrets until the third date.”
Chuuya jolts at that. “You can hear my thoughts?”
“Oh nothing so grand, my boy!” They flap a hand in denial. “It is mere expectation and observation in a conversation. Let me introduce myself.” They bring their hand to their chest in a flourish and bow with a flair. “Call me McD.”
“What?!”
“Ahahaha! How cute.” Yep. This asshole will test his patience. “Well, since we shall never meet again, let me introduce myself properly to you, Nakahara Chuuya. My name is George MacDonald, my ability name is Phantastes and I love interior design.”
Chuuya looks around the house and nods. “Right.”
“Ahaha! Charming, so charming, Nakahara Chuuya.”
“You don’t have to say my government name everytime. Just Chuuya is fine.”
“Is it because of some complex with your surname? Perhaps distasteful memories?”
Chuuya scrunches his nose. “Are you sure you are not a mind reader?”
“No, no, never. People’s minds are filthy places. I would prefer to stay away from that.” They pull a chair with skull graffiti on it, which Chuuya cannot emphasize enough, clashes horribly with everything else. “Please sit. My manners must have left me for a bit. Would you like to drink something? Tea? Coffee? Water?”
“Tea would do. Thank you.” Chuuya takes the seat and waves the doggos to come to him. Trouper is the first one. She jumps on his lap and settles herself comfortably like a lady, which she is. The others tumble around him creating an adorable pile of furbabies around him. Chuuya almost forgets his work and mission.
George comes back with two cups and exclaims at the scene. “Oh dear! They have warmed up to you. How adorable!” Chuuya feels giddy at that. And then he looks at the cup and there is something really wrong with this person, because why is tea so colourful. There is indigo and orange in there. They can take the whimsy theme only so far. “It is a wonderful concoction I brewed for you, Chuuya. It is called ‘Wine without the hangover’.” Chuuya looks at them unimpressed and they burst out laughing.
Really, how much worse can it get? He takes a sip and okay, yeah, this asshole is hundred percent legit. “Can you give me the recipe?”
The tassels waft toan invisible breeze and there is a flash of gleaming red eyes. The dogs stand in attention, like they are startled into action. They smirk at Chuuya and ask, “Is this your first absolute truth, boy?”
Shit! Chuuya had forgotten. Three absolute truths. He was asking stupid questions one after the other. What if he had used up his chances? This was an absolute display of carelessness. One that was always covered by his partner. He lowers his head and shakes to signal a ‘no’.
“No worries! Young ones are always impulsive like this. Ah youth!” They sit on an equally atrocious chair with a middle finger graffiti and take a sip of whatever monstrosity their cup has. “Chuuya, tell me what it is you know about your mission and then carefully decide the three truths you want from me. I will tell you the price. If you pay it right here, right now, I shall conjure your truths in your cup. And if not, then this is where we depart.”
Clearly this is something his partner would have thrived in. Exercising his mackerel brain was equal to getting high on the good stash for him. He would seem to genuinely enjoy that. For a moment, Chuuya considers asking about that maniac. If he is truly dead or if Chuuya should wait up for whenever he returns. But if there is one thing Chuuya has absolute trust on, it is this partnership. If Chuuya cannot find him, then he is dead. And that is that.
“The target is ability user ARD-761 and they have gone rogue from a government facility after going nuts there. The most probable location of the target is Europe and they have multiple groups after them. Boss wants the ability user secured for us.”
“Hmm. And what would you need, gravity manipulator, to bring this prize home?”
Chuuya tries to think about it like Boss or Dazai would, but that is a stupid endevour. He is nothing like them. What he needs is simple and easy. “Tomorrow at 5pm, where will ability user ARD-761 be? How many others will be present to secure the target? And is the target capable of mass destruction like the one accused of?”
“Ahahaha!” George doubles down in laughter, banging their fist on the table. He wonders if he has gone about this the wrong way. The smarmy types never fail to confuse him. They compose themselves and look at Chuuya thoroughly amused. “Nakahara Chuuya, you are such a vexing boy. What about a name?”
“I can ask them that.” He shrugs. This is getting very tiring.
“Oh, fair enough!” They finish off the liquid in their cup and hold the empty thing to their ear. “Keep looking in your cup and you will see your answers there. The price will be a headache for later.”
“What if I don’t keep my word?”
“Young people should be a little more carefree. Do not worry. I believe you will keep your word and pay the price.” Chuuya shrugs at that. If the person themself is so lackadaisical, then he will focus on getting the answers first.
Their eyes glow red and the murky liquid in his cup clears up. On the surface a blurry image pops up as they keep going “uhuh” and “mhm” as if someone is talking to them through the cup from the other side. It is almost like the images projected are someone’s point of view which means this is a vision tracing the route for him.
Through the streets of a busy city, the perspective continues until it enters a casino named Monte Carlo and stops right there. That is a little dubious. This is one of the biggest casinos in Europe with influential clientele and definitely not a place a volatile ability user would be brought in at the risk of both mass destruction and turf wars. Something is not right.
Chuuya stays quiet though. As the fishy bastard often mentioned, Chuuya was impulsive and the key to solving a situation is by having all the relevant, available information at hand. When his cup clears again, George looks at him for a moment, nods to himself and holds up his two fingers in a V to signal the second answer.
This time the cup shows perspective from the eyes of something not human, and he knows that solely because someone used to watch nature documentaries to deal with insomnia and annoy Chuuya. Not that he minded it, the company though infuriating was welcome on dreary nights. There is a signet ring with a familiar coat of arms, a currency printing security ink vial with a blue rose by it, a teddy bear with eyes gouged out, an empty bullet casing with RBX engraved on it and a pair of bloody ballerina shoes.
