Soft as velvet; smooth as satin; sturdy as denim. Leather plated seats mold underneath their combined weight. His hands glide against the supple flesh of her back. The feeling of her body on his should not make him feel this way. But what is he to do? One person, one idea, has never pervaded his thoughts like this before. She grips his neck, and it becomes hard to do anything after that. But that drive, that thirst, that need. This feeling of being so…

"Mmm," he moans into her mouth. The succulent clashing of heat fills in the air around them. Each languid movement of their bodies adds to their rising desire. Why is sinning always the sweetest of affairs? Dazai releases his hold of her lips, his breath admittedly shallower than he'd like. Rust-colored eyes gaze up at her. At she who is both seraph and siren, such a beautiful and deadly combination. The difference between five and six feet has never felt more trivial. He looks back downward. Dear lord this is a problem. Clouded eyes with such little fog; it must be so obvious to her. "My, my, have you been missing me?" his voice drips with heavy lust. "It's only been a couple of days."

"Shut up." Rei grabs his jacket and resumes making out with him. The coarse fabric of his clothes works perfectly in tandem with the delicious texture of his lips. This light, this specific gratification that only comes with the touch of his hand. It is euphoria. Like rain in the spring or clouds in the summer, it is so hard to authorize. She lingers at the edge of his mouth, taking more time than she'd hope to pull away.

"What?" His evening brown eyes search over her midnight green ones. The earnest look on her face sends a stampede of animals charging through his stomach. The way the light reflects in her eyes should not impact him this way.

"I don't know." Her voice is barely a whisper; her hand embeds itself into the thick of his hair. "You're kinda cute sometimes." He tilts his head and she bites her lip, all of a sudden much more bashful than she had been. Why did she have to do that? She knows better than to give him compliments.

And, of course, Dazai does not miss his cue. "Are you finally falling for me?" he returns with a smirk. His face is twice as cheeky as it usually is.

Rei lets go of his hair and instead uses her hands to hold his face. "Absolutely not."

His eyes darken, and somehow his grin becomes more criminal. "Well then, this calls for punishment." He flips them so that he's now laying on her, one hand on the armrest, the other on her waist. His lips trail down her neck, pulling at the skin there. Confident strokes slide underneath her shirt, the sensation doing more than it ever should. With his tongue still hot on her neck, his hand sneaks up to her breast, kneading it like a well-seasoned craftsman. Breathy sighs escape into the air; she hates every second of this, really, she does. The feeling of him, the electricity it brings; why is it this way? He pulls her shirt clear off her, moving down so that he's face to face with her chest. His mouth takes the place of his hand, his hand now traveling to her pants.

Her sighs become more pronounced, more like a need instead of a careless wish. He slides her pants down just enough so that the top of her underwear is showing. She throws her head back onto the couch, already regretting what's about to happen. His fingers ghost over the thin cloth, using just enough weight to send shivers all over her body. The edge of his palm is sat neatly on her crotch, ardently massaging her, painfully through the unnecessarily thick fabric. God, honestly, fuck him. Just fuck him. Gritted teeth bar the moans bursting to reach his ears. Hands clutch onto the couch cushions, desperate to grab anything that isn't him. In a moment of what can only be called weakness, she makes the sickening mistake of looking at him. Those pools of blood-soaked caramel pin her down, their inescapable pull like magnets with a thousand needles sticking out. She closes her eyes as her mouth parts, not able to watch as her hips thrust into his hand.

Dazai laughs. Of fucking course he does. That stupid laugh is the most grating thing in the world. Rei turns her head to the side, wanting to look at anything else. A second later she feels him shift, prompting her to turn back. Their eyes meet, and something about the way she's looking at him makes him halt in his next step.

Her eyes travel over him, herself, and where they meet. This image, never before has she taken the time to see it like it is now. This picture, though it seems more like a painting, of this mafia executive on top of her half naked body. No matter how much she does or doesn't think about it, it never feels like it's her. "Do you ever think about how crazy this is?"

He reads over her face, over the softness of the light dancing on her cheeks. "Sometimes." He brushes her sides lightly. "Are you worried about it?"

She gently plays with the ends of his hair, using her other hand to soothe the back of his neck. "I have a lot of work to do. Things have been pretty busy recently."

Dazai chuckles a little, his grin returning. "Let's take your mind off of that then." He cups her face and kisses her, deeper this time. His lips meld with hers in a passion never experienced before. A caress, a dance, a sincere wanting. Like how ice cream softens under the sun, melting drop by drop. And as her bottom lip is tugged outward, it becomes so hard to resist touching it.

