/AH-HAA!

Chapter 2!

Didn't think there was gonna be two chapters in the span of two days, huh? THINK AGAIN!

Okay, okay, I'll stop being obnoxious. I present to you the second chapter of Hold On (Please), and I hope you enjoy!

"And they say: 'Don't hurt,

look away.

Don't be afraid when you wanna turn back a million times.

And it might get colder; wait 'till it's over.

Darling you'll find your way tonight.'"

~Look Away by Thousand Foot Krutch

Edgar Allan Poe could honestly say, for the first time since he'd visited the Agency, that something was off with Kunikida.

Now, he could be wrong; he didn't really know the man, and had never spoken to him even with the whole Guild ordeal. Plus, the poet wasn't all that talkative, but there was one thing he was good at.

And that was being observant.

Even though Ranpo beat him on any and all occasions, Poe still prided himself in being able to tell when someone wasn't at their best. Kunikida hid it well, he'd admit, but no one can really cover up the slight paleness to their skin nor the unusual flush to their cheeks. Karl seemed to notice too, as he gently pawed the ex-Guild member's head with concern.

"I know, Karl. I-I'll go ask Kunikida-san if something's wrong…" Poe wasn't the most assertive, nor did he view himself as the most likeable guy; still, he would try to help out in some way. I owe it to Ranpo-kun and, by extension, the Agency for letting me stay here...I need to pay them back somehow!

"You'll go ask Kunikida-kun what?"

Ranpo's voice interrupted Poe's thoughts, making him jump and almost fall out of his chair. He honestly thought the detective was asleep, so hearing him speak so close to his ear made him react violently. "R-Ranpo-kun! You can't scare me like that...I-It'll kill me one day!"

"Nevermind that. What's this about Kunikida-kun?" Ranpo ignored his rival's near heart attack, sticking a lollipop in his own mouth before continuing. "It's unnatural to see you go out of your way to talk to someone you haven't before."

"O-Oh, um…" What should he say? Was Kunikida the type of man to not care if people were talking about him, or would he throw somebody (he's seen him do it to Dazai, he knows Kunikida can be scary) at the nearest wall if even his name was mentioned without consent? Poe struggled with indecision, having an internal conflict with himself, as Ranpo stared at his companion with expectancy.

"Well?" Ranpo's flippant, albeit impatient tone made him flinch. With a sigh and a silent apology to Kunikida, Poe made his decision.

"It's just that...Kunikida-san seems a little stressed today - w-well, more than usual! He also doesn't look too good…" Poe trailed off as the best detective he had ever seen leaned back, staring straight at Kunikida's diligently working form. After a couple of seconds of silence, Ranpo gave what seemed like an affirmative hum before turning back to Poe.

"I'm surprised you pay attention to that, Poe-kun." That response made the poet fidget in his seat. How was he supposed to take that? As a compliment, or as an insult? It's hard to tell what Ranpo was thinking sometimes. Karl lightly tapped his forehead in an attempt to calm his nerves, and Poe scratched the back of the raccoon's ear gratefully.

"W-Well, I've always been like that...I-I think!" Goodness, he was as bad as Alcott when it came to his nerves. Ranpo hummed again, spinning lazily around in his chair.

"Did you get all that...Dazai?"

Poe would never admit that he squeaked (he did) when the bandaged man stepped out into their line of sight. The poet didn't even hear him approach, much less feel his presence when he and Ranpo conversed. It made him think briefly back to the time Ranpo told him that Dazai was ex-Mafia; if he didn't believe it before, he certainly believed it now.

"Yes, I did. Thank you, Poe-kun." Dazai gave the ex-Guild member a smile, but it seemed devoid of humor. It might have been a trick of the light, but Poe could've sworn that concern shone in Dazai's eyes. The man himself sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Kunikida always pushes himself, never thinking of a break. It was only a matter of time, I suppose."