As the cup clears again, Chuuya catalogues what these mean. The first is a government agency related to redundant royalties, well-known to operate in Europe. The second is the Bravta, the third is a single assassin famed in her field, the fourth an illegal arms company active in war torn regions with both sanctioned military and mercenary clientele and the fifth is a fucking ability organisation.
Every single one of them could find a way to be in the casino. And if all five of them are actually in there, how the hell will Chuuya extract the target without Corruption? And what insane ability did this user have to have such a diverse set of stalkers? Things might be worse than he expected.
He is jolted into awareness by a garish blinding handkerchief in a snakeskin pattern waved in front of him. Honestly, even a napkin in this lunatic’s home does not fail to give Chuuya a headache. He lifts his eyebrow in question.
“I thought you were about to cry with how serious you were being.” George shrugs.
“Hah?!” Chuuya snaps. “I was thinking.”
“That does not seem like your thing, young man. You might lose your hair if you do such dangerous things.” They continue while conveniently raising his blood pressure. The only accurate response to this would be throwing the cup at their head, but well.
“The third answer please.” Chuuya grits out.
“Yes, yes~” They wave off and the liquid inside shows the image of a young girl around Chuuya’s age. It is remarkable how much it feels like looking into a mirror. He cannot close his eyes and he cannot throw up, he has to commit the image to his memory. The image of a girl with her body warped into something inhuman and devastating. Her face is twisted in agony and the rest of her body has turned into a grotesque, rotting tree trunk with people hanging from the branches, strangulated to death by them.
The liquid clears and so does Chuuya’s mind. George does not add anything, though Chuuya does not know whether to be grateful at the consideration or sick that someone knows how close to home this hits. No one survives after having their ability go this far. Whoever massacred the lab, died a wretched death with them. Which means that the ability user needed her help to get out and is perhaps a non-combatant.
Maybe the casino is a plausible place for handing over the target, maybe through a more peaceful means of confrontation for the different parties. An auction or something else? He feels something butting against his leg and looks down to see Mamma Mia looking up at him. The one-eyed Rottweiler might look the most roguish out of them all but surprisingly, he had the most lethal puppy eyes. It brings Chuuya out of his reverie.
“You did not ask for your price yet.” Chuuya says while sipping his tea (probably?).
“Finish your tea and let me calculate.” They bring out a very interesting looking abacus with discoball beads. Chuuya just looks away from the atrocity and focuses on his tea.
“So?”
“A night with me!” Chuuya spits out his tea.
“What the fuck?!” Did this smartass just come onto him?
“Ahahaha! My bad, my bad!” They flap their hand lazily. “It is just that you seemed heartbroken over your dead partner so-”
As soon as the words are out, Chuuya leaps over the table and grabs them by their collar. “Think before you speak. If you know everything about me, then you should try to be careful.”
“You should keep your cool around the dogs. They might get scared.” They pout and Chuuya drops his hand. The furbabies are all looking with varying states of curious gazes. Chuuya goes back to his seat and ruffles Mamma Mia. “Aw! You are a softie.”
“I am not! I am just following Boss’ orders and taking the logical route.”
“Logic does not seem like your thing, boy! Ah, ah, ah, don’t get angry! Fernando gets scared of loud people.” Chuuya zips his mouth at that and picks up the pup (very nonchalantly, mind you!) to wrap him up in his arms.
Hugging the pup soothes Chuuya in ways he hasn’t allowed to be in the past few months. The pup is small and soft with its fur surprisingly cold to touch. Chuuya’s mind blanks at the observation. He pets all of them and finds it eerily similar. Did this asshole do something to them? If they did, there might be some trouble for them.
“What did you do to the dogs? Why are they so cold to touch?”
“Hmm~ You really are the other half of Double Black, young man. To pick up so quickly on such a subtle thing.” They take a sip of their tea and lay their cheek on their palm. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”
“And satisfaction brought it back.” Mackerel always said that using one half of a saying is just plain annoying.
“Well, true.” They shrug. “I don’t want to make an enemy of the Double Black anyways. My ability, Phantates, is to breathe life into anything I create with my own hands. When the intended assignment is complete, they go back to their initial state.”
Chuuya thinks back to the butterfly turning to a piece of paper after confirming Chuuya’s identity and the sheer number of unrelated materials lying in this guy’s house. It would make sense in that case. The bougainvilleas around the town and the insect vision in his tea cup point to creating creepers and insects to spy anywhere and everywhere. They are good, really good at what they do.
“What will happen to them then?” Chuuya asks them, holding Fernando tighter.
“They will turn into cushions.”
Chuuya looks horrified. “No. What? What the fuck? Nope.” He subtly tries to get them all behind him.
“Now, now, young man.” For the first time Chuuya sees George panicking. “They are cushions, you know. Like the one you are sitting on? Mamma Mia has an eye missing because the cushion had an open seam. And they can always be brought back when needed. Their brains are actually cotton fluff…” They awkwardly trail off looking at Chuuya’s face.
Chuuya is an emotional man but he knows how to acknowledge and process them, accept his lot in life and move on. It has been a very effective way to survive years of loss and betrayal. He also cannot stop himself from sniffling for cushion doggies. How is it fair that they were brought to life on someone’s whim and when they follow their orders faithfully, their only reward is erasure of their existence?
They did not know why they were brought into this world. They just got a glimpse of life thanks to a smartass charmer, danced to their master’s tune and became useful in the only way they could, and now they will be abandoned by the only one they trusted in this world. Maybe he is projecting or maybe he has lost his mind, but Chuuya is not letting these babies be murdered by this know-it-all snake.
“Um.” George starts and then immediately shuts up seeing Chuuya’s glare. Though it is more of trying not to agitate the boy into a full-blown crying session. “Do you want to keep the dogs?”
“I can’t.” He replies morosely. “I am a mafia executive. I will never have the time to raise them.”
