Dazai limped as fast as he could over the garden at the grand estate that had been his home for the past three years.
He had been good. He had been so good. Done everything they told him too. Spoke when told to speak, shut up when told to shut up. Fucking barked when told to bark.
But, even he had his limits.
Kill when told to kill. No, he just couldn't. How could they expect him to kill a defenseless animal?
The dog had been caged. It looked so defeated. Given up, abused, tired, starving, just like himself. They might as well tell him to kill himself. But he knew they would never give him that satisfaction.
He had lost count of how many times he had tried now. Nothing ever worked. Hanging, overdosing, drowning, starving, cutting his main artery, bag over the head and stabbed himself. Once, he'd been so desperate that he tried to knock himself to death by slamming his head repeatedly into a brick wall. Obviously, which he realized after the fact, he hadn't been in his right mind. It should have been pretty clear that he would lose consciousness long before he would actually die.
He never could do anything right.
Oh god, that poor dog.
Stumbling down a small hill between Kouyou's flowerbeds, he ran towards the gazebo and huddled down behind it, drawing his sore knees to his chest, resting his arm that was in a sling in his lap behind them and buried his face in the arm he left on top of his knees.
'Excellent camouflage, stupid- no one will ever find you here', he ridiculed himself, but couldn't move. His breathing was too quick and before doing anything else, he just needed to calm down.
"Hey kiddo, you alright there?"
Dazai startled and pressed his back against the gazebo as his head snapped up towards the sound.
It was a young man, older than himself. He was tall, had auburn hair, beard stubbles on his cheek and greyish eyes that looked at him with a mix of confusion and concern.
Dazai couldn't remember ever seeing him before and his tan coat didn't fit in with the black ones usually worn by the members of the Port Mafia. That didn't mean he could be trusted, though. Or maybe it meant he definitely couldn't trust him. Shit, he didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.
"You okay? You seemed a little distraught over here," the man smiled and crouched down in front of him, as his arm moved from his side and proceeded towards Dazai.
Dazai quickly braced himself for whatever he was going to do to him, but was surprised when his rowdy bangs were gently brushed away from his face.
With weary eyes, Dazai peeked up on the man, still on guard.
"My name is Sakunosuke Oda, but, most people just call me Oda."
His smile didn't budge. It was unnerving for Dazai. The only smile he was used to was Mori's twisted plastered-on and stiff one. This one seemed… genuine? Could that really be, in this house of horror? He decided not to say anything yet, just to be safe.
Oda chuckled mildly. "I'm new. I just got hired. You don't have to be shy."
Voices were heard closing in on them, yelling his name in an indecipherable tone. Dazai curled more tightly in on himself.
"Is that you? Dazai?" Oda asked, and looked towards where the voices were coming from.
"You probably shouldn't be seen with me," Dazai's weak voice said, peeking up from where he had placed his face against his knees. "You might get in trouble."
Oda looked at him with keening eyes, before getting up and meeting Mori as he turned the corner to the gazebo.
"Oh," Mori exclaimed. "Sakunosuke Oda. How nice to see you again."
"Dr. Mori," he smiled. "I just had the pleasure of meeting this bright young man," he said, gesturing to the trembling boy in the grass.
"Really? Yes, he certainly is a bright young man. Now, if you will excuse us, we have some training to get back to," Mori's eyes hardened as he looked down on Dazai. "Come on, Dazai. Recess is over."
Dazai got up on shaky knees, obediently following his mentor back to the house. Looking over his shoulder one last time, he could see Oda give him a short wave, looking deep in thought as they disappeared back into the mansion.
The dog wasn't as defenseless as he had thought.
The furry body laid, finally unmoving, in a bloodied pile. A few feet in front, with his back turned away from it, sat Dazai in his own pool of blood.
His body was covered in bites and scratches. Most noticeably, his face had several bleeding wounds, and his inner thigh had a deep bite mark.
He sobbed quietly, holding the small butter knife he'd been given as his only weapon in a tight grip. The taste of bile was in his mouth, and he could only shift slightly before he retched and started to throw up all over the floor and himself.
As soon as his stomach had settled, he scooted away from the vomit and further from the cadaver before he hurled the knife with all the force that was left in his body to the wall. It chimed sharply as it bounced off the wall and landed somewhere behind him.
The sobbing was less quiet now, but he didn't care. He wanted to scream until his voice gave out. Wanted to shout and curse and cry and laugh and... die. He just wanted this to be over.
If only Master Mori would come back and let him out soon. See how good he had done. Maybe then... it wouldn't be so bad. Mori always praised him when doing good, and he had, hadn't he?
He'd been sitting there for several hours, but Mori had still not shown up. The floor was cold and his entire body was covered in goosebumps- blood and goosebumps. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to travel to his happy place.
It was in the garden, except, the mansion wasn't there. He imagined that it had burned down with everyone in the Port Mafia still in it. He had locked the doors himself.