It was at that moment Poe realized that Dazai blamed himself for not noticing his partner's condition sooner. It wasn't easy to spot it; Dazai's brows furrowed ever so slightly, the shade of his eyes gradually darkened, and his lips briefly twitched downwards. With what confidence he could muster, the poet leaned forward with his arms on Ranpo's desk. "U-Um! It's not your fault that you didn't see it before it got this bad! Kunikida-san seems like the type of person to keep it to himself…"

Poe trailed off as Dazai and Ranpo gave him incredulous stares. A solid minute of just staring with no response from either of them had the poet start to fidget again, Karl crawling off of his head to rest in his lap. Whatever assessment they were making of him concluded with a small smile from Dazai and a huff from Ranpo, the former opening his mouth to speak.

Oh, god; Poe could only imagine all of the negative words that were going to come from the bandaged man (such as What do you know about the Agency or even Why are you even here, again? or maybe, the worst phrase of all: No one needs you here, you know. Ranpo does a much better job than...whatever it is you can do. That last one stung the most, and Poe can't tell if it's because of it concerning his rival or some deeper emotion that's on the fringe of consciousness) and flinched (rather violently, he might add with a touch of shame later on).

"Thank you, Poe-kun, but Kunikida-kun is my partner. It's my job to get him to loosen up once in a while."

That response was...different. Certainly not what he thought the other was going to say. Poe forced his tense frame to relax, sending a hesitant and shaky smile. "Still...y-you could have someone else help you. M-Maybe…" What was he even trying to suggest? That he could help? He couldn't even help himself, his quest for revenge being all for naught. He was a nobody; a former enemy, a ghost, insignificant.

Yes, that has to be why they gave him those stares earlier; they thought he couldn't do much of anything, and they were right. He wasn't much of anything. With those thoughts the rest of his sentence died on his lips, preferring to look at the floor with his bangs covering his eyes. A tiny but rueful smile appeared on his face, waiting for the words they were surely saving for later so that it would hurt even more after building him up with acknowledgement and compliments -

"I would appreciate it if you could help me, Poe-kun." - but Dazai just kept the smile on his face, not seeming to regret asking for the poet's assistance. Poe's eyes widened as he sharply looked up, Ranpo also turning to stare at Dazai with raised eyebrows.

"I knew you were going to involve Poe-kun somehow, but I never imagined you directly asking for his assistance." That makes two of us, Ranpo-kun, Poe thought as he kept on staring at Dazai, mouth open unbeknownst to him.

"H-How could I even…?"

"You can. I know you can." Was all the ex-Mafia member said, stating it with such confidence that Poe had no choice but to bend to his wishes. Karl tapped on his chin to get him to close his mouth, and Poe blinked at the action before doing so.

"...Okay. I'll help." Poe's bangs no longer covered both of his eyes, as only his left was visible. His lips were set in a straight line, and his stormy amethyst orb shone in determination. "What do we do first?"

Dazai leaned in, voice but a whisper. "Here's how this'll work…"

Kunikida seriously contemplated face-planting into the stack of papers before him.

He was sorely disappointed, as even looking down caused his eyes to water and his nose to run. With a sigh he reached for the tissue box on his desk, wiping his nose as he worked. His pen never once stopped writing, his left hand typing a digital copy of the report he was currently on at the same time. His brain may as well be cotton, and it was taking all of his willpower to not get distracted from work.

That should be the only thing on his mind right now. No outside distractions, no sun hats, no laughter, no sirens, no smoke, no gunshots -

Clack.

Kunikida blinked twice, the second time slowly as he stared at the utensil on the ground. His right hand formed a fist, which earned a worry glance from both Tanizaki and Atsushi, but he ignored them in favor of reaching down to pick up the pen with a few curses muttered under his breath. Today really wasn't shaping up to be his Ideal day; first he gets sick, then it turns out that it's the anniversary of it, and -

"My, my, Kunikida-kun; dropping your pen like that is quite unlike you."

Dazai's amused voice grated on the blonde's already-thin nerves, a scowl forming on his face even though his head started to pound in protest. "Give it here, Dazai."