“Uh. They don’t really need anything because they are cushions.” The word is clearly a trigger because Chuuya sniffs loudly at that and then coughs to cover up miserably. “I mean they are not physiologically similar to regular dogs. As long as they have a mission, they will exist. Food, water and all of that is just surplus they can indulge in.”
“I cannot take them on walks everyday.”
“They can fly, you know.” George seemed to be getting slightly back to his groove. “As long as you tell them to be back by a certain signal, it is all good. You can keep them because I don’t think I can.”
“What if they miss you?” Chuuya asks gloomily. “What if one day they wake up and want to see that tacky smile?” George’s eye twitches at that.
“I believe that would not happen. Their brains are basically cotton mush.” Chuuya’s lip wobbles at that. “Goddamn teenage melodrama.” They mutter and paste a somewhat reassuring smile. “If I need their service, I will ask you to send them my way and they won’t miss me that way.”
“Okay.” He holds Fernando tightly and feels his heart breaking. How easy is it to throw away loyalty and move on for people like them? “I will never let them want for anything.”
“Wow. Sure.” They deadpan. “Let’s get back to the price.”
“A night with you?”
“No way.” They smile and clap their hands. “I have a much better option. Please finish my tea and tell me how it is. It is a side hustle, you see and I want feedback before releasing it in the market.”
Chuuya looks skeptically at the clear liquid. They are definitely nuts but Chuuya is too tired to care. He gulps down the tea. “It does not have a smell or flavour or anything really. It won’t sell.”
“Oh, it will.” There they go again with that playful look which means they know something Chuuya does not and that is very amusing to them.
“I will take my leave then.” Chuuya says trying to recover whatever meagre dignity he has left.
“Yes, yes, it was a pleasure. Let me cast a spell on them before you leave.” They point to the dogs. “They will exist as long as you wish for them to accompany you. The day you get tired of them, they will turn back.”
“I will never tire of them.”
“Sure, young man.”
Chuuya leaves the place with vital intelligence on his mission and seven fluffy sweethearts in tow, feeling unusually light.
George sighs after he leaves. “I need to tell Mori to never send teenagers after bad breakups. Or to get a goddamn therapist for his young guys. It was one wrong step away from a complete meltdown over a boy and I am not capable of handling that, you know, Rasputin. Of course, you do.” They tell the Scottish Fold they are weaving with party streamers.
—
The next day, Chuuya arrives at Monaco and leaves his dogs at his hotel room, before leaving for the casino. It is almost five in the evening when he gets in posing as a young master looking for a night of fun.
He has been pouring through the blueprints throughout the day and has a fairly clear idea of where the deal might happen. Bypassing the first floor of security to get to the VIP area is easy, but that might be because of the sheer volume of people packed in the house. A highend entertainment venue usually does not get this many visitors on a Thursday night, which means more than half of them are with the organisations.
And if the crowd was not indicative enough, the way most of these people hold themselves scream of trained professionals. The social misfit often said, if you look properly at people, every secret of theirs will be painted on their faces. It was easy for him to say with that big brain constantly working on overdrive to decode everything. Chuuya did not have that luxury, so he is picking pockets at random.
RBX bullets, blue roses on lapels and pockets, signet ring symbols on business cards and so on pointed to the establishment being infiltrated by the interested parties. And if everyone was looking for the target, there would be far more movement. This relaxed pace signals a peaceful negotiation, probably something that had been agreed on beforehand.
He has not put on a disguise because once his ability comes into play, it would be pretty easy to deduce his identity. The whole place is twisted into a maze with a subtle but very effective security system. That womaniser would have solved it in under an hour.
He rounds the floors once, twice, thrice to get an idea of the layout and the people. There seem to be lots of guns going around which would be extremely useful once a fight starts. By the time evening falls, things are still hopeless. He has no idea where the target is or where the main event is. Taking a page out of his partner’s book, he swipes a gun from an RBX guy who was in a heated exchange with the bravta people over a card game.
The moment the dealer calms them down, Chuuya uses his ability to bury two bullets into the bravta guy. The effect is immediate. Every gun in the room is pulled out and the RBX guy is riddled with holes. Subsequently, it is a complete mayhem. Chuuya pushes through the barrage of bullets while looking for a sneaky link. Grunts would not know the specifics of a mission but would damn well know where to report during said mission.
One of the guys with a signet ring was tapping furiously on his phone. Chuuya floats up and leans over his shoulder to catch the words. The guy seems high up on the chain, so he breaks his neck and takes the phone. The messages exchanged are in code, which while not uncommon in their field, are an absolute nightmare for him.
His vision goes blurry for a second which is hell of an inconvenience. It might be sleep deprivation or low blood pressure, not uncommon for him. He shuts himself in a washroom stall and focuses back on the messages. Chuuya does not have a lot of time but he still goes through every message on the chat diligently to scope out even the most insignificant clue.
His throat chokes up in helplessness remembering someone who would need only a glance for this. He had become so reliant on that presence and now he is utterly worthless on his own. Was it Boss' way of showing him how lacking he is or is it his punishment for the same? The phone feels heavy in his hand and so does his head. He makes out two beady, plastic eyes and a big spoon with the word ‘donor’ captioned before he crushes the phone.
Losing control of his ability because of a dizzy spell has not happened to him since ages. It is not good, especially in this situation. His hands start shaking though that is very weird since he is not scared or nervous. But if this keeps up, he might be. Atleast the message and the chats hinted at one thing - the person delivering the target to this negotiation is the Sabre-Toothed Tiger. She is mostly an assassin with her trademark being ripping out the eyes of her targets, but she also does other jobs based on the pay. And this one, right here, might be way above her pay grade.
