Chapter Two
Chuuya looked at the man, confused as to why he was on the hallway of Chuuya's flat. He positioned himself in the offensive, just in case he needed to defend himself. The man was tall, he wore a heavy coat and warm hat that covered his ears. The man smirked, his expression full of unnerving vibes. Chuuya jumped back and activated his power, fully intending to use it before the man said, "Crime and punishment!" Immediately, Chuuya fell to the floor in pain, gasping and trying to keep his cries in.
The stranger kept his ability active, he walked forward and kicked Chuuya's head, knocking it hard against the wall. He kicked Chuuya a few more times until his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. After a few seconds, the man leaned down and grasped Chuuya's face, stroking it lovingly, "My beautiful Chuuya, all mine now." His voice had a strange lilt to it, and it seemed the cameras in the hall would've shivered.
Dazai's P.O.V.
Dazai walked through the entrance of the building and walked up to the counter. "Dazai Osamu." The woman behind the counter looked up sharply and gave Dazai a once over. Satisfied, she picked up her cell phone and dialed a number before repeating his name. Ending the phone call, she got up and motioned for Dazai to follow her. He was taken through a set of doors that required an ID card, then through another set of doors that required a fingerprint. Once they entered the elevator, she placed her finger on the finger pad and instructed Dazai to do the same. Once the light turned green, a set of numbers were lit up above the previous ones. Pressing on the 14th floor, the elevator began to move.
Dazai was trying to breathe, trying to focus his mind for the conversation with Mori. It was essential for Dazai to read every emotion and every hidden motive Mori had. Balling his fists in his coat pocket, he numbed his emotions, pushing Chuuya to the back of his mind as he allowed himself to slip on a mask of indifference.
The elevator dinged as it reached the designated floor. Dazai no longer felt fear or nervousness as he walked down the hall to Mori's office. The receptionist stayed in the elevator, her job complete. He placed his hand on the door and pushed open. There were three chairs in front of the window to the left that overlook the city. Straight ahead was a deep mahogany desk with Mori sitting in the chair behind it. Dazai smiled politely before walking the rest of the way to stand a few feet away from the desk.
"It's nice to see you again, Dazai." Mori's eyes were narrowed, but his smile remained plastered on his face along with the menacing energy that enveloped him.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Dazai's dry humor slithered its way out.
"Four years," If Dazai hadn't known any better, he would've believed the sad tone behind Mori's words. But Dazai knew better.
"So it seems," Dazai was tired of the pleasantries and continued. "How long have you known about the Rats?" Dazai's eyes narrowed slightly, not enough for Mori to notice in the darker lighting of the office.
Mori tilted his head to the side. "You know I have connections. How did you learn of them?" Mori's eyes gleamed savagely.
Dazai wanted to rip his tongue out. He wanted to take credit for the endless connections he established before he left for the agency. Dazai knew how Mori worked, however, and he wasn't falling for the bait. Instead, he keeps the mask in place, answering with little interest, "I have connections."
Mori leans forward with his chin in his hands and his elbows resting on the desk. "So you will rejoin the Port Mafia?" Dazai notices the abrupt shift and knew Mori understood Dazai. Mori understood Dazai more than he wanted to admit. But Dazai knew Mori just as well.
Without moving a muscle and no hesitation, he answered: "Under the condition previously discussed," Dazai's voice held little room for negotiation. He knew he could only push the boss of the Port Mafia so far. Dazai was needed, and knew the red eyed demon would do almost anything to have the damage of Double Black at his disposal, if only for a limited time. Long enough to protect the city from Rats. Dazai was making sure of it.
Mori's smile extended impossibly further to almost reach his ears. Dazai wasn't intimidated. Dazai wasn't stupid, either, to ignore the savage glint exploding in Mori's eyes. "You shouldn't openly protect the ones you care for. It'll be the end of you." Mori's tone was tinged with warning, and Dazai's composure almost slipped.
Mori knew everything. He always had.
At that precise moment, a knock sounded on the door. Dazai didn't dare look away from those red eyes, but the other pair didn't seem to care about whether their conversation was over; it was now.
"Dazai, could you grab the door?" It wasn't a suggestion. Dazai turned on his heel and opened the door. Akutagawa Gin was the last person he expected to see at this hour. Then again, he doubted Gin wanted to see Dazai.
Plastering a smile on his face, he stepped aside and Gin walked through – eyes slightly narrowed. Turning her attention from Dazai, she was in front of Mori's desk within milliseconds. "Chuuya is gone."
Dazai's blood ran cold. It took every ounce of his self-control to maintain his mask in front of Mori. Mori's smile was wiped from his face as his eyes spoke volumes.
"Report." His voice was steely and cut through the room like a double-edged sword.
"We were supposed to meet in the practice room two hours ago for Kyouka's practice, and he hasn't shown up. There are signs of blood on the wall outside of his bedroom door."
