Chapter 4

Dazai felt isolated. Though, that wasn't entirely unusual. The empty office left him alone with his thoughts. He had done it again, put himself between Mori and the people he cared about again. Dazai knew it was stupid - illogical, even - to willingly rejoin the Port Mafia. But Oda wouldn't be upset, right? He was protecting the orphans, protecting his friends. Had he broken his promise by walking the tightrope between dark and light? In retrospect, he could have thrown the coat in Mori's face and refused to give him what he wanted. How many people would he recklessly endanger if he had, Dazai wondered. It was every agency member's life on the line or his, and the right choice was so apparently obvious to the genius.

Glancing at the clock above the front door, he realized he would have to arrive for training in less than half an hour. Dazai had been following several lines of thought since everyone, including his Chibi, had gone home. So he sat in the dark, the lustrous moonlight casting gentle shadows throughout the office.

By the time he'd arrived at the Port Mafia headquarters, Dazai knew he wouldn't make it in time no matter what he did. He reflected on his predicament as he sprinted up flight after flight of stairs, mind wandering to the possible consequences for being late. Dazai knew better than to leave the Boss waiting.

Pausing before the door leading out to the floor of his destination, Dazai made himself a promise. No matter what happened, he would do anything required of him to keep his family safe. Anything. He was painfully aware of what that meant, but at least it was something to cling to - a reason to stay in the light.

Dazai sprinted down the hallway until he reached Mori's office. It shared a floor with his penthouse, but they were far from the same. The penthouse was where he took his esteemed clientele and the executives, but the office was where he handled mafia affairs. Of course the three rooms would be located so close to each other, the man was obsessed with efficiency after all.

Dazai walked in, eyes meeting Mori's immediately upon entering the dimly lit office, the only source of light coming from the floor to ceiling windows lining the adjacent wall. "You're late, Dazai." Mori said humorlessly, not breaking eye contact with his subordinate. "Oh, am I inconveniencing you, Boss?" Dazai said back with an equal ferocity, biting back in defiance.

Mori rose, making his way towards his student so casually that any normal person wouldn't have suspected anything to be wrong. Dazai stood his ground, not wavering although he saw the fist coming. He nearly buckled as it made contact with his stomach and brought the familiar tang of blood with it. The bandaged detective could have predicted this much from "training". Blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he sputtered from being winded by the blow.

Mori gripped his collar, bringing him far too close for comfort. "I suppose Chuuya was right to say you'd gotten weak." The words supposedly from his partner stung. Something inside him cracked. All he wanted was to fix things between them, let them start over, but Chuuya clearly didn't. Dazai tried pulling back from Mori, only for him to hold him tighter before throwing him to the ground. "Nothing to say, Dazai? I thought you'd have more of a reaction, but maybe it was wrong of me to think you care about anyone but yourself," Sharp kicks met Dazai's side and even sharper words struck his heart. He already felt the bruises forming on his ribs, though he could only curl in on himself. Dazai bit his lip, refusing to make any noise as if it would make his pain any more real - the bastard wasn't going to get satisfaction that easily.

"Feel better yet, Boss?" Mori, who had let up his assault, was watching him with a manic gleam in his eyes. Dazai smirked, pulling himself up and not bothering to wipe away the cherry red blood leaking from his mouth. Compared to when he was a teenager, this was nothing and Mori knew it. "You know it would be stupid to kill me."

"Of course," He hummed, twirling the scalpel between his fingers with expert precision. "But I've missed our little escapade, darling Dazai." He cringed at the disgusting pet name Mori always used when no one else was around. Dazai tracked the movements of the blade and cleared his throat. It was going to be a long night.

-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-

By the time Dazai stumbled back into his apartment, the one he rented from the ADA, he was littered with various injuries. Sure, he could put up a fight, but if Mori didn't get his pent up anger out during his training with Dazai he'd end up taking it out on someone else. Or Chuuya, he thought darkly, reminded of the countless times he had protected the redhead from Mori before. He had gotten several lazy hits in, but it was nothing compared to what he had received - bruised ribs, a busted lip, gashes across his arms and legs, and a dislocated shoulder. Thankfully no one saw him enter the building, not that they would be able to sense the stealthy man if he didn't want them to. Dazai didn't want the hassle of explaining why he was so beaten up; that was an issue for his future self to deal with.

He grabbed a first aid kit with his good arm from under the bathroom sink along with a clean towel. Dazai clumsily pulled the bloody bandages from his arms and torso, revealing a mess of faded scar tissue. Before anything else, he would have to set his shoulder. He could have done it earlier but it was much easier to attempt it without the bandages restricting his movement. Biting down on the towel, Dazai guided his arm by the wrist above his head, aligning the joint, before popping it back into place. The scream was muffled from the towel but tears still threatened to fall. His breathing was still ragged from the pain throbbing in his shoulder.

Before he could shower, let alone rest, he would need to disinfect and bandage the remaining wounds. Sitting on the cool tile floor, he poured antiseptic over the weeping cuts. Dazai let out a hiss from between his clenched teeth, the liquid burning as it flowed down his arms, then his legs. The way he had been bending over made his sides ache, forcing him to breathe shallowly.

He popped two tablets of leftover pain medication he had laying around into his mouth, swallowing them dry. Hopefully it would be enough to let him sleep through the night, he sighed, before getting in the shower. Despite patching himself up, he still needed to scrub the blood from his marred skin. The process was slow, especially with the drugs making him somewhat drowsy, but he got it done.

After throwing on a t-shirt and sweatpants, he practically collapsed onto his futon. Sleep came quickly, but didn't last long. It had been around one in the morning when he'd arrived back home, but he hadn't gone to sleep until three. Only four hours later his alarm blared, tearing him from a dreamless sleep.

Dazai pulled himself out of bed, replacing the usual bandages that adorned his arms. The first thing he did was expertly apply concealer to the dark circles under his eyes. He got dressed, frowning at the black coat crumpled against the wall that seemed to mock his efforts. Dazai shook his head and begrudgingly put it on. His normal attire had changed to match the new article, his brown vest replaced by a deep blue one and his slacks now grey. A black tie hung loosely from his neck instead of a bolo tie. Dazai locked up his apartment and headed to the office, more than ready to be back in the company of his friends.

Dazai opened the door to a normal morning at the ADA, everyone going about their usual morning business. "Good morning, Dazai!" Atsushi smiled, the forced expression making the detective a bit uncomfortable. He responded with a little wave then sat down at his desk, which was surprisingly bare of paperwork. He looked up puzzled, eyebrows raised in realization that everyone had probably taken on some of his work for him.

He stood from his desk, pretending not to notice the quick glances bouncing between everyone else at his awkward movements, and laid down on the sofa. Dazai's tolerance to most painkillers had exhausted the effects of the medication in his system, leaving him in agony. The persistent need to rest outweighed the nonexistent work he had to do, so he left his eyelids flutter closed. It felt wrong to sleep at work, so he decided to just relax until someone needed him.