She is also someone Chuuya does not want to encounter. Her ability to turn anything, even humans, into weapons at her disposal makes her a pain in the ass. But it also means that atleast one enemy here is predictable. The eye freak would most likely want to be as discreet as possible while getting the most out of this shitshow. But this level of disturbance is bound to get her into action.
He runs out of the stall with them, into the corridor, where things have calmed down. As in there’s a deluge of dead bodies. He jumps out a window and takes the outside walls to be quicker. The handover has to take place somewhere guarded but tasteful. As he runs up the building, he senses that familiar killing intent on the sixth floor. Jumping in, he realises he was a tad bit too late.
Two people with blue roses on their coat pockets are lying dead with their throats slit from paper cash and eyes gouged out. For such a swift murder, there seems to be no trace of the murder weapon or any excess cash. So, the bravta had tried to get the target before the negotiations and she ended their lives while also pocketing the cash. As expected of the pesky cat.
The director’s chambers were also supposed to be on this floor and seem to be the intended place. Keeping to the ceiling, he lurks around the floor until he gets to the director’s office. It is a soundproof chamber with three layers of security and autonomous guard bots. Breaking through the doors might be the only option. Oh well, here goes nothing!
The door breaks and he comes face to face with a few surprised faces. Or maybe terrified, who knows? The Tiger is standing behind the target, who seems like a young girl, with hands and feet tied to a chair and eyes blindfolded. There is no sign of any ability suppressing devices which means she actually is a non-lethal target.
There are a few known and unknown faces. Definitely some dogs of royalty with their obnoxious symbol on their swords and rings and uniform insignia. There’s one bravta avtoriet who is also the pakhan’s step brother, a couple of mercenary leaders who are RBX’s faithful clientele and the entire ability organisation, Musashi. The last might be out of Chuuya’s league with how they have been travelling warriors for years with a modus operandi similar to Mimic.
A sudden dizzy spell sways him and he swears he can hear the Tiger laughing silently at him. She had entered this business decades before he was born. Anyone who lasts this long in this line is either the greatest backstabber or the strongest ability user. Unfortunately, she is both. The target, no, the girl is mumbling something to herself while holding the hand of one of the Musashi guys. He has a look on his face Chuuya would rather not remember, but he would rather like to wipe off that disgusting old leecher off this planet.
Three different candlesticks come at him with varying speeds before he dodges them while breaking the neck of a guard sneaking upon him. His ability could have stopped them and it is really not funny how this is the moment he loses control of it. Atleast his reflexes are still functional. Musashi never had an ability nullifier. Is it one of the others?
There’s a barrage of bullets which he obviously stops and almost instantaneously buries them in the middle of their foreheads with flawless precision. The speed and perfection baffle him, because his ability flickered back in a few moments. His vision is going blurry again and he is starting to feel a little scared. If it goes like this, he might not survive. A few Musashi guys and a few royalty dogs are dead.
“Ohoho! You won’t win against this kid with bullets. He is the gravity manipulator. Mori must be feeling left out. You should have called him as well, Director.” The Tiger seems utterly relaxed while spamming useless junk at him with her ability. Maybe they are not so useless given the Director seems to be going pale everytime Chuuya crushes them.
“Why would he? They say the Demon has turned his back on Mori. What use would it be to call a man who loses control of his own dogs?” That bravta fool! Chuuya lunges at him but the guy uses his ability to trip him with a vine. His ability flickers out again and in a second he is on his knees, bound by vines with blue roses and swords and guns pointed at him. The more he struggles to free himself, the more they suffocate him. Maybe he should use Corruption.
The thought does not make him despair. Instead, he imagines ripping out every throat in this building and then meeting his partner in hell. They would be right at home there. He snorts at his daydream. His vision is blurry and his ability is gone, the vines are choking him and he has no allies in this place. Boss definitely sent him here to die. Fuck! He should have known it would come to this. He closes his eyes in acceptance.
A pained scream comes from his left followed by a defeated sob. A repulsive vision of a lab and a scientist comes to him. He had forgotten his conviction to get this person out of a life similar to his. His ability surges with a vengeance, almost like it is trying to reach the state of Corruption. He tears off the vines and crushes the skull of the avtoriet.
“Fuck! Not good, not good. I will be off with my share then.” The Tiger collects her bags and punches a hole in the wall to jump off. Clearly, the strongest and the most faithless one.
But that hardly matters. Someone tries to get to the girl and the old man but Chuuya rips his head off first. She is still mumbling and in pain, which means she has little awareness of this situation. Two swords come swinging at his sides. He jumps on top of the cross they form and pulverizes their wielders into ground meat.
The target has to have some insane ability for every single one of the buyers to still stay after this show of brutality. His ability feels teetering on the brink of control. He is terrified of it but whatever works at this point. Musashi’s leader has the ability to make his subordinates a master of their weapons. The usual brute force is not working on them which makes this instance of ability explosion useful.
He goes for the mercenary guys next, decapitating the two of them with a whip of his leg. He takes a look around the room and finds twelve still left standing. Whipping out his knife, he rushes at them. Time blurs and so does the room, but Chuuya keeps his focus on. It has been a while since he felt he could die in a fight. He cannot stop smirking as he spills blood in this cramped room.
Has it been a minute or a day? Chuuya has no idea. But he is standing amidst a massacre of his own creation, with his heart beating a mile a minute and his ability going haywire. The girl is still there, mumbling deliriously, with a sheen of sweat on her face. She has to be the priority right now. So, he sucks it up, walks up to her and rips off her bindings. She looks terrified of him and well, that makes sense. The room is stacked with pieces of dead men and the only one alive is a crazy teenager. A sane person would be well within their rights to fear him.
He kneels down in front of her and thinks of what words would work right now. The mackerel could dial up his charm to gain the trust of any woman. But Chuuya is not like him, so he does what he does best - be honest. It would either work out or he would have to use force.
