The sunlight had just barely begun to pierce the darkness of the tiny apartment, painting everything in shades of grey. Chuuya stared up at the ceiling, tracing a fine crack with his eyes. So very, very different from the high, chrome ceiling of his penthouse.
He breathed in the scent clinging to the walls, the sheets, the pillows. Dazai's scent had changed subtly, but it was still recognizably him. The metallic scent of blood that had once clung to his skin had all but vanished. Left in its place was something warm and rich and free. It reminded him vaguely of a spice ship: wood and sea breeze and pepper. And something else, a darker note just out of reach…
A soft noise drew his attention to the door. Chest heavy with dread, he rose from the bed and padded across the room. Dazai still slept on the couch, a long arm thrown over the side, fingers trailing on the ground. His lanky form barely fit onto the piece of furniture, feet dangling over one armrest.
He always looked different when he slept, Chuuya remembered. Not necessarily peaceful or any of that crap. Just… different. Quiet. There had been a time, during a particularly bad spell of Dazai's suicide mania, where Chuuya could hardly stand to watch him sleep. It was too close to death. There had been weeks at a time where he, Oda, and Ango had taken shifts watching him, afraid to leave him alone.
Chuuya shook himself and opened the door. He glanced down the hall, seeing no one. A cellphone sat on the doormat. He picked it up and stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him.
Once wrapped safely in his hand, the device vibrated. Chuuya took a moment to cross the hall and lean against the railing, looking out onto a poorly-kept yard. Junk littered the place, stacked into haphazard piles of jagged edges and rusty nails.
He opened the phone and pressed it to his ear. He didn't bother asking who was on the other end. He pushed all positive thoughts of the Armed Detective Agency aside, and said, "When should I report?"
"Gin will make contact soon; you may give all reports to her." He could tell by Mori's tone that he wasn't surprised by the decision, but he was pleased. "I may have another task for you to complete during your time with the Agency, but in the meantime, just learn what you can, Chuuya. I want to be apprised of the Agency's movements and possible weaknesses. They have proven to be a formidable force in the past; I want a full report of any chinks in their armor."
"Yes, Boss."
"Do what you must to gain their trust. If they force you to go against one of our own, you have my express permission to do so."
Chuuya had seen how vital the Armed Detective Agency was. He had seen the good they did, the lives they saved, even from afar. He'd kept loose tabs on them since learning of Dazai's involvement, and everything he learned proved to him their importance to maintaining the peace and safety of Yokohama.
But the words he had spoken when he joined the Port Mafia echoed in his ears. He had promised to dedicate his life to Mori, body and soul. He had promised to die for the organization, if need be. And over the years, he had seen the good the Port Mafia did, too. They maintained order in the city's underground. They kept businesses from collapsing. They sustained the political stability of the city. He knew how important their organization was, and he knew it was all thanks to Mori's leadership.
But the bottom line was that he did not go back on a promise. He had sworn to follow Mori wherever he directed, and that would not change now.
"I understand. I'll have a report ready soon."
"Thank you, Chuuya. I know this isn't easy for you, but your loyalty continues to inspire. I look forward to your report."
The line went dead. Mechanically, Chuuya pulled the device from his ear and dropped it on the ground below, using his ability to shatter it upon impact. He felt dirty, contaminated. Though he felt no particular love for the Armed Detective Agency, its members didn't deserve to be spied upon, to be lied to.
"You pledge your loyalty to me, Chuuya Nakahara?"
"I will follow you into Hell if you asked."
A smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm glad to hear that. You may have to one day."
The memory burned hot across Chuuya's mind, but he was grateful for it. He needed the reminder. His loyalty was to the Port Mafia. Not Fukuzawa. Not the Armed Detective Agency. And certainly not the bandage-wearing freak that was making all of this so much harder.
Dazai yawned as he stepped out of the elevator, stretching lazily, not a care in the world. Had he been a little bit concerned when he'd woken to find his bed empty and Chuuya nowhere to be found? Sure, maybe for a second. But the missing clothes reassured him that wherever Chuuya had disappeared to, he would be at the Agency wearing his new suit when it opened.
And he was right. No sooner had he stepped into the office than he was met by the glorious sight of Chuuya standing with his back to the door, leaning over Kunikida's desk. The pants really did fit him perfectly. He'd have to send Mei a thank-you card.