He pulls her pants off and settles himself firmly between her legs. The warm touch of his mouth leads down the center of her body, sending shockwaves through every inch they pass. She breathes as calm as she can, her eyes half lidded as she watches him. "Don't you have a ton of work too, Mr. Executive-Guy?"

Dazai stops and looks up at her with his chin on her lower abdomen. A playful grin gleams on his face. "Ooh, is that your nickname for me now?" He raises his brows and gives her thigh an emphatic smack. "I can get into it." A solitary finger moves up and down her slit, the red glow of his handprint still hot on her skin. She shuts her eyes, letting herself get lost in his motions. His eyes draw to her dripping folds, such a familiar sight, yet one he endlessly craves. With a single stroke, he slips two fingers into her, moving them in a steady and tantalizing rhythm. Low moans follow afterward in a beat for beat succession. He leans over and whispers into the shell of her ear, "I do love it when you're wet and begging for me."

The once cool air feels almost suffocating now. How – gasp – is this – gasp – so – gasp – unfair? She rocks into him, that ubiquitous melody between life and death playing so distantly. He picks up the pace, opening the way for a new series of moans. God dammit. She lays there helpless, defenseless as he plays her like a fiddle. And damn can he play. His fingers twist and curl, taking everything she has to offer. His face lines with determination, the torturous strain in his pants becoming unbearable.

A knock comes in through the door. They both turn towards it, neither looking particularly pleased. Dazai turns back unphased, taking this opportunity to shove his tongue inside her slit. A loud, uninterrupted moan quakes the air around them. Hands seize his hair without thought. Her eyes shut as she thinks of nothing but the visceral way he sucks her off. It really shouldn't be this easy for him.

The knock strikes again, though with noticeably more force this time. Rei opens her eyes, barely able to keep even the simplest of thoughts straight. "Don't you… have to… get that?" She sighs and continues shoving herself into his face. It's not that she doesn't mean it, it's just that it's hard to say something when every part of your body is screaming at you to shut the fuck up.

"No." He raises his head just enough to answer, then returns to his utmost important work. The knock on the door now becomes many. Their sharp rings are alarmingly fast and decidedly aggressive. Dazai tosses his belt and undoes his pants in a single motion. The thumping on the door has now turned into straight up banging.

Rei sits up and removes herself from him, honestly starting to feel bad for the door. "Osamu, you have to answer it." She gets up from the couch, exposing herself to the now strikingly cold room. Air blows from the vent, not helping her admittedly shaky legs as she searches around for wherever he threw her clothes.

Dazai refastens his pants, grabs his jacket, and walks to the door. He brashly throws it open, making sure that it hits the wall. "Why do you – Oh my god! What the fuck?!" Dazai stands in the doorway without expression, not giving a shit about his now dying erection being on display. Consider it payback. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" the thoroughly disgusted voice on the other side of the entranceway shrills. "Do you have no decency?! Take care of that shit before you answer the door!"

The brunette sharpens his eyes, a thick line of malice in his voice. "I was in the process." He grips the door with a slap, ready to slam it shut.

Chuuya interjects himself between the door and its frame. "We have work to do, fuckface." He waves around a black folder in his hand.

Dazai snorts. "Like that's hardly anything. Even you can do it solo."

"Boss expects to hear from you." The red haired executive stands stern and resolved; there's no getting around this one.

The door pulls back to reveal a third person in its midst. The vitriolic banter turns to silence as the two men stare at the new entrant. Dazai glances back and forth between Rei and Chuuya, his eyes completely static. He steps forward and holds the agent by her face, not wasting a second in planting a more than aggressive kiss on her. He works fast in furthering their embrace, not at all shy to openly devouring her mouth. Her eyes flutter closed, but soon widen back open. She pulls away from him, her face completely flush at the sight of his tongue leaving her mouth.

Rei steps back and turns to the man on the other side of the threshold. To her relief, he's not looking at them. His focus is somewhere down the hall; the profile of his face is immovably passive.

Dazai moves across the open frame, lifting the folder from his partner in a single flick. Their eyes meet for a split second as the file is transferred, but any connection drops after that. Things stay nonchalant as the brunette walks by, but it's not like it matters when it's only skin deep. Thin carpet mutes the steps moving down the hall.