“Sorry about this. I know it looks really bad, but that is because it is. And I know you have been through a lot. Would you mind if I get you out? My boss from Port Mafia asked me to get you.” The girl flinches. Chuuya thinks he is being incredibly stupid when he says the next words but he just cannot stop himself. It's like watching himself through a cracked mirror. “But if you don’t want to, then I will find a way to hide you. I promise you”
The girl looks up at that. She takes his hand and puts it on her wrist. He looks down and sees a name tattooed on it. “Tsushima Yuko. Is that your name?” The girl nods. “Alright, Tsushima-san,” the girl shakes her head vehemantly. “Yuko-san?” She nods in affirmation. “What do you want to do?”
All through this conversation, Yuko has not once ceased her mumblings. Chuuya is a little concerned but ignores it regardless. Until she pulls off his glove with a truly impressive speed. Chuuya, blindsided by this sudden aggression, tries to pull his hand back. But Yuko was raised in a lab and Chuuya was a fool to forget that. She brings up his index finger to her lips and bites down hard. He yelps and tries to shake her off, but there is an animalistic desperation on her face. It is hard to put up a fight against such naked fear, so he backs down as she draws blood with her bite and sucks up the blood.
“Desire never ends in desire alone. How faithful the body is to the spirit.”
Three things happen simultaneously as Yuko utters those ominous words - she faints immediately, Chuuya feels tell-tale signs of Corruption and a truly impressive number of people break in through the office door. He is so obviously fucked but feels surprisingly calm. He is either going home or crossing River Styx.
Picking up the unconscious weirdo in his arms and cradling her into a secure position, he jumps into the fray. There are bullets and machetes and unexpectedly, fists raining on him from all over. Not a single one reach them. Every little thing in his vicinity is startingly clear on his radar and absolutely in his control. By the third corridor, people are panicking and slowly recognising who he is. But that hardly matters. He will raze this building to the ground if he needs to.
Power has never felt so perfect in his hands. Is this why his partner liked making him use Corruption? To have destruction start and stop at his command must have been addictive. It is such a shame that even that could not keep him attached to life. He jumps off a ledge onto the roof of the next building. Most of the people involved in this deal are dead and the remaining few grunts are no threat to him as of now. He grips Yuko tighter as he tries to map an inconspicuous route to his hotel. One look behind alerts him of incoming law enforcement.
The place will be swarming in an hour. He whistles and Mamma Mia appears. In a minute, he is playing a relay race with his dogs yet again throughout the city. Albeit rude, he cannot stop thinking how Yuko feels heavier by the minute. His body is shutting down with exertion and only the promise to protect her keeps him on his feet.
After a gruelling thirty minutes of running through the shadows, he finally reaches his hotel room and lays her on the single bed. Now Chuuya is fatigued but definitely not crazy. So it absolutely does not make sense that the girl he has brought with him suddenly has the biggest baby bump. But before he can get to the bottom of it, his exhaustion hits him violently and he is falling unconscious.
—
When Chuuya opens his eyes, he feels fur up his nose and probably all of his dogs piled on him. It takes him a couple of minutes to place where he is and then he jolts up dislodging his babies. The girl from his mission - Yuko - is still there and she absurdly has that baby bump on her. Chuuya has a very bad feeling about it, confirmed by the slightly guilty looks thrown his way.
“Is this, uh, your ability? Is it going to burst open?” He cannot hold it in.
“Good morning, Nakahara Chuuya-san.”
He raises an eyebrow, perplexed. “I never gave you my name, Yuko-san.”
“Ah!” She looks away sounding wary. “A butterfly came for you in the morning. Um, maybe a butterfly-shaped letter?” She tilts her head in thought. “Anyways, it turned into a piece of paper with a message and then dissolved away after my second read.”
Yep, it was that scammer. Chuuya knew people like them were bound to be a headache. “Did it say something about a new tea blend?” He grits out.
“Uh huh. Something about if the product worked well and if there were side effects. Oh, he also congratulated you about,” she gestures at her whole self and shrugs, “me.”
Chuuya closes his eyes and sighs loudly in frustration. The tea must have enhanced his ability to an almost Corruption-like state now that he thinks about it. Obviously something like that will sell like hotcakes. No wonder Boss knew the guy. Chuuya will never lose having that cheatcode. Regardless, Yuko tried her best at controlling the conversation, except being toyed around in conversations is something the mackerel drilled into his bones.
“I don’t know if I can be congratulated unless I know what is going on with,” he gestures similarly at her,”you.”
She scratches her cheek with her finger like a nervous tick. “It is your baby.”
“WHAT?!”
She flinches but looks at him mulishly. “I said it is a baby and it is yours. This is my ability - Child of Fortune. Creating a child with any ability in half a day.”
Chuuya feels his jaw drop involuntarily. He thought the biggest uproar in his life was when his partner went radiosilent, but clearly he had no idea how much worse it could get. So much starts making sense now - the influential clients, the high-profile venue, the secrecy and security and the bloodshed.
“Explain. Don’t leave out a single detail.”
“My name is Tsushima Yuko. I was created in a lab. You might know me as ARD-761. My ability to create children is with cell division and differentiation at an extremely abnormal rate. And grant them any ability I wish for.” She takes a deep breath and continues. “The war left many people convinced that ability users were absolutely necessary as a defence mechanism. The professor who created me believed blood never betrays itself.” There is a bitter smile on her face. “He called me his daughter. I believed it for a long time. I was only a prototype though.”
Chuuya cannot bear to look at her. It really is like looking at a cracked mirror. “And that is why those powerful assholes were trying to get to you. Figures having a kid with a strong ability would seem like an asset to them.”
