Assignment 24:

There Is Always a Price For The Things You Want In Life

Dazai was sinking, the impact of the toss had caused his body to feel intense pain and his injured arm was still, in fact, a tad injured. Unable to raise himself with just one good arm, he just shut his eyes. Was this it then? He hadn't gotten all of the answers he was seeking. But if there was another universe after all, maybe leaving this one wasn't so bad. Why was that girl here?

It was about Atsushi.

But then why couldn't he stop this small gnawing feeling that something more was going on?

He saw a hand in the water reaching towards him.

Dazai's murky brown eyes stung from the sea water, unable to keep them open for long because of the salt, but he reached for that arm, instinctively. He was a man that wanted to die. He had nothing in this life left to actually cling to, after all. Life was an act. Death was the only true real tangibility.

And yet, as this unidentified person's hand grasped his own, he found himself resisting the urge to die. This was indeed a new kind of sensation for Dazai. He normally chased death like a woman's skirt. Both were tantalizing and seductive in their own right. Ah, that's true. If he had to die, he would prefer it be with a beautiful woman. Oh, perhaps that enigmatic woman had followed him in!

Maybe this was it. Maybe that pretty woman had decided to come and die with him after all. Was his dream finally being realized? Was there a God after all?

Another dark shape grasped him tightly on his uninjured arm. This person had a firm grasp. Dazai couldn't see well but his blurry vision made out the outline of someone oddly familiar. Whatever Dazai said underwater would stay underwater as the bubbles left his lips and the figure remained murky and yet looked like someone Dazai had once known a long time ago, at the same time.

Dazai shut his eyes tightly.

The grip on him remained desperate and he could feel himself being lifted up towards the surface.

He felt heavy.

Groggy.

How long had he been unconscious? As Dazai coughed up sea water, the blinding light of the sun smarting on his sensitive eyes, he found himself being tugged. The hands were small but delicate. Dazai found himself dazed and out of it, but as his bleary eyes came into focus, he saw someone with dark red hair, pale skin, and almost stormy blue eyes gazing at him.

His voice caught in his throat.

Was he dead already?

Oh, well, death wasn't so bad…it looked like he'd get to see the one person he missed more than anything else in this world again. He reached out a weak arm towards this red-haired person leaning over him now, on the shore of Yokohama's bay area. "I missed you…" he murmured.

Then his vision cleared and he came face to face with the last person on earth he'd want to be caught dead or alive in a lover's suicide with. A crackling, wrinkle-nosed, appalled, bad-taste-in-hats Fedora wearing Pipsqueak Gingersnap Mafia Executive who promptly dumped Dazai's head from his own grasp and onto the ground like he'd touched something absolutely rotten.

Dazai closed his eyes again, smiling like he was a man who truly had withered to nothing, and put his good hand over his heart. "Kill me now," he said in a deadly somber tone.

Chuuya Nakahara wanted badly to take this free ticket to send Dazai to Hell and cash it in, but a look from his own boss, Mori who was standing nearby, made him unfortunately, unable to do so.

"My, you are energetic, that's a good sign," Mori sighed, gazing at the bedraggled ADA agent trying to coax his own subordinate to currently eliminate him shortly after Chuuya had saved him from the water.

Dazai record scratched.

Mori Ougai was here too?

Dazai rose faster than a man come back from the dead after being in a rock tomb for three days, more like three seconds ; something to note in a 'Celestial Book of World Records' and he just had this utterly disgusted expression of horror on his face as he shot up like a rocket. He flinched, his wet injured arm now needing a fresh clean and dry cast, gripping it with his good arm.

Chuuya pursed his lips.

Mori meanwhile just stood there, a mafia vehicle nearby, one that Dazai spotted with his sharp vision despite having salt water stinging his eyes like he had pink-eye. Comically enough, it looked like he did have a momentary case of pink eye.

Dazai's eyes twitched.

Mori pursed his own lips. Dazai's disdain for him was clearly painted all over his face and he wasn't even denying that he wanted Mori to drop dead with the way he glared him down a few moments later after the initial shock had worn off. Mori inwardly sighed. Why were wayward children so dramatic sometimes?