It was just him and Chuuya, teasing each other, laughing and playing soccer. How long had it been since they had been allowed to play together? Probably more than a year. They were still talking, studying together sometimes, but, they were never able to actually enjoy themselves anymore.
To his surprise, a tan coat appeared into the picture. The auburn hair waving slightly in the refreshing wind, smiling reassuringly at them and standing with his hands in his pockets.
How he wished he had that coat now.
Dazai snapped back to reality. But, not to the dark room with the dead dog. No, the reality.
The reality where Chuuya and himself had been bitter enemies for years. The reality where Oda was dead. The reality where his father had seemingly rose from his grave.
The reality where he was chained to the wall in the belfry, just like he had been as a child.
The first place Kunikida wanted the agency to look, was at the dorms. History tended to repeat itself. Even if he had his doubts, he wouldn't do the mistake of not checking, like the last time.
He sent Tanizaki and Naomi to check there (actually, he had sent Tanizaki to check, but he would not get into whatever fucked-up relationship the two siblings had when Naomi automatically followed).
Initially, he had tried to send Ranpo and Kenji to the hospital to search for any leads over there, but Ranpo had blatantly refused. He thought his abilities were needed elsewhere. So, in his place, he had to send Kyouka.
Fukuzawa had an important meeting but told them to call him whenever they found something of importance, and that he would be there as soon as possible if he was needed.
That left himself, Atsushi, Yosano, and Ranpo.
Kunikida thought carefully through their next step. He knew they needed to go back to that ominous church. Also, it would probably (unfortunately) be useful to make another phone call to that unbelievably condescending mafioso, Nakahara Chuuya. If nothing else, just to let him know what was going on. Something told Kunikida that he wouldn't be the worst person to have on their side in a potential confrontation. Either with the stubborn idiot or potentially, his attacker.
"So, Ranpo. What do you think?" he asked, turning to the brown-clad man, sitting with his legs folded on his desk with a lollipop in his mouth.
"I never thought you would ask," he grinned and reached ceremoniously for his black-rimmed glasses, imagining the air around him shifting into a small whirlwind swirling around his body and mumbling the name of his 'ability' ultra-deduction.
The rest of the group acted impressed and cheered him on, a little less eagerly than usual.
"He didn't escape by himself this time. Considering his injuries, and the complications of them after his last escape, he is in no way able to move around by himself. He was abducted." Ranpo hesitated and took off his glasses with a frown, to the other's confusion.
"They must be defected or something," he said, wiping off the glass and peering at them suspiciously.
"What did you see?" Atsushi asked.
"I didn't," he confessed. "Well, kinda. I'm not sure."
"Just... tell us. Maybe it will be useful, even if your glasses are... broken," Kunikida tried.
Ranpo hesitated while his teeth started to crunch as he began to chew at the lollipop.
"I don't know..."
"Oh come on!" Kunikida snapped. Yosano's hand grabbed his shoulder painfully tight, letting her nails bury themselves into his skin.
"Sweety," she said pleasantly. "It would probably be more helpful if you told us what you think than nothing at all. Maybe we could piece something together."
Ranpo sighed. "Okay. Well, I think that Dazai might have been raised in a strictly religious household, based on his knowledge of bible passages and prayers. And, I guess that it possibly could have something to do with whoever pushed him from the Shinja Church. That makes it fairly possible that the church has something to do with his past. Maybe his father was a preacher?"
"That actually makes sense," Kunikida mumbled.
"It could also explain why Dazai has most of his body covered with bandages. It's no secret that Dazai has hurt himself a great deal. We've all witnessed his creative ways of trying to end himself, so it's not a greatly hidden secret that he has a lot of scars, so why cover them up?" Ranpo thought out loud.
"What do you mean?" Atsushi asked, sitting down on a nearby chair. He didn't like this kind of talk about his mentor and wasn't sure if his legs would hold if something more gruesome was revealed.
"It's not like the Christian church haven't had a history of pretty torturous violence. If his father was an extremist, which isn't unlikely considering the specific Bible verses Dazai resited in his sleep..."
Atsushi was starting to pale.
"That's enough," Kunikida said sternly. "We've heard enough. Atsushi; I want you to call the others and ask them to meet us at the Shinja church when they have completed their tasks. They probably won't find anything, but we need to make sure. Let's get to the cars. No matter if Ranpo is right or not, we have no time to lose..."
Told Ya! I'm supposed to be packing up my apartment and starting to clean right now, but here I am, writing fanfiction while (somewhat) tipsy on red wine. Gosh, what wouldn't I do to escape adulthood.
We are closing in on the end! But, I recently read a fanfiction where the author statet something in the lines of "sometimes the characters just tells me what they want to do themselves", and I found myself agreeing With that. So, I'm sorry if I'm dragging it out. I just really like writing this story for all of you!
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment/review to let me know how you like it!
Stay awesome!