“Yes. Powerful men can get very vile about their legacies. But I was pretty defective, which is in hindsight, a blessing. I can only activate the ability if I truly trust a person.”
“But you didn’t even know my name? Are you nuts?” He feels very concerned about this girl.
“Who doesn’t know about Double Black? And the Tiger was going on and on about how the demon prodigy is gone, so logically you were the gravity manipulator. You were the only one kind to me in that room.” She rakes her hand through her hair in frustration. “And you are a lab kid just like me.”
“How do you fucking know that?” His hold on his temper slips for a moment but the effect is immediate. Yuko’s eyes are wet but her lips press into a hard line.
“Judy told me. She always told me stories. She was a natural born ability user recruited by the professor. She helped me escape the lab.” Chuuya suddenly remembers the grotesque display of death and destruction George had shown him. She wipes her eyes. “The professor always brought men into the lab to create ability users for them. But those clumps of cells never survived till birth. He would not give up bringing people but it was so, so hard. Judy was the only good thing there. It would hurt to have lives grow inside you and to lose them, but he did not care. Nobody did in that hellhole. Only Judy would.” She is crying by now and he cannot just keep watching it.
He gets up and wraps his arms around her as she cries into his chest. “I hated those men. I hated their smiles. I hated the way they looked at me. I hated the things any child would have to go through with them. Maybe that manifested into my ability. I don’t know. I was only fourteen when he brought the first man.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes as if the words physically hurt.
In this moment, all he could do was hold this stranger close as she let it all out. She tries to burrow her face into his chest as he rests his hand between her shoulder blades, rubbing soothing circles. “You are here. You are not there anymore. Judy got you out.”
“Uh huh. She did. But she is dead because of me. I wish I never told her to get me out. I wish I was strong enough to endure all of that, if only it kept my Judy beside me. I would give anything to have her sit outside my cell and tell me stories of the outside world. I love her,” she gasps as if the realisation just hit her. “Oh god, I love her. I want her back. Why was I so weak, Nakahara-san?”
Chuuya feels his own eyes getting wet. All of this hits too close to home. A dead partner, a late realisation and burning grief that it leaves behind. Chuuya’s voice breaks but he says, “There is nothing we can do. Only live on for their sake.”
Yuko raises her head and looks at him. There must have been something on his face because solidarity settles in her eyes as she takes his hand. “Yeah. We will live.”
There is not much to say after that. They both sit together, settling in their own grief and loss, with Chuuya’s dogs for comfort. A message on his burner phone indicates he is late for his daily mission report. For the very first time in his life, he ignores a work message. He would anyway not disclose anything before talking it out with Yuko.
“It is important, isn’t it? About me?” Yuko is new to the outside world, but she is sharp nonetheless.
“Yes. Boss wants to know the extraction status. What do you want, Yuko-san? I promised I would get you out if you wanted to.”
“Hardly. This child will be the safest with you. So will I.” She tries to look assured but cannot hide the tension in her frame. “I will do whatever you ask of me, so if you-”
“A promise is a promise.” And it is that simple to Chuuya. He will protect this person and this kid, no matter what. Perhaps having a child when they are both fucking eighteen is something that will punch him in the guts later, but right now he will need to sort everything out. “And we are close to hitting the twelve hour mark. So, what do you want, Yuko-san?”
“Nakahara-san, I-”
“Chuuya. Call me Chuuya.”
“Chuuya-san, I will go with you and I will not burden you with the child. Just keep us safe, please.”
“What if I want to share the responsibility of this child? Would that be okay?”
She rests her against his shoulder. “I cannot build a family with you though. A friend maybe. But my heart is Judy’s. Would you still want to share the responsibility of this child?”
“Yes.” The sky looks gloomy like it is itching to wash away the melancholic blue on the people of this room. “I don’t think I will ever have a partner again, Yuko-san.”
She lifts her pinky finger and wags in his direction. He grips it and seals the deal. “Judy used to say anyone who broke a pinky promise is scum.”
“She was right.”
“Let us do right by this baby and the ones who left us behind.” Chuuya smiles and then the grip turns painful. “Not to ruin the moment but I am going into labour. I hope you know what to do about that.”
The next seven hours are simultaneously the most hectic and embarrassing seven hours of his life. One of the hotel staff, a very old grandma, who manages the kitchen is called by her colleagues to help out the pair of teens who clearly have no clue what they are doing. Yuko insists on a home birth, which results in very dirty looks at him throughout the whole labour process. No doubt, he can never come back here, what with his reputation being that of a lowlife who took safe sex as a joke.
He learns never to take Yuko lightly because that girl has a monstrous grip strength and a very interesting vocabulary which will haunt him for days. He is also nauseous seeing all the blood and pain involved in this process. The baby is extremely wrinkly with scant orange hair and bright blue eyes like a compressed version of Chuuya. Yuko merely sighed hearing that and wrapped him up in her arms. Chuuya just keeps having life-changing revelations throughout the day like this wailing bundle is his kid, his lawfully and biologically mandated kid.
He keeps peeking at the baby and staggering back to his chair beside a sleeping Yuko. After the thirteenth time, the old grandma shoos him away to get dinner. He is dazed and confused as he walks down the hallway. He turns a corner, checks both sides and lets out a loud whoop. He has no idea why he did that but he is feeling giddy and reckless. Are these mood swings healthy? It is going to be a long night.
—
Three weeks later, they are standing in front of his Boss and Ane-san, looking frazzled and half-dead with a sleeping baby in their arms. Chuuya has always felt like the top brass of Port Mafia are unflappable characters unlike him. He was very wrong. Mori has been petrified for the last ten minutes after their explanation. Elise looks like Christmas has been declared the default state of the world. Ane-san keeps going through five stages of grief in a loop while making tea for half the city. The office only has so many tea sets.
