Pink and gold clouds stretched across a darkening sky, gathering in a pile on the reddish horizon. A light breeze swept through the streets of Yokohama, stirring up dead leaves and scattering them under the feet of passers-by.
Dazai shivered slightly in the autumn chill, raising his hands to his mouth and blowing warm air into them. He gazed up at the twilight sky in admiration and quiet reflection. Twilight, in his mind, was the most beautiful time of the day, with the dark of night gently, but infallibly overtaking the light of day. There was never resistance to this development; the course of nature demanded it.
He glanced at the redhead walking a few paces ahead of him, his gloved hands shoved in his pockets and his dark coat drawn around him tightly. His eyes were focused on the still-glowing horizon, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.
Dazai pouted. "Chuuya, are you mad at me?"
The redhead snorted derisively. "I'm always mad at you," he announced, his eyes still fixed on the sky.
Dazai crossed his arms. "Well," he began, "you've barely even looked at me since the party incident the other night."
He noticed Chuuya's shoulders stiffen as they walked.
"And," he continued, shrugging his shoulders carelessly, "I don't get why you're so mad. Everything turned out pretty well, if you ask me. We got our information, killed a dissenter, and even got to have a little bit of fun."
Chuuya finally turned his head to glare at him with his icy blue eyes. "Speak for yourself," he spat. "You're the only one who actually enjoyed the party. I was forced to go along with your stupid plan, which, by the way, was not fun in the slightest."
Dazai widened his eyes in mock surprise. "What?" he cried. "But going to the party as guests was so much more fun than just crashing it would have been."
Chuuya's cold glare melted into one of hot indignation.
"You mean we could have just crashed the party? We didn't actually need to use disguises?!" he roared, his eyes ablaze. A pedestrian coming from the opposite direction cast him a wary glance as she hurried by.
Dazai grinned. "But where's the fun in that? We both needed a break. And what better way to escape from reality than to pretend to be someone you're not?"
"You worthless piece of crap!" Chuuya snarled as he soundly kicked the brunette in the shin. The latter doubled over, squeezing his newly injured leg, but the smile on his face did not fade even as he grimaced in pain.
"Really, Chuuya, if wearing a dress is all you're upset about, then I think you're making much too big a deal about it."
The redhead glared at him again. "Well then, next time, you're going to be the one in the dress," he growled. He turned his head back to the sky. "...And that's not all I'm mad about, anyway," he muttered, apparently at the clouds.
Dazai raised an eyebrow. "Then what else is troubling you, o poor afflicted child?" he asked airily, waving his arms in wide, sweeping motions.
The redhead remained sullenly silent, and Dazai let his arms fall back to his sides with a sigh. Chuuya's unwillingness to engage took all of the fun out of annoying him.
The two walked together for a while longer without saying another word. The breeze picked up again, blowing Dazai's hair out of his face.
"Well," said Dazai abruptly, "since it doesn't sound like you're going to ask me, I'll just tell you where we're going." He kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering into the street. "I managed to trace the calls between Takahashi and Robun. It looks like our mystery man is smarter than your average thug, since he made the calls from various locations throughout downtown Yokohama. So, we're going to check out each location and see if we can learn anything new."
Chuuya merely grunted his assent.
"Well," Dazai sighed, "that was a waste of time."
Chuuya sat across from him in their booth. They were seated in a small, run-down coffee shop. The shop was crammed, despite the fact that it was getting rather late. A line of customers stretched from the door to the counter, and the sound of countless conversations swelled around them.
Before the two mafiosos sat untouched mugs, their contents now completely cold, as well as a plate of little croissants. The redhead scowled into the dark brown liquid in his cup.
"What did you expect?" he snapped. "Each location that Robun made a call from is a popular tourist trap. There's no way that any of the staff would recognize one person's ugly mug."
He flicked the photograph of Robun's face around the table. The man in the image had black hair and dull green eyes. He appeared to leer up at him, his crooked teeth showing in a malicious smile. Chuuya gritted his teeth in frustration.
"And here we are, at our last stop, without having learned a single valuable detail," he grumbled. "How lovely."
Dazai suddenly grinned, leaning back in his seat.
"On the contrary, Chuuya, I think I've learned quite a lot. I rescind my earlier statement; this excursion was very educational. Thanks to Robun, I know that it takes much more time and energy to walk around downtown Yokohama than to travel by car. Additionally, I now know of several great coffee shops around the area."
Chuuya scoffed, shaking his head in disgust.
"And I've also found that there are lots of cute waitresses who work at said coffee shops. Like the one at the counter, for example. Doesn't she have the prettiest smile?"