Dazai finally came into view, his left hand twirling the pen with a laziness Kunikida sort of envied right now. Wait, no, he shouldn't be thinking like that; he can't afford to slack off right now!

Slacking meant time to think. Time to think meant reminiscing. Reminiscing meant remembering.

And he didn't want to remember.

"Hmm…" The suicidal man seemed to ponder for a second. His eyes then lit up, as if he reached a conclusion. "I know! Let's propose a trade of sorts."

"A trade." Kunikida repeated, dumbfounded. "For a pen." Why, why was he stuck with this idiot for a partner? Any other day, Kunikida would gladly chuck him out the window, but he wasn't even sure if he could stand up without feeling as if someone whacked him with a slab of concrete.

"Exactly!" Dazai didn't look surprised by his own offer, even as Atsushi was sending him an exasperated look across the office. Kunikida kept typing away at his keyboard - this time using both hands - with a displeased frown on his face. If he were to follow his Ideals, it would mean finishing his work by the end of the day. He always made a point to make a paper copy of a report as well as a digital copy, and he couldn't create the former without his pen. Upon reaching this conclusion, he stopped to look at the brown-haired man.

"...What's this "trade" you're proposing?"

Dazai beamed as if he was a little kid receiving a birthday present, the damn pen still twirling in his grasp in a teasing manner. Kunikida had half a mind to just tackle the other to the ground for it, but he felt too hot and too cold at the same time and his eyes were starting to strain for some reason so he dubbed it as a bad idea. "I will only give you the pen...if you tell me what's wrong."

What.

What.

"...Eh?" Kunikida tried to play it off, he really did. "What the hell do you mean, "tell me what's wrong"?"

"You know exactly what I mean." Now Dazai wasn't smiling, he wasn't putting up his happy-go-lucky mask. The pen kept on fucking twirling as Dazai's mouth was set in a straight line, eyes boring into his very soul. "Anyone can see that you're not at your best, Kunikida-kun."

Not good. If he told Dazai that he wasn't feeling good, the waste of bandages would just keep on prying until he discovered the root of the problem, and there was no way in hell that he was going to share one of his darkest secrets to a man who couldn't even finish his own work on time. On the other hand, if he didn't tell him anything, he would just keep pestering him until he confessed (accidental or otherwise). The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, resisting the urge to cough. At the very least, he should come up with a lie of some sort…

But that goes against my Ideals. Great, he was having an existential crisis now. He did not need the added stress, and he swore one more thing would just send him over the edge. A glance to his partner showed that the other was waiting for an answer, and Kunikida realized that the more time he spent silent before responding meant the higher the chance of Dazai thinking that whatever he's going to say is a lie. Wanting to waste no more time on the matter, he opened his mouth to respond.

"I've been - and felt - better without having to deal with my own surge in paperwork and yours on top of that." Something flashed across Dazai's face, and Kunikida registered it as guilt.

Oh, no. No no no no no.

Dazai was seriously blaming himself now.

"...Listen, Dazai - "

"You just seemed...under the weather, is all." Dazai cut him off with a wave of his free hand, the guilt erased from his face in favor of that cheerful disposition. Out of the corner of his eye, the blonde saw ex-Guild member Edgar Allan Poe wince at the tone of Dazai's voice, and he wondered for a second why the other was there before focusing his attention back on the matter at hand. "Guess I was mistaken, wasn't I?" The weak attempt at humor made Kunikida want to cringe from his own harsh response. Even though he wasn't at his best at the moment, that didn't make it right to take it out on his coworkers. His Ideals wouldn't stand for it, either, and he briefly thought that the existential crisis came back to bite him in the ass pretty quickly, for a change.

"No - " God, was he seriously going to admit to being sick just to make Dazai feel better? If Kunikida thought he lost his mind beforehand, he'd surely lost it now. "No, you aren't. I'll...admit...that I don't feel so great."