“What did you name the child, lad?” She is on her twenty-fourth cup. Chuuya has very valid concerns about the number of cups his Boss keeps in this office. What else does this creepy place hold?
“Shion. He is Nakahara Shion.” They had brainstormed the hell out of that fifteen hour flight. Whoever decided parenthood was not for teenagers had an absolutely accurate idea, because Chuuya and Yuuko had been so busy trying to simultaneously get three people to sleep at the same time that they totally forgot to name their kid. They realised their blunder when they got their fake passports for the trip.
“That is a beautiful name for a beautiful boy,” her hands shake as she pours another brew, “whose father is a boy as well.” Her voice is shaking as well. Chuuya and Yuuko take a step back.
“Koyou-kun, calm down. We have to be the adults here.” His smile is twitching in a way that reminds Chuuya of badly made zombie thrillers. Elise seems to have been dismissed. It makes sense if the conversation is going to get serious. “Chuuya-kun, Yuuko-kun, sit down.”
They make themselves comfortable on the couch. Yuuko very carefully deposits Shion in his arms. One wrong movement would mean hours of wailing. Chuuya maneuvers the baby at snail’s pace until he is comfortably rested in his arms. His Ane-san looks at him in tears, teacups forgotten. Mori looks at him like he is a fascinating specimen on his autopsy table. Chuuya takes it in stride.
“As I said, I will take care of Yuuko and Shion. They will be under my protection.” He bows his head as low as he can. “I am not here for permission. I am here to inform you of my decision.”
“Oho! That is alright. I must say I am positively surprised with this development,” Chuuya bristles at that and Mori raises his hands to placate him. “Let me finish, Chuuya-kun. I am surprised, but not displeased. You did your very best, I believe so. You always have.”
Chuuya lowers his eyes, unsure how to react to the compliment. “It is my duty, Boss.”
“That it is.” He looks over at Yuuko and in a deceptively polite voice says, “but you have also brought in a liability, Chuuya-kun.”
“Boss-”
“The young lady’s ability is very lucrative to a lot of important people.” His boss never cuts him off, so his rudeness betrays his apprehension about Yuuko. It is not that Chuuya does not realise how Yuuko’s presence puts the whole organisation in danger, but he made a promise and he intends to keep it. “Tsushima-san’s relation with the Port Mafia puts us all in a very precarious position, with both our allies and our adversaries. What should we do about it?”
Yuuko looks down and there is a tightness in her eyes which speaks of fear, only if one looks carefully. Chuuya tries to assure them, but she holds his hand and nods to indicate her conviction. “Mori-san, first of all, thank you for letting me and Shion in here.” Mori looks surprised at Yuuko speaking up. “I know what risks it poses to have us here. I will do my best to contribute to your organisation in any way possible, so please do not put this responsibility on Chuuya-san.”
“Tsushima-san, I do not know you that well to put you to use for my organisation. But I do know of your ability.” The implication in those words chills Chuuya to the core. He has always known Mori’s less-than-palatable ways of running the mafia, but there are lines he believed would not be crossed.
“Take that back, Boss.” The tension seems tangible in the room as everything around him floats up. Elise is back in an instant and so is Ane-san’s Golden Demon.
“Lad, calm down.” She seems to be debating which side will face her sword. He looks at her with what must be an age-old helplessness that only peeked out in his sister’s presence and Golden Demon swiftly puts her blade in Boss’ direction. “Boss, we are not an organisation so green that a couple of regular lowlifes will threaten our existence.”
Mori looks unphased, though there is a sharpness in his voice when he replies. “We are not so green solely because our predecessors decided to be prudent about our survival and our strengths, Kouyou-kun.”
“Uh,” Yuuko raises her hand shakily, like a particularly unsure student coming up with an equally unsure answer. All eyes turn to her. “My ability activates only when I completely trust a person and their character. There are two steps to the process, first to activate the ability and second, to ingest the DNA of the person and say the words to complete the process. Once the first step is completed, the second must also be done. If not, then my life is forfeit. I only took in Chuuya-san’s DNA because the first step was activated. Um, what I am trying to say is, I don’t think I can help a lot.”
“Well then. College it is.” Mori shrugs, with a nonchalance belittling this whole conversation. Chuuya, blindsided, loses hold of his ability for a second, resulting in all twenty-seven cups crashing down like a badly made cartoon scene. Immediately, Shion wakes up and starts crying like the world is ending. Elise jerks away into oblivion which equally relieves and annoys Chuuya (his kid isn’t so bad, come on!). Golden Demon looks flabbergasted, but so does his Boss and Ane-san.
Yuuko picks him out of Chuuya’s hands and apologetically looks at them. “I will take him out to calm him.” Mori waves his hand, still looking green. Chuuya hands her the bottle as she adjusts him to a more comfortable hold, like a well-oiled machine. “Finish the talk, alright?” She whispers. Chuuya nods and then presses a kiss on his wailing machine’s forehead.
After they are out, Ane-san looks at the mess and then at him and his Boss in reproach. They both look and feel guilty. “Why can two men never have a proper conversation? Why must it turn to this?”
“Sorry, Ane-san.”
“My apologies, Kouyou-kun.”
“And now my sweet nephew is crying.” No one brings up the fact that there were twenty-seven cups of tea on the table or that they were the result of one person’s minor meltdown. They might make mistakes, but they are not idiots.
Chuuya starts cleaning up the mess with his ability, but he needs to know what Mori meant. “What was it about college, Boss?”
“Ah, well. We have an Ability Permit now, so Mori corporation will expand. If you wish to protect Yuuko-kun, then she should become the face of Mori corp. There will be a lot of people who would think twice before attacking someone with such a public presence. And we can always put out a word that the ability was a one-time thing. McD could help with that.”