Chuuya felt his expression darken as he glanced at the girl that Dazai was indicating. She was, indeed, rather pretty, with long auburn hair and a smile that she flashed easily to incoming customers. He clenched his fists in his lap as an odd feeling flooded his chest. He realized suddenly that he disliked the girl, for a reason he couldn't understand.
He turned back to find Dazai regarding him with an amused look. Gone, he noticed, was the softness and gentleness that he had so fleetingly observed while they were dancing. Dazai had reverted back to his usual detached, annoying self.
"What?" he growled, ignoring the strange feeling that nevertheless blossomed in his stomach.
The brunette stuck his tongue out at him. "You're no fun, Chuuya-chan. You're always all business. You won't even talk with me about cute girls or anything."
Chuuya scowled, once again bringing his eyes to the photograph on the table.
"I don't need–or want–a girlfriend. And even if I was interested in someone, there's no way I would talk to you about it. I just-" he paused, and Dazai raised an eyebrow. "-I just want to finish this case already. I'm tired of being dragged around in your ridiculous schemes."
Dazai laughed. Chuuya's eyebrows furrowed even deeper as he turned his head to the side to gaze out the window, his chin propped on his hand.
"Well, unfortunately, my little partner, you're going to have to wait a little longer, seeing as we learned very little about the case today."
Dazai rose to leave, and Chuuya followed suit, sweeping the uneaten croissants into a napkin and shoving the bundle into his pocket. The two walked out of the front door into the chilly night air, and then turned to head down the sidewalk.
"Excuse me…sir?"
Both froze at the sound of the tiny, pitiful voice behind them. Chuuya whipped around, only to be greeted with the sight of a small boy. He couldn't have been older than seven years old. His pale face and dark hair were grimy, and he peered up at the two with large, sunken eyes.
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, nervously wringing his little hands. "I heard you asking about a man inside. I thought that maybe I could help?"
Chuuya's expression softened immediately, his heart drawn to the forlorn little boy on the sidewalk. "Of course-"
"Of course you can help!" Dazai sprang forward, enthusiastically taking the boy's hands in his. "Why don't you tell us everything you know about the man? Where does he live? What is his involvement with the uprising against the Port Mafia?"
The boy's eyes widened in surprise and fear, and he instinctively took a step back.
Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose. Dazai was absolutely useless when it came to situations such as this one.
"Get off of him," he snapped, shoving the brunette to the side. He then squatted down so that he was eye level with the poor child.
"Sorry about him," he muttered apologetically, glaring at Dazai, who was pouting as he stood to the side.
He turned his eyes back to the kid in front of him. "What's your name?" he asked gently.
"R-Ren," he replied tentatively.
"Well, Ren," Chuuya continued, "are you hungry?"
The boy nodded.
Chuuya reached into his pocket and withdrew the bundle of croissants, pushing it into Ren's hands. The little boy's eyes gleamed as he eagerly shoved one of the pastries into his mouth.
The redhead drew the boy to a bench to the side of the sidewalk, where they sat down. Dazai stood a little ways off, carefully observing them.
Chuuya patiently waited for Ren to stop eating before speaking again.
"Where are your parents?"
Ren scrunched his nose.
"I've never met my dad. My mom and I live near here, in an alley a few streets down from the coffee shop."
Chuuya's heart squeezed. "Oh, I see," he replied slowly.
The boy regarded him curiously. "I thought you were going to ask me about the man," he stated. "Why are you asking me about myself?"
Chuuya blinked. "Of course," he replied speedily. "What can you tell me about the man in this picture?"
He showed the boy the photograph of Robun.
"Well," began the boy, "He came by here a few times. I always noticed him when he was walking out of the coffee shop. There are lots of people who pass by here, but I remembered him because he was always talking on his phone. I didn't really understand what he was saying, but it sounded really weird to me."
Chuuya leaned in a little bit. "What did he say?" he asked.
Ren pursed his lips thoughtfully. "The first time, he was saying something about a meeting at a warehouse, and how he was going to take out a black lizard. I kind of wanted to see the lizard that he was talking about, since he made it sound really big and important."
The redhead's eyebrows shot up. The Black Lizard?
"Then, a few days ago, he came back. This time, he was talking on the phone about an 'arms deal?' He said something about how he was going to mess one up later this week. I didn't know why he was talking about a deal for arms, though; it looked like both of his arms were okay."
Chuuya's eyebrows furrowed as he took in this new information. Robun was planning to intercept an arms deal, and it was reasonable to assume that the Port Mafia was one of the parties involved.