The air is still silent after he leaves, the remaining tension dissolving slowly. Rei peeks over at the red haired man, not sure what she should do. His expression is cold as stone. She steps out into the hall and closes the door behind her. That at least got him to look at her, but that's it. Electing that a simple, polite bow will suffice, the agent briefly turns to him before heading out.

Rei presses the button for the elevator and steps back, letting the idle nature of the hall take its course. A worn sigh comes out, worn from the day in general. Kunikida's probably expecting her to come in soon.

The agent furrows her brows and turns her head to the side; a short and short tempered mafia executive is now standing next to her. When did he get here? She eyes him cautiously, not at all sure of what he wants. Is he looking for an explanation? An apology? Maybe he's just going this way and doesn't want to speak to her at all.

"So, umm," she starts, the awkwardness getting the better of her.

"You should leave him." It comes out of him so naturally, like he was born to say it. Rei instantly drops whatever rambling she was going to go on. He turns and looks at her, and man his eyes are so blue. "Really, you should. I don't know why you keep coming over to him."

She would sigh, but there aren't many left for this topic. It's not like she hasn't spent so many hours having this exact conversation with herself. Her eyes go back to the metal doors. There is a reason. She watches as the display light changes, the numbers ticking upward. There is a reason, right? The silence now, it only serves as a device for memory. "He says interesting things sometimes."

"And that's worth your life?" He's still looking at her, but doesn't expect that she'll return his gaze anytime soon. "Look, I don't give a shit about what he does in his personal life. And I don't claim to know what the hell is going on between you two. But I think that it would be unfortunate for someone so undeserving to go through what he'll inevitably put you through." The numbers continue to tick: 35, 36, 37. Maybe it's just running slow today. "The only way this road goes is ugly."

She tilts her head to the side. It's like she can hear the cables reeling. "I know." Her fingers rub back and forth against each other. The foyer feels different than it did before. It feels cold. Such a spacious room yet she can't move. Beep, beep, beep

The doors open and they get in the elevator. A metal framed glass box, usually she loves the tranquility the space provides her, but currently it's getting on her nerves. She glances from the cityscape to the mafia executive she's sharing the view with. An exhale expels from her, the sound of it much clearer than it needs to be. He's stood facing the elevator doors with his back to the view. Maybe it's something they all do. She turns and faces forward too, her eyes focused on the downward treading numbers. But the way he's standing is just like him.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Chuuya finally breaks the silence between them, "but what the fuck is the relationship between you guys?"

Rei blinks a couple times; that is not what she expected him to say. "Ummmm," she draws the word out in an attempt to prolong the useless search for an answer. What a question. "Enemies, I believe. Or… antagonistic acquaintances?" she offers with a meek smile. He crosses his arms and gives her one of the most deadpan looks she's ever seen. Rei faces forward again, feeling her cheeks begin to redden. "I don't know; we talk sometimes."

Chuuya scoffs and rolls his eyes. "You don't have to sugarcoat things for me."

She shakes her head. "I'm sugarcoating them for me."

Laughter breaks out from the red haired executive. Tears line in his eyes as he clutches his stomach. The agent watches him with a mix of confusion and worry; it really wasn't that funny. Seconds pass before Chuuya straightens out, wiping at his eyes. "And that's it?" he asks. The woman nods, not sure what he's getting at. "There's nothing more going on?" he elaborates, a predestined look on his face.

"What?!" Her eyes are bulged and her mouth is gaped open. Honestly, she'd probably look less shook if he told her aliens were landing on Earth. "No! I – No!" Rei shakes her head vehemently. This is the most ludicrous thing she's ever heard. "You've got the completely wrong idea here." She rocks back and forth on her feet. Why would he ask her this? He spends way more time with him than she does. Wouldn't he know? "I mean, I'll admit, Osamu isn't as bad as I initially thought, but still. I'd never." She makes a sharp cut with her hand. "And he'd never." She takes a deep breath and comes back more composed, though still adamant in her words. "I honestly doubt he likes me at all, let alone in any significant way."

Chuuya stands back as he watches, letting the entire one-woman act play out. His eyes study her with intrigue, both during the play, but especially in the stillness that follows. He turns his head to the glowing red numbers. The ride will be over soon.

"You saw him four days ago, right?" he asks almost as if it's rhetorical. The agent swings her head and looks at him in genuine bewilderment. What is even going on anymore? Is she on some hidden camera prank show? The executive chuckles and shakes his head. He faces forward again, choosing to address the doors for this one. "It's so easy to tell," his voice is quieter. "That asshole thinks he has such a great poker face, but it's so easy." He turns and looks her in the eye. "He's completely different on the days he sees you."

