Chapter Text
To say the current atmosphere of ADA’s conference room is tense will be an understatement. It is reek with an overwhelming amount of murderous intent. The sole subject to them is smiling sweetly, the back of his hands propping his chin as he mulls over his choice.
Almost everyone in the room call it bullshit, he has his mind on one person from the very first start.
Mori is sitting on the end of the long table, facing Fukuzawa on the other end while the detectives sit on the right side and the executives on the left.
Two chairs closest to Mori on the right side is empty, making the closest to him Atsushi.
Mori smiles at the young adult, “I heard you’ve been getting along well with our dear Akutagawa?”
Atsushi averts his eyes from the Mafia boss, feeling uncomfortable. “We promised to fight each other when the time comes.” He answers tensely, somehow feeling angry that the man in question is not in the room with them. Though understandable as he is not an executive.
Mori chuckles lowly, he bemused, “That sounds familiar, no?” He turns toward his left side, towards Chuuya a seat away from him with Kouyou separating them.
And when his executive refuses to give him his desired action, choosing to stay silent, Mori then turns his head towards the opened window on the far end of the room. “No, Dazai-kun?”
The breeze blows the curtain softly, as well as the former mafia executive’s tan coat. His hair moves with the breeze as he stares pointedly at the wall on front of him. He’ leaning on the windowsill, ignoring quite literally everyone in the room, making a point that he did not came here on his own will.
Mori sighs as he is being ignored by the two.
“Enough with the empty talk, Mori sensei.” Fukuzawa’s stern voice vibrated in the room. His eyes as sharp as his words as he stares towards the mafia boss.
Mori huffs softly, “Okay then.” His words make the rest of them unknowingly straighten their back, dread starting to fill the room instead.
“I think you’ve already knew my answer, Fukuzawa-dono.” He then smiles towards Atsushi, “I hope you’ll treat Port Mafia as your own family, dear Atsushi-kun.”
If yosano is in the room with them, she might’ve taken out the sharpest scalpel in her position to stab it in his throat. However, she is not. But Dazai is, and he almost taken out his gun and empty the magazine, but a slight glance from the president stops him.
“Unfortunately, he’s not available. Our Atsushi still uses my ability to control his manifestation.” The president speaks straight, refuses to prolong the matter.
“Hm?” Mori tilts his head, “You still can’t control it? You are aware that our Akutagawa managed to control Rashomon at the age of fourteen, right? Under the guidance of Dazai-kun, of course.” He taunts the younger man, feeding on his uneasiness.
Atsushi swallows dry. He is… aware that the Dazai-san he knows is not the same Dazai that was in the Port Mafia. And… he is aware of the treatment Akutagawa received while under mentorship of Dazai-san. So, he chooses to ignore the clear provocation.
Kunikida who’s sitting beside Atsushi, grips his pen tight but not enough for it to break. However angry he is right now; the truce is still on the table.
However, Ranpo, who is sitting quietly while enjoying his lollipop beside Kunikida and the president, snorts without a word, belittling the man for pulling such dirty tricks.
“Mori sensei.” Fukuzawa stresses his words, “Atsushi is not available.”
“How unfortunate.” Mori says solemnly, leaning back on his chair but everyone can hear the slither of a snake behind his every words. “Then, Fukuzawa-dono, I guess that leave one person, no?”
Every head whirl towards Dazai, disagreement at the tip of their tongue while Dazai is looking downright murderous as he smiles towards his former boss.
“I personally think it will do great for the city if Sōkoku is back together, do you agree, Dazai?”
Dazai grins wide, his eyes blank. “Hm? Are you not scared that I’ll sneak on you and slit your throat in your sleep, Mori-sensei?”
Mori laughs at the blatant threat, “My, Dazai-kun. Are detectives allowed to speak that way? As I thought, the darkness suits you better.” He smiles menacingly.
Kunikida’s pen snaps in two.
The doctor relishes in the wrath he has brough into the room. “Do you have any objection on this, Fukuzawa-dono?”
The president stays calm, but one can see his veins bulging if only they look closer.
“Alas, a promise is a promise, a deal is a deal.” Mori then smiles solemnly towards Chuuya, who had been sitting still like a statue from the start. “Our dear Chuuya-kun had worked hard after all. I still can feel the emptiness in my wallet, being the one to bear the cost for his beloved helicopter’s damages and of course, gluing the fangs myself. Felt like Halloween at the time.” He laughs, amused at the memories. Mori suddenly stops, looking at Dazai with a glint in his eyes.
“Oh, that reminds me of one thing. Dazai-kun, I’m sure you would love working together again with Chuuya-kun, no?” His eyes flashes with malice, “Afterall, both of you still have many histories.”
Dazai stands straight, looking the man with unhidden blood thirst. His current image mirrors his old one, the only difference is his eyes now both visible. Before he could get a word out, Chuuya beats him to it.
“No.”
Their heads snap towards the voice, Port Mafia’s executive Nakahara Chuuya.