A sob drew his attention to the closed door of Fukuzawa's office. Through the glass, he could make out the form of a woman, her shoulders hunched and a handkerchief clutched to her mouth. So they had a new case, then.
"Bagel?"
He looked to the side and found himself face-to-face with Yosano. Her gloved hand held a perfectly crisp bagel extended to him on a plate. Her lips were stretched in a mischievous smile.
Dazai took the plate and stuffed the bread into his mouth. "We had breakfast catered?" he asked, mouth full.
"Chuuya was nice enough to bring breakfast for us." She glanced over at the redhead in question. "He looks great, doesn't he?"
A deaf man could catch the suggestiveness in her tone. Dazai merely grinned and shrugged. "It's certainly better than those rags he used to wear." He made sure to say it loud enough that his new coworker would catch it. Chuuya didn't turn around, but he did extend his hand toward the bandaged agent, middle finger raised.
Another sob ruptured the friendly conversation, the loudest yet. Everyone glanced toward the poor woman. Dazai wasn't particularly concerned, but he still asked, "Who's our latest client?"
"A friend of the President's," Yosano replied.
"And the wife of a well-known politician," supplied Kunikida. "Her daughter was kidnapped this morning; she's being held for ransom." A pointed glare. "Which you would know already if you bothered to show up for work on time."
Dazai ignored the reprimand, choosing instead of invade the man's space by crossing to his desk and leaning over him to pluck the clipboard from his hand. On it was a picture of a bound little girl, no older than nine, her tearful eyes wide in an expression of terror.
"Poor thing."
Chuuya cast him a look that clearly communicated exactly what he thought of Dazai's manufactured concern.
Dazai continued to scan the paper, eyes landing on the ransom demanded in exchange for the girl's life. "A wealthy politician should be able to afford that," he commented.
"Apparently he's been frequenting the casinos," Chuuya muttered. "Gambled away most of the family's money. They're all but broke."
"Hence the need for discretion," Kunikida pointedly remarked.
Dazai read a few more lines about the details of the scene where the girl was taken. He read over the ransom note. It really didn't look too complicated; he already had a pretty good idea of who was behind it. "Which casinos does he owe money to?"
"The Ruby Lotus and the Diamond Ocean," Chuuya replied.
Dazai nodded once, a smirk beginning to form. Both of those were operated by the Port Mafia. This was shaping up to be a fun case indeed.
Rather than elaborate on his thoughts, he glanced around the room. "Hey, where is everyone?"
"Atsushi, Kenji, and Kyoka and on a case near the ports, investigating a missing shipment from the West. Ranpo and Junichiro are in Kawasaki; the police chief there asked for Ranpo's help catching a suspected serial killer."
Dazai's eyes widened. A grin slowly split his face. "Look at you, Chuuya! Already looking out for where everybody is! See, Kunikida; I told you he's valuable asset."
"The fact that he comes to work on time and keeps track of fellow agents is only impressive next to your complete ineptitude," Kunikida grumbled. He was always loath to admit Dazai was right about anything, but Dazai could tell by the twitch of his eyebrow that he was truly pleased by Chuuya's performance so far.
The mother of the poor girl exited the President's office at that moment, in somewhat better control of her fear than she had been moments before. Fukuzawa escorted her to the door gently, assuring her that they would do everything in their power to return her daughter unharmed. Once the door closed behind her, he turned to face the room.
"Everyone in the conference room."
The agents obeyed immediately. Chuuya noticed how quickly everyone found their seats, and the ones that were left empty. There seemed to be a hierarchy when it came to seating arrangements, even if the order was not immediately clear. He took a seat on Dazai's right, hoping he wasn't stepping on any toes by disrupting the seating pattern.
Fukuzawa began by briefly detailing the facts of the case as they knew them. Hanae Sato was abducted from her bedroom between midnight and three in the morning. A ransom note was left, but the sender was unnamed. The note demanded forty-million yen be delivered at a specific library the next day. Once the cash was received and its authenticity verified, the girl would be returned to her home unhurt. If the money was not delivered, or if it was found to be fake, then the girl would die.
"Obtaining that much money in such a short time is impossible," Fukuzawa concluded. "Therefore, we must locate the girl and rescue her before time runs out."
"First, we need to identify the kidnappers." Kunikida took over leading the meeting seamlessly. "Since Mr. Sato is deeply in debt, a good place to start would be to find the people he owes money to."
