Chapter Warnings: cussing, gore and violence
Other Notes: I know Tachihara's power isn't revealed until the Decay of Angels Arc, but I included it here because I think it's useful and it also gives me an excuse to include him more in this story

o^o^o^o^o

He can't do this. Of course, he can't. Why did he say yes? Fuck, he's so fucking stupid—

Chuuya closes his eyes, digging his head into the cold window and feeling for a terrible moment like he might pass out. What the hell possessed him to say yes? To think that he would be okay, not only seeing Dazai's stupid face again, but working together to train up his little prodigies? If he were standing, Chuuya thinks he would be swaying on his feet. Even the motion of the car has him rocking unsteadily now.

Why did Chuuya ever think he could be in a room with Dazai without either strangling him or kissing him?

So. He isn't going to do it. He'll just have to call Mori and tell him that he's got to find someone else to do it. And if Mori decides to kill him then at least he won't ever have to be a in a room with that conniving, bandaged bastard ever again.

When he opens his eyes again, Akutagawa and Higuchi are staring at him. Akutagawa doesn't say anything, face even paler and grimmer than usual. Higuchi on the other hand looks livid, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"That—that's ridiculous!" Higuchi explodes finally. "There's no way they can make Akutagawa-san work with those idiots!"

Chuuya sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. He knew the kids wouldn't take it well. It was why he'd wanted Mori to break the news. But unfortunately, the man had insisted. His only comfort is knowing that they're almost to the port where Chuuya will be able to escape their angry, betrayed expressions.

"Chuuya-san, you have to tell them that this is moronic!" Higuchi continues. Her eyes are blocked by her sunglasses, but he can see the tops of her cheeks going livid red. Her mouth is twisted into a disbelieving scowl. She looks almost like she's ready to march up to Mori's office herself and tell him off. "I mean—what am I even supposed to do while he's gone?"

Chuuya rolls his head back against the seat. "I don't know," he says. "Help Black Lizard?"

Higuchi balks. "Chuuya-san!"

He groans, rubbing at his forehead. Fuck, he isn't payed enough for this shit. "Hey, I'm trying my best here. I don't like it any more than you do."

She gives an unhappy huff, still glaring at him. But before she can say (or shout) anything more, they're rolling to a stop outside the gates of the port. Instantly, Chuuya is reaching for his buckle and bailing out of the car, leaving the two kids to follow after him. He can hear their hurried footsteps trying to keep up.

As he starts walking towards the gates, Hirotsu approaches from the other side and holds the door for him. "Are they here?" Chuuya asks.

Hirotsu nods. "Just docked. I told them you'd be arriving shortly."

"Good." (at least one thing is going according to plan) Since yesterday's meeting with Mori, it's almost a relief to have something normal like a shipment to focus on. Even with their security doubled and Higuchi and Akutagawa staring daggers at the back of his head, he knows that he can just tell them to fuck off while the adults negotiate. For at least a few hours he'll be able to pretend that he's just doing his normal duties and that Mori hasn't asked him to perform the impossible.

As he makes his way further down the yard, he can see the ship coming in to view along with the many workers who are beginning to unload it. There are the guards he asked for, chatting idly with each other, the normal employees who are being payed generously for their time. The other Black Lizard members, shivering in the morning breeze. Chuuya takes it all in, observing quietly for anything out of the ordinary. But it all looks normal. Just people following their orders.

With a sigh, Chuuya turns, stopping in his tracks and causing Akutagawa and Higuchi to jerk to a halt behind him. Hirotsu stops too, crossing his arms calmly behind his back. "Okay," Chuuya says. "I need you two to keep your mouths shut. The last thing I need right now is a bunch of idiots up my ass because you two blab about our little truce."

Akutagawa turns his gaze petulantly to the ground while Higuchi gives him a half-hearted glare. He stares back, squinting a bit. For a long moment they're silent, all staring intently. And then he leans into their space, glaring upwards with a quiet, "Do I make myself clear?"

Higuchi swallows audibly and mutters, "Yes, sir." Akutagawa just offers a quiet grunt. It's as much of an acknowledgement as he's going to get from the boy while he's like this.

He relaxes incrementally. "Good. Now I want you two and Gin to go monitor the loading trucks. I don't think you need to worry about anything bad happening but keep an eye out just in case."

"For what?" Higuchi says.

Chuuya looks at her, trying to decide if it's worth it to share the truth. Finally, he sighs. "We're not sure," he admits. "But we received a letter from the new street gang that may have been a threat. I don't think they're bold enough to try anything here, but… I wanted extra eyes on the job. This is an important trade and we can't fuck it up."