Chuuya chokes at his Boss saying McD. The last few days have seemed surreal, but this might be the peak of it all. Regardless, Mori’s plan is not bad. It would work. And if there were still idiots who would dare attack his friend or his kid, well, Chuuya has never claimed to be a good person, has he?
“Thank you, Boss.”
Mori waves him off. “Hardly an issue. We are a family, aren’t we?”
Chuuya feels warm at that. He has this Port Mafia family of his, a friend who shares the same wounds as him and his kid. Life takes from him indiscriminately, violently, like it has a vendetta against him. But it also gives him back sometimes. And Chuuya can survive with that, he can grit his teeth and wipe his tears to move forward with just that.
He kneels down in front of Mori’s desk, not unlike he did three years ago, presses his hat to his chest and lowers his head in sincere subservience. “Yes, Boss. And as long as you need me, I will be here.”
Elise ruffles his hair and Mori laughs softly. “I am grateful, Chuuya-kun. Now hurry along and get your boy to sleep. As a doctor, I am inclined to comment on how sleep-deprived you both look. Elise can always babysit the little one.”
Chuuya loves Elise as a little sister and feels pretty fond of her antics and tantrums, but he will eat his fucking hand before letting her babysit Shion. He does not say any of that, instead nodding his head in agreement. Ane-san seems to have caught on to that, as she smiles knowingly.
“My girls would love to have the boy there as well, lad.” Now that would be acceptable. Ane-san cups his cheek and rubs her thumb in affection. “I will send some gifts for my nephew. Bring him and your friend to me sometime. I would love to meet them properly.”
“Yes, Ane-san.”
He turns around before shutting the door. “Ah, Boss, McD is a sort of fake name they give for fun. Their name is George MacDonald.” He shuts the door to Mori’s sputtering and Ane-san’s muffled laughter.
He leaves feeling unusually light and content. For the first time in days, the halls of this building don’t haunt him with his partner’s absence. He does not know if that is a good thing or yet another loss.
—
Once the door closes, Kouyou’s face hardens. “You were lenient with him, Boss. Uncharacteristically so.”
“Was I?” Mori tilts his head in confusion, which they both know is feigned.
“You were not this lenient with the other boy. Does this one not scare you like the other one?”
Mori smiles at her, like he is mocking her in some way. Kouyou’s hands fist in anger. “You should know by now that I am a cautious man. And Soukoku may have acted like they are a single soul in two bodies, but they are ultimately very different people, Kouyou-kun.”
Elise drops a phone in her hand with a video paused on it. Playing it Kouyou witnesses destruction incarnate in a small hotel room which then branches through the halls and floors indiscriminately until escaping through the rooftop. Kouyou realises on her third watch that she is watching Chuuya rampage, with an unconscious Yuuko in his arms, like he is corrupted yet lucid.
“What is the meaning of this?” Her voice is tinged with the confusion she feels.
“Exactly what you see. Chuuya-kun was doped with a creation of this McD -”, he clears his throat, “George-kun, which amplified his ability while keeping his senses.” Mori sounds grave with his next words. “He is the only one who survived it apparently. And George-kun theorises that it might have been just Chuuya-kun’s sheer willpower and nothing else that altered the result.”
“A drug? How could you-”
“I did not. Who do you take me for Kouyou-kun?” He closes his eyes in frustration and rubs his temple. “That being pulls pranks like these every once in a while. They are unpredictable.” He looks up and stares at her with a healthy amount of disquiet. “But Chuuya-kun did all of this for a stranger. A stranger he now has a child with. If either one is harmed, how do you think he would react? And who is to say that Mc-, George-kun would not aid him?”
Kouyou realises that Mori might be more shaken up than she is about all of this. And isn’t that a kick? To think their seemingly undefeatable Port Mafia boss terrified of the doped version of her eighteen year old brother. Mori must have realised that the Demon Prodigy shaped skeleton in his closet might be a bigger risk than he calculated it to be. His attempts at giving Chuuya a replacement for what was lost is also a product of said fear.
Kouyou smiles to herself. Her Boss might be a brilliant strategist on the field, but he is often ignorant of the human costs of his calculations. As she leaves for the day, she cannot help but wonder if raging against her old boss might have protected the man she loved, if people in power can also feel scared if faced with the wrath of the grieving.
—
Dazai is having a wonderful day. His protege has been tricked into completing his paperwork and his work partner is looking for him in a different part of the city. The sun is shining, the birds are singing and his noose loosened last night before it could snuff him out leading to a drinking spree - so business as usual.
And it is about to get better as he spots ginger hair around the corner. He hums, pauses and takes a violent double-take. Granted Dazai would tease the chibi about his height, but has he shrunk to a microscopic creature? He is pretty sure Chuuya seemed the same at the dungeons last month.
It takes him a moment to process that it is a kid and not Chuuya. Well, he is allowed to make mistakes when the hair colour looks absolutely the same. Then the kid turns around and Dazai sucks in a sharp breath. Those eyes, he would never mistake those eyes. That brilliant blue is his chibi’s. Dazai feels a wild smile coming onto his face as a theory forms itself in his perpetually hyperactive mind.
A woman comes over and picks up the kid. She looks beautiful, if not a little taller than his dog and seems vaguely familiar. He racks his brain as he watches her get in a sleek black Port Mafia car with the kid. A rottweiler trots beside them into the car.
Dazai is absently aware of his nails bleeding his palm as he processes the scene he witnessed. A beautiful woman, a kid and a dog - how picture perfect does it look. His dear, dear partner must have been busy in the last four years. How mean of him. There is a considerable space around him as pedestrians avoid walking around the man with that look on his face. Needless to say, the rest of the week is a nightmare for everyone at the detective agency (except Ranpo-san who keeps laughing at Dazai randomly).