"That's not a problem," Dazai cut in. "If he's been losing money at the Ruby Lotus and the Diamond Ocean, then it's the Port Mafia he owes."
All eyed turned to Chuuya. Not quite accusingly, but pretty damn close.
Yosano smiled. "Well, Chuuya? Now's your chance. What can you tell us about this?"
Chuuya hesitated barely a moment. The Boss's order rang through his mind; if he was allowed to rough up a member of the organization, then sharing basic information should also be fine. He cleared his throat, pushing through the itchy sensation at giving away Mafia secrets.
"The five execs each control a different part of the Port Mafia," he began. "Ace is the head of the finance division. That includes money laundering and casinos. He runs both the Ruby and the Diamond, along with a handful of others. He's responsible for every yen that comes in and goes out."
"So this Ace person is behind the kidnapping?" Yosano asked.
"This is his style," he admitted. "He's a shithead with too much power and not enough loyalty."
Kunikida's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means that Ace is a damned idiot who puts his own needs over the group – and it's cost us before. The Port Mafia survives by operating with a certain degree of stealth. A job like this could bring the government down on them, and no one wants that. Besides, if Mori had sanctioned this, it would be a lot bigger. He would send a message – the girl would be dead." The room shifted slightly, Kunikida and Yosano looking uncomfortable. Chuuya glanced at them both and grimaced. "Look, I don't like that anymore than you. Killing kids turns my stomach. I just bring it up to show that this isn't the Port Mafia – it's Ace. All Ace cares about is money. This is about making a profit, not sending a message."
"And you have no qualms about arresting a fellow executive?" Kunikda asked dubiously.
He took a breath. "Do I think Ace is behind this? Absolutely. But I also think he hired outside help. He's not going to be connected in any way we can outright prove."
"That's the Port Mafia for you," Dazai confirmed.
"What abilities do we need to watch out for?" Kunikida asked.
It suddenly occurred to Chuuya that they were actively trusting him. Maybe not explicitly, but they clearly trusted him enough to ask questions about the Port Mafia and its members. They trusted him to provide accurate and actionable information. The thought would have been nice, if he wasn't a double agent. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the surface of the table. "From the hired help? No idea. But Ace is a non-combatant. His ability turns his personal slaves into gems, whatever he considers a trade of equal value."
Dazai noticed the distaste coloring Chuuya's words, and he smiled to himself. An ability like that would boil his blood. Chuuya valued the lives of his subordinates more than most, and it pissed him off when others didn't think the same. It always had.
"He's always the first to run at the smallest sign of trouble," Chuuya continued. "He's a coward."
"Why would Mori make him an executive, then?"
Chuuya merely shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Your guess is as good as mine." He paused, considering the matter more deeply for a moment. He hated to give Ace anything, but he was forced to admit that the man knew finances. He could practically dig money straight out of the earth.
"Didn't he take over your first job, Chuuya? Managing smuggled gems, right?" The teasing lilt in Dazai's voice communicated the suggestion that Ace had done the job far better than Chuuya had. The redhead hated that he could read the jab in such an otherwise innocent question.
Chuuya scowled. "And he would have fallen right on his ass if I hadn't cleaned it up before he got there!"
"What are you in charge of?"
Chuuya looked across the table at Kunikida. He studied him for a moment, eyes sharp. "What do you mean?"
Kunikida didn't back down. It was refreshing, in a way. Usually, when Chuuya glared, he got at least some sign of fear. "You said Port Mafia executives control a portion of the organization. What part are you in control of?"
The present tense did not go unnoticed by the (supposedly former) executive. He was careful to correct the statement in his reply. "I was in charge of the army. Both attack and defense." He didn't mention that it also made him second in command to Mori.
"What about the Black Lizard?" Yosano's tone was far more openly curious that Kunikida's. Chuuya wondered briefly if it was a scientific curiosity in the dynamics of the business, or a morbid fascination with how an organization that used blood and violence as a currency was run.
"Officially… that Black Lizard is under my jurisdiction, yes. But practically, they answer to the Boss and occasionally Akutagawa. I had no special control of them – never did. They broker information and assassination, neither of which I'm particularly interested in. Give me an outright fight over skulking in the shadows any day."
"Chuuya inherited my post." Dazai beamed with pride. "He inherited my position as second in command, too."