“No?” Mori asks his man kindly, a hint of satisfaction in his tone as he finally can get a reaction out of the man. So that he could make a weapon out of the man.
At least, that’s what he thought.
Chuuya sighs, leaning back into his chair while folding his arms around himself. “We don’t have any histories anymore.”
“Oh?”
“It’s…bygone days. I’m not the kind of person to care about the past. Not anymore.” The hat on his head, the bike in his garage, the polaroid in his wallet, the many visits to Rimbaud’s grave, the leather around his neck, beg to differ but Chuuya ignores it. “If you want us to work together, we’re unbeatable, yes, but it can no longer be like it used to be.”
Mori sighs. “Pray tell, why not, Chuuya-kun. I swear to God if it’s another one of your lovers’ silly fi–”
“Why not?” Dazai bulldozes over Mori’s words, sounding oddly offended, eyes zero on Chuuya who has been refusing to make any contact with him. Instead, choosing to look at the table.
Chuuya resist the sigh he’s about to exhale, instead chooses to look over the boss. “I’m not objecting your choice, boss. But I do have to remind you so that you do not hold that kind of expectation on us. We’re no longer fifteen and immature, sixteen and dumb, seventeen and… careless,” He pauses, thinking his next words. “…Eighteen and regretful.”
Mori tilts his head, confused. “That’s the better, no?”
The executive shakes his head, “We’re an adult now. Our dynamic is different now that we’re older and wiser. I can no longer risk myself, heading blindly towards the enemy if Dazai decides to choose that moment to kill himself.” He’s hesitant for a while before continuing, “And regarding corruption, I don’t think I can trust him anymore if we drag him back into the Port Mafia. Killing me would be the best thing to do to sabotage the organization, the fastest too.”
Dazai is beyond offended as he slams both of his hands on the table, standing in between the president and Ranpo. “I beg your pardon?”
The blatant display of emotion pulls a smile out of the mafia boss. He quickly hides it. “Can’t say I expected that, Chuuya-kun. I was sure you both still have something going on. Regardless of the eighteen… and regretful.”
Kouyou pulls out her fan, showing her non approval of the boss’ plan to riles them both. She tries to signals the young executive to stop but to no avail.
Chuuya scoffs, “Four years of radio silence could change everything.” He finally turns his head to the right, facing a seething Dazai head on. “Especially, what could have happened in the four years, am I right?”
Dazai almost laughs at the sudden animosity directed towards him. He would have laugh if he was not so shocked as his meticulous calculation, minute to minute, second to second, for the meeting just went straight to the drain because of Chuuya,
“Wanna elaborate, Chibi? Your slugginess is contagious, it dulls my mind.” He spits the words instead.
“Of course, you’ll blame it on me. Then, will you blame all of your affairs in the four years on me too?”
“What?”
Chuuya scoffs unbelievably, “Playing dumb now, are we?” He then nods, as if playing along with him. “Then, to ‘jog’ your memories, should I mention my fucking car that you exploded? Or the money you stole from me while you’re hiding? To buy Sake, I assume. That’s the cheapest option since the rest is spent on women. Or should I mention the fact that those women… are practically my clones?”
Dazai blinks, dumbfounded. So is the rest of the occupants of the room, including the Port Mafia’s boss and his other executive.
“What? Did you think I wouldn’t have known? Come on, Dazai, Port Mafia rules the dark side of the Yokohama. You think I couldn’t see you, spot you on one of our many cameras? Hear your name from one of our many informants? Don’t tell me the demon prodigy is that careless.”
The title seems to snap Dazai out of his stupor. He sharpens his eyes towards Chuuya, feeling betrayed. “What the fuck are you trying to say?”
Chuuya smiles tastelessly, “The only reason we didn’t drag you back is boss’ order.”
It stings, the way that Chuuya discredited his escape but it’s partially true. Dazai smiles in a derange way, like a predator on his prey. “Well, I’m not the only one that finds comfort on someone else’s bed, no?”
Chuuya laughs hollowly, not even bothered to deny the words. “At least I have the decency to not air it out to the whole organization. To the organization I betrayed.” He sarcastically replies. “Inviting people to join you on a double suicide every day of the week, you’re the lower grunts’ favorite topic over lunch for quite some time. While me, none of them even dare to whisper my name, let alone my affair.”
Atsushi finds himself reddening at the topic they’re breaching. He’s glad Kyouka and Kenji is not present at the moment.
“Oh. So, you admit it was an affair?”
“You know what I meant.”
“I know well what you meant.” It is Dazai’s turn to laugh hollowly. “Poor dog. Your owner left you but you still think there’s something left for you, between us? pathetic.” He practically spits out the word to Chuuya’s face. He keeps his face stoic as he continues to drills knife into Chuuya’s wound. “Our master-pet relationship is already over when I deigned you useless.”
Kouyou glares at her former junior, feeling restless in her seat. However, Chuuya is laughing as of the words amused him.