Then, Dazai's eyes flashed. He looked around. He could have sworn that girl was around too. He glanced at Chuuya and Chuuya realized that it was his turn to fill in some of the blanks. Chuuya cleared his throat. "Uh, that woman left a while ago," he said immediately, answering Dazai's first unspoken question.

Dazai shook his head like a dog, his wet hair spraying all over Chuuya. Chuuya let out a noise of indignance. "Say it, don't spray it!" He complained at Dazai, irritated.

"Hm, well this has been most unpleasant, I'll be going now," Dazai attempted to walk away but Chuuya caught Dazai's stagger. Literally. He moved to make sure Dazai didn't fall over, supporting the injured arm.

"Hey! You're in no condition—!" Chuuya fussed. Because underneath that facade of being tough around Dazai, he was just a good person at heart who cared about others.

"Chuuya don't touch me! I'll get Moro n-itis!" Dazai complained.

"What is….?" Chuuya connected the dots. He switched from caring to glaring in an instant like a switch was set off. "Why you! I wish that person had thrown you farther than just Yokohama bay!" His vein popped as he made to punch Dazai.

Dazai just waved his arms, dodging the angry carrot-top, wet cast and all, "I wish she had too! Ah, but I'm not agreeing with you or anything! I'm just lamenting that it's not her face I awaken to~but yours!"

Mori just watched.

He said nothing.

His expression was exemplary enough.

Oh, how he had missed these good old days.

—-

A bottle of wine and a view of the city skyline.

He didn't need a lot in life actually. This was enough. Normally, he would be content with this. But, since earlier, his mind had been on that mysterious person.

His eyes reflected in the glass of the window pane. The dark drink in his glass did little to distract him from his thoughts that wandered.

Chuuya watched with bated breath, wondering if she needed help. A few minutes passed. Neither of them came up for air.

Chuuya knew a person could only last a few minutes at most underwater. He had a feeling her 'not ability' wasn't one that prevented drowning.

"Come on…." Chuuya muttered under his breath.

A moment.

" Screw this."

Chuuya used his antigravity to leap up into the air, and entered the water. It was as he suspected. The girl was struggling to pull up the unconscious other party. Chuuya reached for the struggling person. Consequences of touching her and activating her weird power, be damned. She didn't resist, and that's when Chuuya realized she'd just run out of air.

Swearing underwater because the place and choice of scenery mattered little to Chuuya when he felt like venting his frustration vocally, he managed to drag the both of them up to the surface. When not in direct contact with Dazai, he could at least make the girl less heavy with his ability. The girl surfaced, coughing, and splashing. She gulped in large lungfuls of air.

Chuuya focused on bringing the dead weight which he made tolerable with her help, to shore. Together, they managed to get him to shore, with the girl in the middle, so that Chuuya's ability at least made one of them easier to tug to shore. His ability wouldn't work on the dead weight since the deadweight could cancel abilities.

"Shit!" She coughed, as she knelt near the unconscious brunette on shore. Chuuya caught his own breath, wringing out his hat.

"Tch, I'm sure he's fine —unfortunately," he wittily remarked, having caught his own breath.

She placed her ear against his chest. Her eyes flashed with relief. She pulled back, sitting, and finally looked at Chuuya. "He's breathing…" she got to her feet, soaked and shaking. Chuuya was pretty wet himself, but he could tell the dive had taken her breath away—almost literally.

"I can't fault you for wanting to toss him out like the trash he is," Chuuya replied, huffing and folding his arms across his chest, his wet hat now back on his head.

"I never meant to put his life in danger," the young woman spoke, her voice distraught. Chuuya's quips died down. She was more shaken up about throwing him into the canal than Chuuya's own initial reaction. Now, in hindsight, he thought it had been a little funny.

"You wouldn't have dumbly jumped in after him and nearly drowned if you had meant it," Chuuya wryly pointed out, awkward and not sure how to comfort this person. He was still processing her earlier bombshell and would need some very strong alcohol to help it sink in. Indubitably.

The girl began to sniffle. "Thank goodness, he's alright," she said, voice wavering. She brushed some of Dazai's wet bangs out of his eyes and Chuuya was having a hard time not seeing them as somewhat romantically inclined. He kept his mouth shut because Chuuya actually knew how to pick the right time and right place to ask questions of a certain intrusive nature, but he did have to wonder. She took a deep breath, before she got to her feet now. "Take care of things," she said, gazing at Chuuya.