The metal frame feels translucent. The air conditioning was not this noticeable before. Is that true? Surely it's merely a correlation. Dazai is so indifferent, apathetic, callous. He couldn't possibly… She catches a glimpse of the man standing next to her. But he'd know better than I would. Her eyes catch to the flashing panel: 4, 3, 2. "That's weird."

The top of the elevator dings. Chuuya smirks and they turn to each other in a shared moment. It seems that even the cooling has momentarily shut off. The doors open. "Tell me about it." They step out.

The woman at the front desk types away on her computer, not paying any mind to the executive walking out with some unknown figure. Diligent clacks of the old keyboard ripple in a sharp murmur, accompanied only by the tread of rubber against glass tiles. "So I suppose you have to go back now?" the executive asks. His voice echoes through the grand lobby with an unprecedented clarity. The agent nods without looking at him. "Yeah, I have work to do too."

Newly shined doors push open, giving way for fresh air to sneak into the shadowy dragon's den. Rei adjusts her bag and heads down the stairs. A weight grabs onto her arm and pulls her off to the side of the building. It spins her around so that she's staring into deep pools of oceanic blue. He scouts the area around them, still leaving her completely shaken as to what's going on.

"You know about the situation with Moxie." Chuuya pauses as if waiting for a response, but that was not a question. "Boss has instructed us to follow this case, but I feel as though it's hardly worth pursuing. She hasn't yet left Downtown and she's not going to. All of her movements have been in the same lower inner quadrant." He double checks behind himself a few more times, then pulls some sheets of paper from his pocket. The first one is a map with a bunch of red markings on it. "There's been no reported contact with any of their old affiliates and no signs of attempting a resurgence. No new weapon or chemical acquisitions. And we have no recorded motive either." He finishes and lowers the papers.

Rei stares at him blankly for a couple of seconds, then darts her eyes back and forth repeatedly. Now she's the one paranoid about being watched. "Are you allowed to share this with me?" She may not know jack shit about the inner workings of the mafia, but she at least knows he's not supposed to be doing this.

He smiles at her with confidence. "The enemy of my enemy is not my enemy for this day." He turns his head out to the front of the building. "And besides, as far as we're aware, you're the only thing she's after. So, if there were ever someone to tell, you'd be it." The shadow of his chin disappears. "How many times has she come in contact with you?"

She purses her lips and clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. How many times has it been? "Um, I think five; no wait, maybe it's six. I'm not sure."

"And your agency has gotten involved?"

"Yes. We've been following the case as well, sort of. It's hard enough to follow when her moves are so sporadic, but…" Rei looks down at her shoes. "Moxie's so focused on me and I don't know what to do."

Chuuya nods, a hand underneath his chin. It's true. What can any of them do? "You want her in custody, but she's too fast for that. She wants a fight to the death, but she can't kill you and you won't kill her." Rushed wind blows down the street, picking up the ends of his jacket. "I don't think you'll win."

Heat bakes around them. The temperature rises as it gets closer to midday. Even in the shade of all these skyscrapers, the sun always wins.

His phone rings from his pocket. "What?" he speaks into it, very irritatedly. There's some kind of talking happening on the other side, and whatever it is sounds very dramatic. Chuuya bites down on his teeth, smoke nearly rising from his hat. "Will you shut up. It's a miracle she still even talks to you." The voice on the line starts up again, but this time the redhead cuts him off. "I don't care. Did you hand in the documents?" Some more words cross between them, but it's much shorter this time. "Yeah, okay, bye." Chuuya hangs up the phone.

He sighs and turns back to his company. "Anyway, I have to go; your boyfriend's being a priss again." He starts to head back into the building, but stops after taking a step. Their eyes lock one more time. It's such a hazy line between simple understanding and something beyond. "Just think about it, alright?"

Words line at the edge of her mouth, but she doesn't say anything. Clear steps fade onto the shined obsidian. Maybe it's better that she doesn't.


Congested passageways and back alleys aren't the most pleasant way into the main city, but they are the fastest. Worn soles skip across the asphalt, the focus of the sun's rays making it almost unbearably hot. The mauve haired girl picks up her pace; at the end of this street is the main road.

"Hello Rei," a rich, full voice resonates in the alley. "Didn't expect to run into you here."

The detective stops in her track. That voice is way too familiar by now. She breathes through her nose and turns around. Wine dripped hair and an all-black uniform, truly so unexpected. Rei stands opposite of the vulturine woman, scarcely able to contain her excitement for what she has planned this time. Some more running? Some more fighting? Some more fleeing the second she calls for backup?