“Master-pet? Pfft, sure, sure, whatever you say, Dazai. Whatever you say to run away from being committed, sure, sure.”
The former mafia turns sour, fist clenching on the table.
“Pathetic, huh?” Chuuya mulls over the word, his expression melancholic. “I admit I used to act so pitiful. Thinking I could find you in the bottom of a wine bottle. So, I drink and drink and drink, bottle after bottle. To the point they had to pump it out of me.”
His clenched fists grow lax at the implication, Dazai whirls his head up to look at his partner with wide eyes.
Chuuya’s already smiling at him.
“Can’t imagine me being suicidal, huh?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Guess I rubbed it off you. But foolish me, to even have a single thought that you’ll come…running to me. And say the words that I might or might not want to hear.”
At this point, Kouyou places her hand on Chuuya’s shoulder, calming him down lest he’ll say things he might regret. “Lad, I think that’s enough.”
Chuuya gingerly pulls her hand into his, patting them softly as he turns back towards Dazai. “Foolish me again, since I should’ve known better. The incident was only known by ane-san, few of her girls and the boss. There’s no way of you knowing. But let’s get back to your words. It’s over, huh. Was it over, dazai, was it really over?”
Dazai struggles to find the answer after being thrown a piece of Chuuya that he doesn’t know.
“After hundreds of blind dates, hundreds of women you invited on a double suicide. After you bedded all of the women, any kind, as long they have the smallest resemblance of me. Especially, in their eyes. After seeing me in them, kissing their mouth, wishing it was mine before I called you a fucking traitor. Was it really over then, Dazai?” Chuuya leans forward as he presses the question. “Even as you crawl in their bed, searching for something better than me?” He spits put every word as if he’s disgusted.
Dazai scoffs in disbelieve, “Airing my dirty laundry in front of my colleagues is a cheap move, Chuuya.”
Chuuya ignores his words. “Let me ask you again. Was it over when she laid down on your couch? Or,” he pauses before continuing, “Was it over when another man unbuttoned my shirt?” The executive says slowly, clearly not proud of the moment.
Dazai shares the thought as he calls his partner’s name, warning him. “Chuuya.”
Chuuya smiles, “After spending multiple nights listening to my voicemail over and over for a good night sleep, was it over then?” And he smiles drop as he whispers the question again. “Or is it over now?”
Silence blankets the room. Each pondering pieces that was revealed by the two major people.
Chuuya then sighs heavily as he concludes, “So, don’t think that we could pretend like those years never happened, Dazai. Like they wouldn’t affect our connection that has been barely hanging on the thread.” He leans back on his seat, closing his eyes. “I’ve said my piece.”
Mori looks at his executive and his former executive, shifting his eyes a few times before sighing. He drawls out the next words, “Well, since Chuuya-kun feels…very strongly, then I shall consider his opinion. We will be back, Fukuzawa-dono, now if you’ll excuse us.” He gets on his feet, smiling while dragging his eyes to each of the ADA’s members. The mafia boss chuckles softly at his former prodigy’s face expression before leaving the room followed by his people.
Dazai stares at Chuuya’s every movement as he steps put, he did not look back.
Before the Mafia people could even leave the office, Ranpo’s loud laughter can be heard, echoing in the hallway.
The moon shines her light into the room at the top of the skyscraper, providing enough light in the dark space.
“I must say, making a drama out of yourself, stalled the meeting, giving me more time to think while slyly saving your boyfriend was not, what I expected from you, Chuuya-kun.” Mori stares down both of his executives who’s bowing to him. “Can’t say if I’m proud or doubtful towards your loyalty.”
“My priority is first and foremost for the Port Mafia.” Chuuya replies.
Mori almost do something so uncouth as rolling his eyes, Elise must have sense it as she laughs at his face from her spot. “Rise now, both of you.”
Chuuya and Kouyou straighten their backs.
“Your boyfriend looked very distraught before we left, Chuuya-kun. He must have not expected your slyness.” Mori points out, still feeling amused by the youth’s love as he was when they were younger.
“There’s nothing between us.”
Kouyou pulls out her fan with a huffs and fans herself, “After all of those unholy confessions in front of everyone, you still choose to lie, lad?”
Chuuya corrects himself, “Not anymore.”
Mori sighs again. “Go home, Chuuya-kun. I’m sure as of now, someone’s already waiting for some answers in your place.”
The young executive hesitates for a while, “You’re cool with it?”
Elise shouts out, “Stupid Chuuya!” While Mori and Kouyou nods in agreement.
“Eh?”
“Just go, Chuuya-kun. But be careful or I might use your ‘partnership’ as a weapon instead.” The boss warns him with a glint in his eyes.
“And the detective agency?” Kouyou asks, though she already can tell the answer for it. As well as Chuuya.
Mori laughs lightheartedly but his eyes glint with red. “We won’t take any of them. But they’ll owe us a big favour.”