Chuuya blinked. "Huh? Where are you going?" He found himself asking the question, and kicked himself internally for sounding so dumb.

"I'm not sticking around for your boss to show up," Alu deadpanned, gazing at Chuuya. "Oh, and thank you, for saving me, Chuuya." She walked over to Chuuya and Chuuya tensed instinctively but she held out her hand as though to shake his own.

Chuuya gazed at her.

She smiled, though it was wobbly. Chuuya sensed she was still emotionally distraught but he didn't know how to comfort her. He wasn't Dazai. He didn't have a monologue of the perfect cheesy-ass dialogue prepared in advance. But, this person was thanking him. He sighed inwardly. Normally he'd call an eye for an eye, but considering she'd risked her life to save someone who was potentially still valuable to Mori, he figured they were oddly even—ironically.

"No need to thank me," he said gruffly, gazing at her outstretched hand. Nothing happened to him when he'd activated his ability and touched her. Which meant it was definitely one she could instigate. That was something worth noting to his boss. Regardless, Chuuya still had his own questions. "Just…the next time you decide to throw him into the canal, let me know first, so I can help," he said, trying to make her feel better, despite himself. He knows he shouldn't get too close to her but he found he couldn't stand the thought of her being this upset.

And over that guy.

To his surprise she blinked, and then she let out a small shaky chuckle. "As I thought, you really are still a good guy, huh?" Her eyes were warm and her touch felt calming. Chuuya didn't get any sense of danger from this person. It was unlike a feeling he'd ever truly known.

Chuuya shook her hand, but he tipped his hat over his eyes, so his darkening cheeks weren't immediately apparent to her. They didn't feel like they were opponents. Honestly, she felt like she was just a person that did care about this city…and him by extension. Someone she admired huh? What did those words even mean? He wanted badly to ask but the timing didn't feel right. Chuuya felt his feelings mixed inside of himself. He knew the Port Mafia had to be on guard when it came to her.

But he disliked the notion of having to be on the opposite side of this person.

Alternative universe? Maybe.

But he was thankful they were in a temporary ceasefire with one another. Chuuya couldn't actually honestly say what he would do if he was ordered to kill this person again.

After that she had left. Naturally he had called Mori. But, Dazai, being prideful and well, Dazai , had taken off, refusing to take up Mori's offer to get his arm looked at, at least. It was true dazai could just go to a normal hospital, but Chuuya could also tell that Dazai had intense unbridled animosity towards Mori.

He had told Mori mostly everything he'd learned about that girl from today's interaction. It was not in Chuuya's nature to actively deceive someone like Mori who had given him a sense of purpose and a place to call his own. That's why…keeping something from him felt wrong and yet those glaring disconcerting sienna eyes were more deadly than any punishment Chuuya would receive if Mori did find out the truth about that young woman.

Chuuya stared at the thick red wine in his glass, like blood. "Alternative worlds huh…?"

He took a deep gulp of wine. When shit stopped making sense that only meant one plausible solution. It was time to start drinking.

—-

Dazai stared at the ceiling.

He had returned to the office building he and the other ADA members were using to hide from the Guild chaos currently, from the hospital, and his arm was freshly bandaged and cast properly. He had a lot to think about. Lying on one of the borrowed hospital beds in a makeshift infirmary where he, Kunikida, and Kenji were currently sharing as sleeping quarters, Dazai held the bar Lupin box of cigarettes in his uninjured bandaged hand.

Another universe huh? He furrowed his brow. She wasn't with The Port Mafia, but she was getting extra points in Dazai's mind for keeping up her enigma streak. A universe where he and Chuuya were friends ? Now that was not a universe Dazai had been to, personally or considered as actual reality. He thought about how she threw him into the canal.

Actually even if she was a body builder it should have been physically impossible to throw him as far as she had. If he really thought about it, he realized she'd used some power on him and his own ability activated to negate it but she had managed to use something else entirely.

What a woman.

He simply had to find her again.