"Have you checked the security cameras?" Mori's eyes flashed back to Dazai and he felt his bandages restricting his breathing. Keep your mask in place.
"There was a man who attacked the apartment with a group of men. They seemed Giftless, however, it appears the leader is Gifted. There is footage of his attack with Nakahara. He wasn't able to use "For the Tainted Sorrow" and was beat without the attacker having to lay a finger on him." Gin's voice was monotone, but the words were resonating and echoing throughout the room.
Dazai stepped forward. "Do you have a clear picture of his face?"
Gin pulled a picture out of her coat before handing it to him.
Dazai's mind broke. His mask broke, and now favored an emotionless mask. A rat this man was, indeed. Walking to the desk, he laid the picture on top of the mountains of paper. "His name is Fyodor. He has the ability to numb any gift, as well as inflict pain without the need to touch them." He paused a moment to let the new information sink in to those in the room. "He believes all Gifted are a threat and should be eliminated." He took his eyes off the picture to look into the eyes of Mori.
The red fire glimmered as he chose his next words carefully. "How do you know of this man?"
In a reserved, nonchalant voice, Dazai responded, "I have connections."
Mori's eyes sparkled, and his grin returned. "Everyone meet in the war room." And with that, Dazai and Gin left the office.
Chuuya's P.O.V.
He heard noise before anything else. Shuffles of feet, scraping of metal, and what sounded like matches being lit.
He refused to open his eyes. He knew better. He smelled bleach and rust. There was another smell, but he couldn't place it. Reaching for his power, he could feel it pulsate and he sighed inwardly. Okay, okay. He had never been so relieved to feel his inner demon. Relaxing his body, he heard the metal move again. Belatedly he felt the handcuffs on his wrists. Shit. Breathe Chuuya.
Feet shuffled over to the bed and he smelled the unknown scent again. Keeping his breathing the same, he continued to keep his eyes closed. Reaching for his power, he could feel it continue to pulsate, writhing around in wanting. This organization was stupid to think handcuffs would hold Chuuya. Or…
The feet shuffled away and he could hear more shuffling before metal hit metal in a small clink. He knew that sound. He fucking knew that sound. Trying to control his breathing, he could feel his power rise with the strength Chuuya's fear presented. The feet were shuffling back towards the bed and Chuuya reacted. Opening his eyes, he pulled his arms and the handcuffs shredded. With the restraints gone, he used his power to leap onto a beam across the ceiling. Now that he was away from the needle, he could take his surroundings in. The room was made of wood. The man sharing the same space, went to pull out his phone and Chuuya threw the gravity off, flinging it across the room where it shattered. Shit, I could've used that for intel. No matter now. Keeping his attention on Chuuya, the man laughed. Blue eyes narrowed from the ceiling and he quickly glanced around to see if there were other devices laying around that needed to be broken.
"You won't find anything." The voice was deep, and resonated around the room like nothing else could. He held himself with the confidence of a powerful man, but Chuuya couldn't sense anything in way of having a gift.
Chuuya tsked. "And why would I believe you?"
The man's green eyes finally settled on Chuuya. The black hair surrounding his face made his eyes eerily bright. "I'm the doctor here." He stated it as if it were the answer to the universe. Blue eyes narrowed.
"Where am I?"
"In a hospital," The man's mouth curved up into a vicious smile and Chuuya knew better.
"The hospital in your mind, asshole."
Green eyes eyed him curiously. "The most accurate description any of my patients have provided." If Chuuya didn't know any better, he would've thought there was an underlying tone of respect.
"Who do you work for?"
"Myself." Chuuya was getting nowhere with this line of questioning. Changing tactics, he asked, "Why am I here?"
"You are gifted," The last word was spat out of his mouth and it gave Chuuya his next clue: boss man hated the gifted. "And you must be eliminated." A savage gleam that rivaled Dazai's crossed over the man's face. He turned and began walking over to the desk. Immediately, Chuuya picked up the desk with his gravity and threw it towards the only door in the room. Sadly, the desk didn't break down the door, but Chuuya could do that himself when he decided to escape. Answers first.
The "doctor" merely laughed at the show of strength. Looking down at the floor, Chuuya noticed the abundance of medicine bottles, needles, alcohol, plastic bags, and papers. He saw the man move towards the desk and Chuuya trips the gravity of a piece of broken wood before maneuvering it behind the man's head. As the doctor leaned down, he picks up a piece of paper and glances at it before walking back towards Chuuya. Leaping into a fighting stance on the beam, he has his gravity snatch the paper before bringing it up to his eyes. Within the next moment, the doctor has his hand in his coat and Chuuya wastes no time in plunging the wood into the back of the man's head.
"Dammit. Jackass." Chuuya floats slowly to the floor before moving the man to see what he was reaching for inside his jacket. "Shit!" Chuuya has just enough time to register the red button on the small device and small speaker as well before people were rushing inside. Jumping back to the ceiling for a momentary reprieve, he thought out his plan. Lifting the bed with his gravity, he tossed it towards the door and jumped behind it, using the cover and momentary shock to escape. He landed in the hall and jumped to the ceiling, hiding in one of the darker corners.