"...And that's all I know, sir."
The redhead, pulling himself from his musings, smiled at Ren. "Thanks, kid. You've been a real help."
Ren beamed back at him, and then hopped off of the bench. He was turning to leave when Chuuya suddenly found himself reaching for the kid's shoulder.
"Wait," he said. "Let me walk you home."
Ren hesitated, but then nodded. He took the redhead's hand–much to his surprise–and pulled him along the sidewalk. The two of them walked together for several blocks. Chuuya glanced behind them and noticed Dazai walking a few paces away.
They finally reached a dark alleyway that reeked of dogs and old sewage. Trash bags were piled up against the concrete walls, the thin plastic rustling in the wind. Ren led Chuuya to a small structure made of cardboard boxes; inside, on a dirty mat, lay a bedraggled woman. She was sound asleep, still dressed in the uniform of a janitor.
Ren noticed Chuuya's expression. "I didn't know my dad, but Mom says that he left us with a lot of debt. She works all day, but we still can't afford a house or my school uniforms."
Chuuya's throat constricted. This situation seemed all too familiar. Children left to fend for themselves, forced to deal with the harsh realities of the world so early on in life. He squeezed his eyes shut against the memories of the Sheep, who had all relied on him for support. For protection. For comfort. He remembered their empty eyes, their mournful faces.
"Hey." He suddenly felt Dazai's hand on his shoulder. "Let's get going."
He hesitated, then nodded.
The two of them began walking out of the alley, leaving the little boy and his mother behind.
"Wait," Chuuya said, stopping in his tracks.
He dug his hand in his pocket, withdrawing his wallet. He fished out a couple of bills and, turning around, shoved them into Ren's hands. The little boy's eyes widened in surprise. He looked up into Chuuya's face, his expression one of joyful confusion.
The redhead turned back around to walk toward a dubious Dazai. "Use it well," he said over his shoulder, waving his hand in the air.
The two mafiosos rounded the corner as the little boy shouted an excited "Thank you!"
They walked in silence for a bit, with the wind blowing around them and the street lights illuminating the sidewalk in a yellow glow. Countless cars and pedestrians passed them by. Their footsteps were synchronized, but Chuuya barely noticed.
"You know that you can't help every unfortunate soul you happen to meet," Dazai said finally.
Chuuya lifted his face toward the dark sky, exhaling slowly. His breath formed a cloud of mist in the cold air.
"Of course I know that, idiot," he responded with only a touch of irritation. "But I can at least make some poor kid's life a little better."
Dazai glanced at him sharply, but Chuuya didn't care to look back at him.
Another beat of silence passed between the two.
"Well," Dazai said abruptly, his tone cheerful and somewhat teasing, "I think that it's quite interesting how differently you act when you're with a kid."
Startled, Chuuya pulled his eyes away from the night sky and brought them to meet Dazai's.
"What?" he demanded.
Dazai grinned. "It's true, Chuuya-chan. You were all doting and motherly. It would have been super creepy if it were any other person." He raised his voice in a high-pitched imitation of Chuuya's. "'Here, Ren, you want some leftover croissants? You want me to walk you home? Take some of my money, go buy something real nice.'"
Chuuya felt his face heat. "I did not sound like that!" he insisted hotly, clenching his fists.
His partner laughed. "Oh, you absolutely did. But don't worry, it was very cute." He jumped in front of Chuuya, still facing him while walking backwards. He cocked his head to the side, pouting slightly with an artificially innocent look on his face. "Say, if I act like a child, will you treat me like that too?"
Chuuya glared at him despite the strange flip-flopping sensation in his stomach. He…called me cute?
"You already act like a child half of the time, stupid. But when you do it, it's annoying, so definitely not. Besides, I don't have the time or patience to babysit you."
Dazai laughed lightly and turned back around to walk beside Chuuya. The redhead turned his head to the side, scowling, but lifted the collar of his coat to hide his pink face.
The chilly night wind was really getting to him.
He scrambled to change the direction of the conversation. "Promise me to never try to care for a child. You're absolutely clueless when it comes to caring for someone other than yourself. And you can't even do that properly."
Dazai raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "Caring for a child, huh…well, you never know. Maybe one day I'll have a protegé–there are plenty of stray kids to go around."
Chuuya frowned, but said nothing as the two of them made their way through the bright, crowded streets of downtown Yokohama.
***And there it is! Mom Chuuya. He means well, but is breaking pretty much every child safety rule there is, lol.
As you might have guessed, the Akutagawa siblings have not joined the Port Mafia yet.