Static crackles behind her. A tall man with spiky blonde hair walks out from the shadows with currents of electricity popping in his hand. The glint in his eyes matches the slyness of his grin.

"You remember Dest, don't you?" Moxie chortles in amusement. Rei backs up toward the street, her eyes on the wide, open city. "Oh don't worry hun," the older woman goads, "we're not here to attack you. I only want to talk. How have you been?"

The detective faces forward. It's become a rather tiring process at this point. "At this again already? It's only been a couple of days since you last jumped me. Your obsession has really gotten out of hand."

A charmed scoff breaks from scarlet red lips. "Oh, so now you think you can start getting feisty?" Moxie tilts her head, her index finger tugging on the corner of her mouth. "I only asked you how you've been, not for your hand in marriage. Stupid moron."

"Yeah, you're a moron," Dest echoes, contributing his two cents. Both women look at him, not adding any comment.

Moxie clears her throat, recentering the attention back to herself. "Anyway, to make this straightforward, I don't know what I want from you. I thought I only wanted to kill you, but then I realized that would be too simple. I want you to feel pain." She makes sure to draw out that last part. "The only thing is that I'm not sure what kind of pain I want you to feel, or how I'm going to make you feel it. But I assure you we'll figure it out. Understand?"

All movement in the alley stills; there's a noticeable lack of confirmation. The red haired woman narrows her eyes. This does get old at times. "I don't know why he hated you so much. You're not even interesting enough to hate."

The detective rolls her eyes. "Yes, you hate me. I got the message."

"Hm cute," Moxie sneers. "Well I guess I've said all I wanted to." She motions to leave, but then turns back around. "Oh, and Rei? Since I'm so obsessed with you and all that, would you mind telling me what exactly you're going into mafia territory so often for?" Rats scurry around the alleyway bins, each of their scampers can be heard as clear as a city train. "I mean, I see you go in there on a weekly basis. It just makes me a bit curious." A devilishly cunning smile spreads across her face.

Dark green eyes still on the partially shadowed figure. "What do you want?"

"Want?! Nothing! I'm only asking you a question is all." Joyous laughter ping pongs off the walls. "I just thought it was a fun tidbit of information."

Rei stops and relaxes her pose; she shouldn't have let herself get caught up in this. Playing this game of cat and mouse, she'll never win. It's like any game of cat and mouse: you'll never win. I won't win. A mild wind funnels between the buildings. "You don't have to keep this up. I'm sorry I killed HC. I wish I didn't," Rei takes a breath, "but I don't regret it." The wind picks up, then ceases. "It wasn't what I wanted to do, but life isn't about getting what we want. You are the one with the cards here; you have the power to amend this and begin healing. Acceptance is the first step."

A gunshot blasts into the alley. Its roar is like a sonic boom, but it still falls deaf to the events of the city. The chalky powder disperses into the air, clearing the dusty puff of smoke. "I didn't come here to listen to you preach your Girl Scout bullshit." Moxie puts the gun back in its holster. "Come on Dest." She signals him with a wave of her hand. They stand shoulder to shoulder with their backs to Rei. The red haired woman turns so that the agent can see the profile of her face. "I'll see you some other day, brat." They jump over the fence and disappear back into the slums.


The cramped sides of the boxed-in room feel suffocating to most who enter, lined on four fronts with cabinets, drawers, and shelves. The walls are a muted puke-gray and the only sense of freedom is the door. A single table sits on one side, resting under the lone, low fluorescent light. There is one window, a small one not even a foot long, hanging high up near where the back wall meets the ceiling. It's dim and it's dingy, but they're used to it.

Cabinets open and close with the movement of papers and files. Chuuya opens folders only to shortly close them as it becomes immediately clear that they won't be useful. He organizes the files into a couple of different stacks, mainly pertaining to whichever ongoing case they're most relevant for. The mafia is even busier than usual now; there are so many trades and deals going in and out, with plenty of gang and territorial disputes going on to boot.

He pauses when he gets to a certain stack: the one with the least amount of papers in it. It's so dumbfounding that Mori's having them keep tabs on this nonsensical goose hunt. If all she wants is the girl, then why does he want us to be involved?