A few stragglers noticed Chuuya and he threw the remainder of the desk at them. Looking around, he noticed a staircase, a few other doors, a window at the ends of the hallways, and at least ten floors between himself and the ground. He couldn't find anything to break the window with, so he set down the staircase.
A laugh from behind him was all the warning he had before pain overtook his body and his legs fell from under him, forcing his body to crash down the steps until there was a flat platform. Red curls covered his face as he tried to take in breaths.
"Stupid. Always disobeying orders. Remind me why I left the beauty with him." The voice sounded from the top of the stairs and Chuuya could barely focus on the words. The pain was excruciating.
He heard footsteps and saw red boots before his hair was pushed aside to reveal a face framed by long black hair. Deep purple eyes blazed as the man leaned in close. "I didn't want it to be like this. I am very sorry."
Chuuya focused all of his energy to lift his head. He narrowed his eyes menacingly and said through gritted teeth, "You could make it up by sending me on my way with a box of Petrus wine. Any year would do fine."
Purple eyes narrowed and a smile curved maliciously across his face. "I can send a box of wine to your room, however," he leans impossibly closer to Chuuya, whispering into his ear, "I have plans for you, lovely."
His hand lightly brushes against Chuuya's knee and immense pain shatters Chuuya's focus. Screams echo throughout the building through gritted teeth. It wasn't until the man straightened back up that Chuuya could breathe again. Pushing up on his elbows, Chuuya spits at his feet. He reaches inwardly, in search of what was blocked off from him. Panic ebbed its way through his bones and he could feel a hand on the collar of his shirt before he was picked up until he was face-to-face with the man. "I am not your lovely." Chuuya spat the word, red curls moving forward as he talked.
Red lips curved upward and he reached his hand to the back of Chuuya's neck. The fire in Chuuya's eyes was burned as fire spread down his neck, through his spine, and ebbed its way through his limbs to circle back around at his fingers and toes. The fire was never ending – almost like lava coursing just underneath his skin. Screams tore through Chuuya's mouth.
"You know very little, my dove." Those words were what threw him down a black abyss.
Dazai's P.O.V.
Walking through the door of his apartment, Dazai slammed the door shut, his body falling to the floor. "Damned Chuuya!" Tears streamed down his face as the panic finally set in. He had been in the war room for the past eight hours. After finding out where Fyodor resided, plans were made, and backups were discussed. Only the higher ups were allowed to go, consisting of Gin, Ryuunosuke, Hirotsu, Dazai, Tachihara, Black Lizard, Kaji, and Kouyou. After much negotiation on Dazai's part, Mori also asked Odasaku, who immediately agreed under the obvious condition that he wouldn't kill anyone.
On the other hand, no one questioned Dazai's return. On the other hand, no one would dare questions Mori's actions.
He had failed Chuuya, yet again. He left the agency in the hopes he could outrun his need for violence, the way his mind and body craved it.
A mere two months ago, he wasn't able to accept his need for violence, and he had failed someone else.
He had to fix this.
He was going to fix this.
Wiping the tears off angrily, he stood up and poured himself a glass of scotch. Downing it in one swallow, he poured another and set it on the counter.
Dazai was walking through the city streets, his coat billowing in the wind, the bandages a familiar weight. The sky had few clouds and the sun reflected off the body of water to his right. He couldn't go back to the agency. Couldn't see the faces of everyone as he walked through the office. Sitting down on a nearby bench, he watched the water. Watched how the colors scattered everywhere with every gust of wind and rotation of water beneath the surface. Watched the people conversing on the port.
He heard footsteps sound behind him and knew who it was.
"It's been a while." Dazai's voice was stiff and emotionless. It didn't sound like him, but it matched the indifferent mask he had plastered over his entire body.
Black boots stopped next to his and a black trench coat flowed in front of his view. Dazai didn't need to look over to see the red eyes. "Yes, yes it has." The voice was hushed and reserved. Professionally sympathetic. Dazai could've laughed.
Mori leaned against the railing. "The mafia will always welcome you."
Dazai laughed then. Maybe it was the entirety of the situation finally sinking in, or maybe he was a madman for laughing in the face of The Port Mafia. Maybe it was both. Dazai couldn't bring himself to care.
Mori brushed it off, red eyes only slightly narrowing. He lent his hand out and with a business card sticking out between his fingers. "You have a week."
And with that, the boss of the Port Mafia turned around.
"How fulfilling is it?" The question left Dazai's mouth without permission.
"Depends on how far you're willing to go." And with that, the Port Mafia left him.
Dazai sat at the bench for another few moments. His eyes looked over the business card, a simple address and phone number. Placing the card in his pocket, he left the bench and began walking back towards the agency.
He was not going to let Chuuya suffer the same fate Kunikida did.