Chuuya kicked him under the table. Like these people needed more reasons to distrust him!
"Enough," Fukuzawa interrupted. "Chuuya, thank you for the information; I know it must be difficult to betray your former group. You and Dazai will take the lead on this investigation."
Chuuya blinked in surprise, both at the show of gratitude and the order. The man was treating him like a full-blown agency member and he hadn't even officially decided to join.
Kunikida looked ready to have a cow. "President, do you really think it's wise to-"
The leader held up a hand for silence. "We will monitor the situation from here. Besides…" He fixed Dazai with a stern and penetrating stare. Chuuya looked between the two men; there was something being communicated, but he had no notion of what it might be. "…Dazai and Chuuya's partnership was legendary. We may be fortunate enough to have them work together at our agency. I would like to see that partnership in action."
Dazai broke eye-contact with his superior to give Chuuya a grin and knock shoulders with him. So they were reestablishing their partnership, huh? They'd done it before, sure, but that had been a one-off. Back for one night only. This… this was far more permanent. This was slipping back into a hole Chuuya didn't know if he could crawl out of.
But for now, his only choice was to accept the mission.
Four hours later found the newly rejoined Double Black walking down the streets of a high-class neighborhood a block away from where the girl was kidnapped. The sun was beginning its decent from the zenith, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen.
Chuuya did not frequent this side of the city. Sure, the Port Mafia had plenty of fingers in this pie, but there were very few battles to be fought here. Kouyou's team handled things here – through blackmail, mostly. The scent of cleanly manicured lawns and carefully cared for flower beds were more suited to Kouyou, anyway.
"Can you believe how fast he talked?" Dazai chatted away like an excited canary. "Boy, when Mori finds out how quickly you got information out of that guy back at the casino… I wish I could see his face!" He let out a laugh of pure mirth, like the very thought had made his day.
"Focus, bastard," Chuuya barked, though he knew it was pointless. "A little girl's life is in danger; where's your sense of gravity?"
"A pun, Chuuya? You know you're the most powerful force of gravity in my life." He knocked his shoulder to punctuate the point. "No matter where I fly, I always end up spiraling back into you."
Chuuya shoved him back. "I wish you wouldn't!" He should really just be thankful this flirtatious mood hadn't struck Dazai back at the Agency. He was absolutely insufferable when he got like this. "And what's with the 'wherever I fly' crap? It took you four damned years to contact me at all!"
Dazai merely smirked. "I knew you were still angry about that. But you don't have to worry now." He found Chuuya's hand with his own and entwined their fingers. "I'm here to stay."
The stab of pain in his chest shouldn't have hurt. The empty promise shouldn't have caused his insides to squirm. And the soft touch coupled with the low tone definitely shouldn't have sent a shiver down his spine. Chuuya jerked his hand away and made a show of wiping it off on his pants leg. "Yeah, right. Stop touching me, freak! We're going to need my ability."
The house numbers finally reached the right one. The pair stopped directly in front of an abandoned three-story mansion. It was unassuming, fitting into the neighborhood perfectly. The lawn was still taken care of; the 'For Sale' sign on the door showed why.
"Last chance to change the plan," Chuuya muttered.
Dazai smirked. His eyes were fixed on the house. The childish mood of moments before was gone, shed like a second skin. In its place was a look Chuuya knew all too well. A predatory gleam lit the detective's eyes and his smirk held a scythe-like quality.
So the youngest executive in Port Mafia history wasn't dead, after all. He was just hiding under the guise of a detective.
"See you inside," was Dazai's only response before he walked right up the walkway, stopping onto the pick the lock on the front gate.
Chuuya didn't wait to make sure Dazai made it inside. He crept around the back, using his ability to lessen the force of gravity on his body, making his movements lighter. A moment later found him in an upstairs bedroom, the open window letting in a breeze. The room was bare; the only sign of luxury was the size and paint color.
He heard voices shouting far-off, on the ground floor. Dazai must have waltzed in by now, the dumbass. Now all Chuuya had to do was find the girl and get her out in time to also save Dazai from being blown to hell. Just like the good old days.
He peeked around the doorframe, glancing down the hallway. A staircase on the right led down, the sounds of booted feet bounding down the steps echoing off the bare walls. On the left, the hall stretched around the perimeter of a wide open cut-out in the center of the building, an ornate railing of polished wood providing protection. No places to duck for cover, though. Not that that was a problem for him.
