Summary: Chuuya has always been caged. He always had to do the logical thing-joining the Port Mafia, obeying Kouyou and Mori, and putting up with Dazai. It was time for Chuuya to search for the elusive key.
"Even though it feels like I might be trapped, there is no room for sentiments
I'll push myself to the limit and dye everything jet-black..."
—Darkness My Sorrow, Chuuya's Character Song
Age fifteen, Mori declared Chuuya and Dazai partners in the hunt for Arahabaki. The threat of Mori hurting the Sheep members, Chuuya's comrades was still present and loomed over him as he worked.
Chuuya and Dazai succeeded in their job, of course. They found Arthur Rimbaud, the man who had claimed to see Arahabaki and also the person who had actually released Arahabaki. Dazai had figured out Rimbaud was lying by the mention of the sea even when the sea couldn't be seen from the spot he was. Chuuya knew Rimbaud was lying, because he, himself, was Arahabaki. Rimbaud fought the two, died, and Chuuya took the man's hat.
But, Chuuya could not go back. Dazai had declared Chuuya a traitor to the Sheep, had manipulated some of its members into thinking that, even though that wasn't true. With no other place to go to, Chuuya joined the Port Mafia.
Chuuya was trained by Kouyou, was forced to fought alongside Dazai, and was given orders by Mori. Kouyou was nice, overall. On the other hand, Dazai was an a*s. Mori was okay, when he wasn't trying to manipulate him. Mori's sentient ability, Elise, was...kinda adorable, and liked him.
But, the more time Chuuya spent in the Port Mafia, the more he didn't want to be there. The feeling of being forced to stay in the Port Mafia, being caged, festered in him, even as an Executive.
He respected and appreciated his men. Chuuya treated his subordinates well, and that made them loyal to him. He respected his coworkers, particularly Kouyou, Hirotsu, and Mori. He noticed the existence of a weird sort of friendship between him and Dazai.
But, however, he felt a pull. He felt something drawing him away. Something that recoiled at the thought of being restrained. He felt the pull every time he murmured his assent, was dismissed, and bowed. His lips would tighten, his eyes would narrow, and he would entertain the thought of disobedience for a brief moment. Then his features would smooth out, all changes to his amicable expression gone, as he stood up and turned out. A flicker of something-whether it was annoyance or discontent he couldn't tell-would pass over his face as he turned his back to Mori and headed towards the wooden double doors.
There was a drive inside Chuuya to step outside the bounds of the organization he hadn't fully voluntarily joined. A pull to stop obeying orders, to answer to no one but himself.
With these thoughts in mind, he put together a roughshod long term plan. Chuuya had time on his side. He was still rather young. There was no reason to rush.
Chuuya started on the first step when he was seventeen. He brushed up on his forgery and disguise skills. Instead of focusing on counterfeit money, he did counterfeit identification, passports, driver's licenses, and the like. He took acting classes and started diversifying his wardrobe in order to have general styles of clothes for different identities.
There was a very simple reason he started with these two. Without those two important aspects, he would never get anywhere. Chuuya was famous in the underworld, he was a Port Mafia Executive. He had bright red hair and was...below average height. Fortunately, unlike most men, it wasn't too difficult for him to pass as a woman if he wanted to. And, with his small stature, he didn't look very threatening or note worthy as a man either, with the exception of his hair.
Chuuya went on a mission, one in Europe. Mori chose him for multiple reasons-Chuuya knew several languages very well, he trusted his Executive, and Chuuya was well equipped to deal with really any problem as a veritable one man army.
He got back to Yokohama on the night Odasaku died and Mimic was destroyed. He was barely awake, suffering from jet lag, when he heard the news.
Dazai left. He left the Port Mafia.
Chuuya immediately cursed. His grip tightened on his phone. He left his half unpacked suitcase on his bed and headed to his apartment's living room. Chuuya opened his wine cabinet, briefly searched for the most expensive one, and pulled out a Petrus 1889.
He popped the cork with For the Tainted Sorrow and curled up in a comfortable red arm chair. Chuuya slowly relaxed as he made his way way through the bottle, thinking and sorting out his turbulent feelings.
Chuuya was stuck between two emotions. Betrayal, because Dazai had never told him before he abruptly left. And happy, that his rival left this dump plus that his biggest obstacle was gone. Dazai might have noticed what Chuuya was going to do. They hadn't been partners for three years and not learned about each other.