Especially since she clearly didn't want to answer his questions. That made him want to find her to get her to answer them even more. And he had to do so before she fell into the clutches of that insufferable Mori Ougai. Daza's eyes narrowed.

No doubt Chuuya had made that observation as well. Of course Dazai was confident that Chuuya would keep his mouth shut on any further digression regarding Alu. He'd made sure of that, personally. Dazai knew Mori would catch on but he also knew how Mori worked and as long as Chuuya planned his report with care, Mori would be less suspicious. Chuuya was pretty cumbersome to deal with but he had his use sometimes.

That young lady Alu was untraceable at the moment. She hadn't gotten in touch with the ADA and there was no report of Guild or Mafia activity to indicate she was with either of them. She lectured him with the attitude of someone who clearly knew of the past version of himself. His hunch had been correct. They were often not wrong. He wasn't angry, actually. He was just more intrigued. But he frowned, thoughtful.

"Could I have overlooked something?" He murmured softly.

After all, she wasn't the only one with some experience dabbling in the logic of alternate universes.

But these universes required access to something, a special book. And so far the only person with knowledge on the book itself, was Osamu Dazai himself. He understood the rules of this 'book', an elusive magical physical manifestation of possibilities. It could create other worlds. But if that was the case, did that mean that from whatever universe she'd come from, she had somehow obtained that world's 'book'? She made no mention of a book up to this point but Dazai had a feeling the book had to be involved. After all, the magical book's workings were based on scientific conclusions.

To operate the book and even create the ability to make other worlds or even events in this one transpire, one would have to meet certain conditions. That and, typically in an alternate world, only up to three people could be privy to that knowledge but here, she had told him and Chuuya. Ranpo as well by extension knew something was up but this wasn't an alternate universe to begin with.

If it were, Dazai would have sensed it sooner.

And on top of that, the book required the combined power of a 'singularity' and something more-something that couldn't be put into words, but was better described as a power created from two souls coming together.

Life was a fleeting bond but Death was an eternal connection.

Dazai's heart rate picked up just a little.

She was someone who was here because of Atsushi, and apparently she cared deeply about what happened in this 'original' world. Was she aware this was the original world? Or did she think she was in another alternate world? Was he somehow no longer in the original world? No, that's what didn't make sense.

This was most definitely the original world.

But with her presence, Dazai had a feeling a new 'branch' of the original world had been created.

Just what was her connection to all of this? What stake did she have? She wasn't exactly a bad guy, considering she was running around trying to help and throwing her own ideals left and right. It was kind of like a hyper- more naive Kunikida, and Dazai pursed his lips, finding that comparison a bit funny to think about.

She certainly could get as violent as Kunikida as proven when she threw Dazai into the canal because he rubbed her the wrong way. Huh…maybe she was like a future child from the past for Kunikida? No…Kunikida and kids didn't mix. And that would totally disturb the current theory Dazai had already made for her. She was definitely no one's kid, that much he was most certain of.

Not anyone's kid… A new thought bloomed and it was one Dazai quickly squashed underfoot like it was a gross bug.

Yeah.

They may be mistaken for being similar, but they weren't related.

Dazai didn't have a kid.

Dazai sweated comically. Shaking his head, he reassured himself that Alu was a link to his past, not his future. He had no interest in entertaining a thought that was so far out there, even for himself. Nope, he wasn't going to think about it.

Did she already know Atsushi was the key to the book?

Did she also then know that Akutagawa was its lock?

Is that why she defended Akutagawa so adamantly?

Dazai shut his eyes, with a small hum, a cunning smirk spreading on his features. Even Ranpo couldn't deduce if she was a friend or a foe. She had even stumped him. It was true that the rules of the book existed so that no one person's brain would combust from too many worlds frying their brain if they were overexposed to the countless possibilities. It took a special kind of mind to harness the ability to work through all of those worlds to find a center point. Dazai Osamu had been that one such individual.

Dazai shivered.

He wasn't shivering because he felt cold or wary.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

He felt a sense of swooning excitable elation. Someone fun had come to play in his city.

"The real question is….are you just another bolt or a wrench that will shake this world up to its foundation?" He softly mused out loud to no one.