His eyes snagged on a glint of light. Sunbeams coming through the glass ceiling reflected off the barrel of a gun. The man holding it stood with his back to a door. The girl must be in there.
Chuuya bent down and picked up a rusty nail from the floor. He tossed it up once, catching it in his gloved palm before activating his ability. He threw the projectile with the force of an explosion. A gasp, a grunt, and a thud told him the guard was down. Smirking, he stepped out into the hall and walked casually to the door. The man had collapsed against the wall, a red hole in his forehead spilling blood onto the carpet.
Chuuya reached over the body and tried the doorknob: locked. With a roll of his eyes, he pulled with his ability; the knob came free of the door. He pushed it open.
A storm of gunfire instantly met him. He surrounded himself with a strong gravity field, catching the bullets before they hit flesh. Two men with automatic weapons flanked a tiny form bound to a metal chair. Her muffled screams were covered by the gunfire.
Finally, the guns clicked in the guards' hands. Chuuya's mouth stretched into a feral grin. This was his favorite part. "My turn." A thought struck him, and he looked at the little girl. "Close your eyes." The bullets hovered in the air in a line. He lashed out with a high kick, sending the bullets straight into the men. Metal pierced torso and head, spraying the room in blood. Once they crumpled, Chuuya stepped forward.
The girl was trembling when he knelt in front of her. Her eyes were pinched shut, and tears streaked her cheeks. He lifted a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "It's okay." He spoke softly, trying to soothe her. Something in him went out to the kid. "Hanae, right? I'm gonna get you out of here."
He untied her gag first, dropping the dirty rag to the floor. Next, he tugged off her restraints, careful not to pull her skin any more than necessary as the duct tape came free. He explained the whole process to her, warning her before he made a move. He knew from experience how tough the unexpected could be, and he wanted to calm her however he could.
Once her hands were free, she threw her little arms around his neck. Sobs wracked her body, tears soaking into the fabric of his jacket. The sensation of rescuing someone so small, so utterly vulnerable was completely new to him. Maybe this was what living in the light was like? He was caught off-guard for a moment. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her back and lifted her. "Let's get you home," he whispered.
Shouts in the direction of the staircase warned of impending attack. Chuuya fixed one arm securely around the girl, holding her against his chest with her face buried in his shoulder, before standing. He brushed his free hand over the bodies of the guards, dislodging the bullets and bringing them to hover in his hand.
It didn't take long. No one in the group was gifted; Ace must not have splurged on this one. The girl threw him slightly off-balance, her arms clutching his neck so tightly he could barely breathe. He didn't have the freedom of movement required for hand-to-hand, which irked him; he'd been aching for a fight for days now. He had to make due with defense moves when someone got too close and throwing bullets otherwise.
"Stop! I've got your partner at gun point!" The threat came from down below, on the ground floor. Chuuya couldn't help but roll his eyes. He dispatched the last man and glanced over the railing. Sure enough, Dazai was held at gunpoint. Literally. The barrel of a pistol was pressed against his temple.
Chuuya adjusted his hold on Hanae, wrapping both arms around her and shielding the back of her head with a hand. He pushed off the floor and jumped over the railing. Magnifying gravity's hold on him, he landed hard, cracking the marble floor. He straightened and fixed the hired gun with a smirk.
"We're walking out of here with the girl one way or another," he promised. "Both of us."
The man blanched, recognition lighting in his eyes. He knew who Chuuya was. In response, he gave the back of Dazai's knees a vicious kick, forcing him to the floor. The gun pressed against the back of his head, execution style.
Chuuya looked at Dazai. Dazai's eyes were fixed on him. His expression betrayed nothing but total calm and even amusement. He was enjoying this. "Well? Aren't you going to save me?"
The temptation to just leave him there to be shot was almost overpowering. "I should really let him kill you, you know."
Dazai's smile grew. "You won't."
The man's hand started to shake. "H-hey! I'm the one with the gun!"
He still had one bullet left, held in his right palm. A flick of the wrist, the application of gravity, and the man went down. Chuuya made sure to hit him where the blood spill would stain Dazai's coat. Dazai casually pushed the fallen body aside, brushing himself off, and picked up the gun. The smirk was gone, replaced with steely focus as he leveled the barrel right at Chuuya's face.