The ends of his black gloves run through the lines again. At least it isn't their main case; the boss has simply requested they keep an eye on it. Which is good because there are plenty of more important things for them to do. He picks up the papers on a bombing threat they're currently investigating. The red haired man sighs, while he genuinely enjoys being an executive, it is a lot of work. He puts the paper down and looks across the table. For some of them that is.

"The new recruits squad is working on the bombing case. They've made a couple of errors, but there doesn't seem to be any real threat." Chuuya moves the file to the side as he goes on to the next one. "Apparently Vice Chairman Kawamura has changed his mind and agreed to meet for the weapons deal. I'm glad negotiations squadron C22 was able to do something right, though I'm sure Boss will want us to be the ones to oversee the actual exchange given how important this deal is, and not only for profits." He writes a couple of notes on the file, marking that it requires executive delegation.

"Do you think I'd die if I jumped off this building?" Dazai asks just like he would about the weather. His head is tilted upward with his eyes waltzing along the metal frame of the window. The sole sign that it's still daylight.

Chuuya flips over another page. "Try it."

The brunette executive nods and gets up; that's the smartest thing his partner has said all day. It's nice enough outside, not too humid with a light breeze, perfect weather for suicide. Surely this time will be a success. "I'm surprised you don't have more interest in this." Dazai stops and turns back at his partner, his eyes in a squint. "All things considering."

The way those blue eyes are staring at him, it's like they're challenging him to a dare. He stares back in the same way, taking the match. "I'm assuming you mean something by that."

Chuuya pushes his seat out. It's the calm calculation in his partner's voice that truly sets him off. The meticulous, the analytical. Like everything always has to be some elaborate game of chess. It's the sobriety, the edge. That sharp undertone that comes with his words. He knows that Dazai wants him to say it. Oh, how he wants him to say it. Like I'd ever do what he wants. "You don't think this will have consequences?"

"Moxie won't enter mafia territory."

Chuuya walks over, grabs another file from the drawer, and sits down with it. "I meant in the long run." He figured he'd have to spell this out more. Dazai is the master of shit-all answers. "You've been sleeping with her for months now. That doesn't alarm you?" The tone of his words is not one of accusation. For as pissed off as his partner may make him, at the base of this there is a genuine worry, somewhere. The redhead glances up from the paper to the pensive looking man in the center of the room. How can someone so perceptive be so obtusely blind? He has to know. He has to.

The brunette nearly rolls his eyes. This is a pointless conversation. "So I'm having sex with her. What do you care?"

The hardcover folder snaps shut. "Cut the bullshit." Chuuya rests it swiftly under his palm, now standing once again. "You never even saw someone for more than a week before this. There is no way even you can pretend that this is all in the norm. You know I wouldn't give a flying fuck if I wasn't the one stuck with your shitass, but unfortunately, I am. So why don't you stop being a little bitch for once and fess up? Sex isn't the only thing at play here and you know it."

The ends of Dazai's fingers twitch against his leg. Even through the summer, this blasted concrete cell is like a caged freezer. If the mafia really wanted to increase profits, they'd stop spending so much on the damn air conditioning. His overcoat rustles behind him; the room hardly looks different with his eyes closed. So, Chuuya wants to play psychologist now? The brunette opens his eyes, his usual smirk now resting soundly on his face. "Do you really think I'd know such a thing?" He chuckles. "How nice of you, Chu-Chu."

Chuuya sighs. How like him. "You are so obvious." He says as if he were speaking to an elementary school child. "I don't know why you insist on keeping this up. You know that whatever is going on between you guys is going to have to end eventually." He pauses for an answer, but the prolonged silence that follows is anything but planned. Getting a read on his co-mafioso when he's like this is nearly impossible. Electrical wires crackle from the next room over. Gibbous cerulean eyes dawn on a morning that's as cold as night. "You do know that, right?"

Dazai angles his chin as if the monochromatic books on the shelves were now suddenly filled with the most fascinating reads. He walks to the edge of the table and picks up the cup of water that's been there for the past three hours. The cool liquid seeps down his throat as he scans over the aged spines. "Blegh!" The mafia executive spits out a mist into the air. He scrunches his face and wipes at his tongue in disgust. "The water they give us here sucks. It's not even poisonous!" The crinkled, empty cup lands deftly in the trash. "I'm going to go drink."

Tired eyes don't even bother looking up as he leaves. They stay focused on their papers. Focused on their job. On the future of the mafia. Black clothed hands turn over the folder, closing it. Chuuya takes the folders sitting on the table and pushes in his chair. The combined width of twelve files rests easy under his arm. He grabs a cup of water and turns out the light.