His eyes were pale like thin sheets of ice.

His light hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a small braid one one side of his head.

He sat in a wicker chair, gazing listless, at the crackling fire that brightened the otherwise simple room he was in that was otherwise dark with no windows to speak of.

A log crackled on the fire before dropping into place, the wood being eaten ravenously by the tongues of flame that engulfed it. The man twitched. He was someone who had come to Yokohama a long time ago, with the intention of saving his little brother, Chuuya.

But that did not happen.

He ended up saving no one.

But here, he still had some use. He had lost six years ago in a fight going up against Chuuya Nakahara and Osamu Dazai of the Port Mafia. He had learned about his own past however. And the loss of a true friend. He closed his eyes, appearing to doze off.

But behind closed eyelids, he was merely replaying a memory.

The memory of his friend's final lament to him before his capture at the hands of The Port Mafia. It wasn't like he had any will left to resist. His friend had wanted him to find something worth living for. A meaning for his own existence. And so, that's what this man, Paul Verlaine, otherwise previously known as Kuro #12, did.

At the wish of his deceased comrade, Arthur Rimbaud, who gave Verlaine his own name and sense of purpose all those years ago, he would give meaning to his existence by helping train the future assassins of the Port Mafia. He had reliable skills and he was not interested in much else.

He had lost everything already.

He had once thought his friend had died by his own hands. But little had he known that his friend had lived and wandered into service of the Port Mafia for years before going up against Nakahara and perishing. It was a year after this that Verlaine had come to Japan to try to save his little brother of government experimentation and learned all the secrets under those unturned stones the city Yokohama held.

This place had been Rimbaud's final resting place.

In a poetic way, Verlaine was content to let it also be his own.

Verlaine was only alive because of Rimbaud. He had lost his 'gate' so to speak in the fight against Chuuya six years ago. While he still had some anti-gravity skill left, he was nowhere near the powerful deadly assassin he had been back then. But, it would appear, his current Boss didn't mind all too much.

Rimbaud had wanted to give Verlaine a chance at learning what it meant to be human. Even now, Verlaine held Rimbaud close in his heart. What he felt for Rimbaud was the closest thing to what humans called love. Only he had realized too late. Still, his best friend's smiling face and their hands touching through Rimbaud's 'singularity' that he'd created in Verlaine's final moments in order to save Verlaine, having always left a part of himself with Verlaine to protect him, unbeknownst to him, remained a constant vision in Verlaine's mind.

Rimbaud had wanted him to know the value of being born.

Verlaine's eyes misted as he opened them again. He made not a sound but still, his heart felt like it had long since twisted into nothing. And yet, he continued to live on. He had been given a second chance at this life, and he would honor Rimbaud's memory by helping others and giving them a sense of purpose. His current Boss promised that Verlaine could do so under his jurisdiction.

But there was another reason Verlaine stayed in this city.

Just one more reason.

Whenever anyone checked on him in the past they would ask what he was waiting for. Every time, in a voice that was tranquil like a lullaby, he'd reply.

"There's a storm brewing."

Alu sat in a chair.

She was quiet.

She had been watching this individual rest, eyes closed, unconscious, for some time. Technically she wasn't supposed to be here. But, she'd snuck in because she had her ways. Dazai wasn't the only one who could be slippery and cunning. She gazed at the person in the full body cast before her.

It was morning. It'd been almost a week since the car crash.

She had inferred from the nurses and his medical sheet that this person was going to make it. But, the cost of the damage to his body was severe. Alu just gazed at this person, honey eyes empty and glassy.

How had things gotten this bad?

She had tried to be impartial.

She was willing to 'let things play out'. Or she had been. She clenched her fists in her hands, and resting her chin on her fists, elbows on her lap, as she gazed at the sleeping individual. Her expression was taut.

She knew Dazai had been checking on this person every day. Although she made sure to avoid him catching her, she knew it was only a matter of time. She rested her forehead in her hands, her fingers digging into her hair to their roots. She combed her fingers through her hair, her normal braid a simple ponytail today.