Dazai seemed to light up, a shit-eating grin on his face, and Kunikida realized that he had been played. While his glasses didn't break (this time), a vein may have popped in his head as he abruptly stood up. His body flushed in protest, the energy quickly leaving his body, but he still had enough to kick this guy's ass.

"You bastard," the blonde seethed, Dazai strangely going out of focus for a split second, "You manipulated me."

"There was no other way to get it out of you, Kunikida-kun!" Dazai kept the grin on his face, and Kunikida was five seconds away from launching him through a brick wall. The suicidal man stopped twirling the pen, humming in thought. "Also, I think I'll keep this pen."

"You - !" Kunikida only took a step forward. Really, it wasn't that hard. He faintly registered a flash of red before his world tilted sideways, gravity pulling him to the ground as various shouts resounded from the office. They were quickly muted in favor of him losing consciousness, his body demanding rest to fight off the sickness inside of him.

All he knew for certain was that there was going to be hell when he woke up. Whether it was for him, for his coworkers, or for both, he wouldn't know until the time came.

*Five minutes before Dazai's confrontation with Kunikida, Port of Yokohama*

A woman in her late thirties was seen sprinting down the Port of Yokohama, checking every so often over her shoulder to deem that she was in the clear. With a smirk, she headed towards her goal: the docks. Her speedboat was waiting for her there, which would take her to safety. She only had five more steps to go -

"Oi."

Something punched her abdomen, making her lose her breath and to go flying into the ocean. Before she could choke on the salty liquid, a crimson aura surrounded her and lifted her body out of the water towards her assailant.

Her assailant wasn't grinning, unlike the last time she saw him. His cerulean orbs smoldered in fury, hat slightly crumpled as it sat on top of auburn curls. He, too, was alight with the same aura that surrounded her, some blood trickling down his chin before he wiped it with the back of his gloved hand.

"Going somewhere?" He taunted, even though he looked ready to rip her apart at the seams. The woman felt a slight satisfaction from being the one to anger him so, a smug grin forming on her face at the thought.

"No, not at all," She replied smoothly despite knowing that he could very well crush her. "And you?"

"Living with the fact that three of my men are dead because of you," He glowered, and to be honest she was impressed that he managed to intimidate her. "And that my own lift is currently up in flames."

"Did you not like the present I left for you?" She mocked, which was admittedly a bad choice as she started to choke on air once the man's hand formed a fist.

"No...No, I didn't." He responded, his jaw tensing. He opened up his hand, and the woman took in gasps of oxygen. The Ability User looked apprehensive, unforgiving, and honestly she couldn't give a damn. "Tell me something before you die. Why did you try to assassinate my Boss?"

"So I...could...deliver a message. You're still in an alliance with the Armed Detective Agency, yes?" A demented grin formed on her face. "Tell him...that the Azure King shall rise once again, and that Fyodor sends his regards." Her grin widened. "My last message goes to you, Nakahara Chuuya. Know that you are not safe from the Rats in this city."

His reaction was instantaneous. He forcefully closed his fist once more, and bits and pieces of the woman splattered everywhere into the water mere feet away from him. He flicked his wrist as if to shake off some imaginary blood, a contemplative frown on his face. The woman's message was downright disturbing, and he knew that he should make it back to Mori as soon as possible; he'd most definitely want to hear what the woman said.

With the feeling of being watched weighing down on his back, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine, Nakahara Chuuya of the Port Mafia set out back to base.

/This...just got interesting.

Poor Kunikida fainted (he'll argue "passed out", but same difference or whatever) and is pretty sick. Poe made his debut, though, and look at him trying to help out! He's a cinnamon roll.

Speaking of debut, Chuuya makes an appearance here! This story just got a whole lot bigger perspective-wise, and it's only the second chapter. Hoo boy. (I originally planned for this to focus on the ADA, but with this new introduction to the Port Mafia, Poe, and Fyodor, this fic went from "small but multi-chaptered" to "big AND multi-chaptered". I'm quite proud of how this chapter turned out, though, and I hope you all stick around for future chapters!

~VampChippzRisesAgain