Chuuya didn't move. Dazai's gaze pinned him in place. And it was then, in the most unlikely moment, that he realized something completely devastating.
He trusted Dazai. Fully. Even with a gun pointed at his face and his arms wrapped around a tiny girl that could be killed in an instant. Even with that serial-killer look in Dazai's eyes and the darkness radiating from his soul. Even when the demon of the Port Mafia, the youngest executive in history, reared its head again and the scales of living in the light dropped off. He trusted him.
And so, he didn't flinch when the gun went off, didn't activate his ability. And he wasn't surprised when the bullet tore past him and disappeared over his right shoulder, barely grazing his ear. He heard the crunch of bone and a scream of pain, the thump of knees hitting marble. He turned his head slightly and spied a man on the floor, clutching his wrist as blood streamed between his fingers. A gun lay at his feet, forgotten.
Shaking himself and locking away the disturbing thoughts, he turned back to Dazai. "You could have told me."
Dazai shrugged. "Where would be the fun in that?" He approached with easy grace, perfectly in control of the situation. "Is she alright?"
Chuuya nodded, eyes following Dazai as he passed him and knelt before the injured thug. "Some minor bruises and some major trauma, but nothing a few years in therapy won't fix."
Dazai nodded in satisfaction. "Good." His hand closed around the man's chin and forced his face up. Chuuya couldn't see Dazai's expression from his vantage point, but he didn't need to. He knew it would be the terrifying, snake-like one he wore so soften during interrogations. "Just in case you think this is mercy, I have a job for you." His voice was cold; it reminded Chuuya faintly of Mori. "Go back to whoever hired you and tell them that the legendary team Double Black is back. So the next time an enemy organization tries to uproot Yokohama, they should think twice."
Chuuya could practically hear Dazai's feral grin, but when he turned back to face his partner he wore the same expression he had when he himself was on his knees earlier. Amusement and complete calm. Chuuya looked between the ex-Mafia executive and the injured man with distaste. After a moment, he followed Dazai out of the mansion and didn't look back.
"The theatrics were a little much," he griped.
Dazai merely laughed, hands innocently in the pockets of his blood-speckled coat as if he hadn't shot a man barely a minute before. "For a reunion this long in the making, I had to do something special."
The walk back was uneventful. At some point, Hanae fell asleep in Chuuya's arms. He shifted the dead weight so it wasn't digging into his elbow, but she was so light that he didn't need to use his ability. He kind of liked it, in a strange way. It was almost comforting to have something depend on him so completely.
They returned the girl to her mother and father. She was welcomed back with open arms and teary eyes, kisses pressed to her face. Chuuya couldn't resist giving her father a death stare. It was his poor choices – and total lack of talent on the casino floor – that got his daughter kidnapped in the first place. If he could wring the man's neck for being such a piece of shit, he would. As it was, Dazai had to give his sleeve a light tug to remind him to turn away.
Halfway back to the Agency, Chuuya felt a sudden change. He stopped on the sidewalk. His hands tingled for a moment, and the static voice of Arahabaki rose to a crescendo inside his head. A gasp ripped its way through his throat, and then…
Silence. The nagging presence of Arahabki went utterly quiet. He could feel the beast on the very edge of his consciousness, like a shadow at midday, but he felt… in control.
"What the hell…?" he muttered. He tore off his gloves and looked at his hands. They looked just the same, glowing red when he activated his power… but the glow was brighter now. Almost infinitesimally so, but still noticeable.
"I wondered what effect the President's ability would have on you," Dazai mused. Chuuya snapped his head around to glare. What kind of trick was this? Dazai only laughed at him when an un-gloved hand wrapped around his collar and its twin curled in a threatening fist. "Now, now, Chuuya, let me explain. The President's ability, 'All Men Created Equal,' enhances a skill-user's ability. It grants them greater control over their powers. But its field of range only spreads as far as Agency members who have completed their entrance exam."
Understanding slowly dawned. Then the sudden burst of control he felt, the retreat of Arahabaki in his mind… it was all linked to the Agency? Then this mission must have been a test!
Dazai smiled down at him – not an arrogant grin, but a genuine smile. His golden-brown eyes were soft, proud, almost fond as they looked into the clear blue pools of Chuuya's. When he spoke, his voice carried sincerity.
"Welcome to the Armed Detective Agency, Chuuya."