This individual, mummified worse than even Dazai, was Ango Sakaguchi. Agent of the Division of Unusual Powers, and technically, high-key considered Officer Chief Taneda's right hand man. He was to Taneda what Dazai used to be to Mori and who Ranpo was to Fukuzawa. It's kind of funny, she thought to herself, staring at the window, listless, that if one thought hard enough, they could draw parallels between the relationships of anyone.

Alu was highly perceptive and tended to pick up interesting traits that may be otherwise overlooked unless verbalized about others and their own relationships. But, she knew sometimes she dug too deep.

She closed her eyes for a second, her own feelings mixed. In all honesty, it wasn't like Ango and her were even friends. Her relationship with Ango Sakaguchi in the past could be explained as strained at best. The reason? They didn't see eye to eye. They never had.

But, Alu blamed herself to some degree, for not realizing just how far Dazai had been willing to go when he chose to gamble Ango's life. The monitors beeped and whirred, the only other sounds in this private hospital wing room. She stood finally from her chair.

She knew the cost of sinking too deep into the narrative.

And yet.

She couldn't bear to see this world burn too. Maybe there was a bigger picture. Maybe those who had been lost would be found again. Perhaps. There was a point to all of the pain and suffering up to this moment. Or maybe it was just the projected crash course and there was no real purpose at all. To any of it. Maybe the tragedy and death of those innocent lives she kept in her own heart had been a part of a greater cosmic design.

Well, screw that Design.

That Design was making three organizations fall apart at their very seams.

No. Alu straightened her posture. Her negative feelings would not make her turn her back on those kids. Nor would she abandon her current resolve to help that young girl, Kyouka. Alu pulled out her small red book.

She knew both Yosano and Dazai had snooped in it before. But they had most likely been sorely disappointed. Because in her book, nothing had been written. It was blank. A story unwritten, but the heart of the story rests in Alu's own mind.

This mysterious ability of the unknown Author who created the unique skill 'the book' of creation, was what Fitzgerald had come to Japan for. Alu's eyes flickered. A book was the result of a tree's flesh being bound into a physical tangible form. A tree had three parts, the trunk, branches, and then first and foremost…its roots. Worlds created from this special book were symbolic of the endless possibilities. But because of the existence of this book, innocent blood had been spilled and would only be spilled again. The ink was red in Alu's mind as far as she was concerned. Scarlet, the color of fate itself.

And history itself was often written in blood spilled.

She sighed smally, honey eyes flickering like a low flame as she pocketed her own small book again. Her own book was not magical. But it was her own rock.

Perhaps this elusive magical book lurking in Yokohama did have the power to change the fate of one lost.

Perhaps Atsushi Nakajima was the key.

It was the reason Fitzgerald captured the boy. But Fitzgerald was not a smart man in his own right, though he boasted a fine crew and a big wallet to compensate for his lesser qualities. Alu gazed at the unconscious man, the sunlight coming in through the blinds.

She felt as powerless as the immobilized agent looked.

But she was a sharp woman. Her eyes narrowed. The Guild would have been out of commission far sooner had that man been in power longer. She had a hunch he had only taken over The Guild in recent years for the sake of capturing Atsushi. Alu huffed inwardly. An organization should be run by a leader who has the best interests of those under them in mind. Fitzgerald only cared about himself.

He reminded Alu a bit of Dazai. Both were reckless with those who served under them. Both had tunnel vision when it came to their own goals. Both didn't do a great job listening to a voice that wasn't their own. The only distinction was Alu felt that Dazai was willing to sacrifice everything including himself, to see his own plans come to fruition. Did he care about the ADA? Did he actually care about Atsushi or Kyouka?

No doubt Dazai had a plan for Atsushi's retrieval. But Alu had to wonder just what Dazai's true intention was for Atsushi. She had wanted to believe he picked up Atsushi out of a sense of respect for his dead friend. But perhaps that wasn't the case. More than likely Atsushi was just another tool.

Alu's eyes flickered.

Dazai had stated he planned to save Kyouka in his own way. He had reassured Kouyou he would. Perhaps that was another worthy distinction to note from his former self and Fitzgerald.

"Have you really changed?" She murmured, expression tight and distressed. Dazai was a self destructive person. Sure, he didn't like Ango and their history was not great, but gazing at the government agent now, Alu's anger sat solely with Dazai Osamu.