The various fake identities were the next step. It was a slightly dangerous move. But in the criminal underworld, most people had one or two fake identities, so it wouldn't look too suspicious of he was found out. Chuuya diverted some of the money from his bank accounts to multiple new accounts unconnected to the Port Mafia. Creating passports, driver's licenses, and birth certificates with the correct information was easy when one knew the people with the correct materials.
The safe houses were after that. They were more dangerous to put together. Chuuya used his other accounts and bought small broken down apartments in the midddle of the Cone, Yokohama's slums. He would disguise himself and go fix up the places. A small stash of money and canned food were stored carefully inside each house.
Keeping all of this from Mori and Kouyou wasn't too difficult. Both had their own schedules separate from Chuuya. Mori was the person more likely to notice, but he was rather busy being the Boss.
Four years after he left, that b*****d Dazai showed up again. He had been 'captured'. Yeah, right, Chuuya scorned, this was Dazai. If Dazai didn't have a plan and conniving reason as to why he got caught, Chuuya would eat his hat.
Chuuya was swiftly proven correct in his predictions.
During their various run ins, Chuuya almost asked how Dazai disappeared several times. But he always swallowed the question that had been on the tip of his tongue. It was sour as it slid down his throat. He felt the heavy weight as it settled in his stomach.
Dazai wasn't going to help him even if Chuuya asked for help. Even if Dazai was also a traitor, a successful one.
Chuuya trusted Dazai with his life in life-or-death situations, but not with his plans of escape.
He was just going to have to make his own key. His own way out. Chuuya had most of what he needed already.
Chuuya disappeared on August 4th. He had gone on one of his nightly drives. He lt a cigarette, stamped it out when too much of the stick turned black, and vanished. His motorcycle and black trenchcoat were the only things left behind.
He had considered leaving his hat behind. It was what Mori had given to him to symbolize Chuuya joining the Port Mafia. But the old black fedora was a part of him. It had stayed atop his head for years. It was the only thing remaining of Rimbaud, the closest thing he had to a father.
Chuuya decided he couldn't keep the hat exactly as it was then. The dark brown ribbon had been fraying anyways.
He cut his hair to the style it was during his teenage years and temporarily dyed it to black. He switched his fashion style from business to casual. Chuuya dressed in blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and black converse. Along with cheap white sunglasses and a black fedora with a tan ribbon.
He hung out in the slums for a few days, smack in the middle of the large crater he had created during his rampage post breakout.
XXX
Dazai heard about Chuuya's dissapearance and scoffed at the assumption of some that 'the Chibi was dead.' He stubbornly mused, 'I don't believe it until I see the body. Shorty is the most stubborn person I've ever met. He wants to live more than I want to die.'
Later that evening, a package sat outside Dazai's apartment. He stared at the innocent small brown box. Dazai picked it up and immediately went into the yard. Anything sent to him by an anonymous person was very likely to contain something like slow acting poisonous gas or a venomous animal.
Dazai carefully opened the box. The only thing inside was a blue sticky note. In pen, a brief message had been written in curly black letters, 'See you around Mackerel-Slug.'
He smirked triumphantly, and denied the existence of the 'small' bit of relief he felt. "Called it."
XXX
No one could find Chuuya.
Mori kept his missing Executive's trench coat locked in a cabinet in his office.
Kouyou and Mori were reluctant to believe that Chuuya, the embodiment of the phrase 'one man army' was dead. But, as hours stretched into days with no sighting of Chuuya and no ransom note delivered, they had no choice but accept the possibility and move on.
XXX
The door to the Armed Detective Agency office opened. A black haired man dressed in a white doctor's coat entered.
The room went silent. Kyouka trembled as she painstakingly inched to hide behind Atsushi. Kunikida clenched his pen and reached for his Ideal book. Ranpo continued to lazily lick his lollipop, but he kept a wary eye on their visitor. The clerks and Tanizaki froze at the sight of him.
"So, Mori-san, come to see if we can find your missing dog?" Dazai drawled as he stood up. He took a few steps to stand in front of his former boss, to stand between Mori and his coworkers.
The two men faced off. They both had unnaturally cheery smiles on their faces.
"I dropped by to see you, Dazai-kun," Mori happily claimed, a smile still on his face. His voice dropped slightly as he continued, "If you do have any insights as to why Chuuya disappeared, they would be much appreciated." Mori's tone was serious yet somehow he still managed to sound light and casual, as if he were talking about a mildly irritating problem that was rather small all things considered.
Dazai chuckled. It was a light and airy sound, that sounded just as fake as it was. "Well, there's two explanations for the disappearance of your Executive." He paused as he heard the gasps and felt the stares of his coworkers. "Someone very powerful is responsible. They kidnapped or attempted to kill him." His smile turned wry, "But, this is Chuuya. I don't doubt that he would have taken care of his attackers and popped up by now. So, that leaves option number two. He left of his own free will." He shrugged. "Of course, there's the possibility I'm wrong, there might be someone involved with mind control or some sleep inducing ability. But I doubt it. Which brings up a very interesting thought," Dazai grinned, "If it was of his own free will that he left? In the same way you couldn't do anything to me, you can't do anything to him. Arguably even more so. For who could you send? Chuuya was your strongest asset." He smirked. A flicker of mischief danced in his eyes. "H**l, who could you pay to collect his head? He's one of the strongest ability users in the world.
Mori's smile hadn't changed through Dazai's explanation. "Well, I don't see any reason to intrude any longer." He stood and gave a closed eyed smile. "Have a good day, Dazai-kun. Next time you see Chuuya, tell him Kouyou-san and I said hello."
Dazai smirked slightly, then quickly went back to cheerfully grinning. That was a blatant tip off that Mori had figured out that Chuuya had contacted Dazai. "I'll be sure to do that."
XXX
Now that the search for him had died off, Chuuya bought a motorcycle and drove out of the bounds of Yokohama City. For the first time since was fifteen and part of the Sheep gang, he was free to do as he pleased.
He would return to Yokohama someday of course. It's the closest he had to a home. But a vacation was necessary.
H**l, Chuuya knew what a crazy place Yokohama was. He would would likely be back for a visit in a year or two, whenever the next group of foreign ability users attacked.
But, for this time, he would follow his own heading.
XXX
Chuuya returned without fanfare. Yeah, that was a lie. He showed up with a loud bang. The asphalt split a large web of cracks beneath his feet. Around him, trees and buildings shuddered.
He tossed an annoyed look at Dazai.
"Really, you called me to deal with this punk?" Chuuya smirked.
"Sorry, sorry, we're short handed," Dazai chirped with mock politeness. "Atsushi and Akutagawa are taking care of the guy's minions."
"Ignoring people is rather rude," the enemy pointed out with irritation.
Chuuya's smirk turned into a dark crooked grin. "Isn't interrupting people when they're talking rude?" He countered.
XXX
Once the battle was over, Chuuya was ready to head out again. But before he did, Dazai started speaking.
"Where you are going?" Dazai asked. He tilted his head in curiosity and planted his hands in his trenchoat pockets.
"Away," Chuuya curtly replied.
"Oh? For how long?" Dazai chirped.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes. "I don't know."
Dazai paused for a few brief moments, as he carefully considered his words. He sighed, half-exasperated and half-sullen. "Have you considered joining the Armed Detective Agency?" He bluntly asked.
Chuuya shifted his weight uneasily. He lightly kicked a pebble next to his foot and took a childlike pleasure in seeing it fly several inches away. "Yeah, well, it's not like I could even if I wanted to."
"What? Of course you could," Dazai countered. He grinned.
"Did you hear the 'even if I wanted to?' I left to be free, not get stuck again," Chuuya snarked.
"Without a tie, an anchor of some sort, you drift around without no purpose. At the Agency, you can help people." Dazai smirked, "Also it's a regular sort of employment. You don't have to fake your death to leave, you just have to say you quit."
Chuuya looked away.
Dazai shrugged, sensing the need to back off. "But, it's your choice."
The words sparked a sour feeling in Chuuya's stomach. He curled his lip up onto a sneer and glared at Dazai.
'Your choice,' how many times had Chuuya been told that? How many times had Dazai jokingly mockingly said that to him?
Dazai tilted his chin down, his eyes narrowed. "I mean it. It's your choice," he stated.
Chuuya's glare lessened and turned more thoughtful. He abruptly shook his head. "This is a waste of my time, bye you suicidal maniac."
XXX
Well, Chuuya didn't like feeling trapped. But he guessed he needed an anchor, otherwise he could be swept away in the treacherous waters of Yokohama.
He stepped inside the Armed Detective Agency's office, a sour expression on his face.
Dazai looked up from his desk and glanced at the door as he heard it open. A wide grin spread across his face. "Chuuya, you actually came," he happily chirped.
Chuuya scowled at his former partner. "So, how the h**l do I join?"
A/N
Inspired by: the lyrics of Chuuya's character song and 'What if Chuuya secretly hated being part of the Port Mafia?' idea.
-Silver