Higuchi stares at him from behind her glasses, and for the first time since he told them about their new plans, her angry glare drops away. And then she offers a resolute nod. "We'll do our best." It's one of the things he likes best about her; the fact that she can be angry, absolutely livid with someone, but she can also put that aside and get the job done. She's a lot like him in that way.

He offers her a tight-lipped smile, and with that her and Akutagawa quickly head over to Gin and then make their way towards the trucks. Chuuya watches them go for a bit and then he turns back and starts walking again. As they approach the ship, Tachihara comes bounding over, giving a feral grin. "What do you need, boss?" he asks. "You need someone to scare 'em? Good cop, bad cop it?"

Chuuya holds up a hand, stopping him. "I need you to stop talking. You and Hirotsu are with me and I want you to keep your mouth shut and concentrate on your ability. I want to know if you sense anything—and I mean anything weird."

He's not taking any chances. Not when he spent weeks groveling in Russia for this deal.

The kid blinks at him in surprise and then gives a grumpy frown. "Sounds boring. But fine, I guess."

Chuuya looks back and forth between the two Black Lizard members; Hirotsu, waiting serenely, and Tachihara, who can barely contain his bloodlust. And then he heaves a sigh. Lord, just let me get through this… "Let's go," he says. And then he starts making his way up the metal plank and onto the ship, footsteps echoing behind him.

Chuuya doesn't hate ships, but he doesn't like them either, and he grimaces the higher up he gets. Chuuya can manipulate gravity, balance on any surface. Yet the way the boat seems to roll underneath him, making him watch his feet as he walks… There's just something that unsettles him about it. He only makes it a few steps before he decides fuck it, and uses a small bit of Tainted to ease some of the boat's rocking, the ship giving a low metal rumble as it sinks deeper into the water.

They crest the plank and head up onto the deck, and it's there that Chuuya sees the negotiators sent from Magadan for the first time. There's just a few of them, chatting quietly amongst themselves and sipping from steaming coffee thermoses. But there's one in particular, taller than the rest, broad shouldered with a nearly shaved head, that Chuuya recognizes from across the deck.

He stops in his tracks, feeling his stomach drop. "Oh fuck," he breathes.

"Chuuya-san?" Hirotsu murmurs quietly at his elbow, peering at him. "What's wrong?"

Chuuya swallows thickly. You've got to be kidding me. "That's…"

The man himself looks up and gives a cry of exclamation. "Chuuya!" he calls, practically jogging over. "It's good to see you!"

And Chuuya's back goes ramrod straight as he tries desperately to plaster on a smile or at least some expression that isn't just complete despair. His stomach pinches anxiously. "Sergey," he says finally. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

For a long time, they stare at each other. And then Chuuya finally remembers himself and holds out a hand to shake. Sergey takes it with a flirtatious grin and leans down a bit like he's trying to kiss it, or worse, kiss Chuuya's cheek. Chuuya wriggles his hand free before the other man can, and steps back quickly.

"Thank you for coming," he says, trying to suppress the panicked beating of his heart. "It must've been a long trip."

Sergey smiles at him. "Yes, well, it was worth it."

Oh Christ, someone stop me from throwing this man overboard—

"These are my helpers for the day," Chuuya says, gesturing at Hirotsu who is calm as always, and Tachihara who is looking between them with a puzzled yet suspicious squint. "They can get you anything you need here or at your accommodations."

"A pleasure," Hirotsu says, bowing his head slightly. Tachihara just fixes the man with a raised eyebrow and inclines his chin. "Sup."

Sergey glances at Chuuya hesitantly before he too turns, waving over his companions and introducing them. Finally, they all just wait, looking amongst each other expectantly while Chuuya tries to salvage any kind of dignity he can possibly muster. He clears his throat. "Shall we head to the lounge? I've prepared some refreshments while we wait for the ship to be unloaded."

There's a murmur of agreement, and then Hirotsu is leading the group off the boat and towards their office, giving Chuuya a quiet moment to break his posture and suck in an anxious breath. God damnit, he thinks bitterly. Who decided to send that moron here? They shouldn't have. Sergey was low enough on Magadan's totem pole that he figured he wouldn't ever have to see him again. And yet here he is, showing up like a bad dream. Chuuya rubs at his forehead with an angry huff.

From behind him Tachihara shoves his hands in his pockets and clicks his tongue. "So," he says. "Did you two like…?" and then he fixes Chuuya with a meaningful stare, poking his tongue into his cheek a few times and smirking.

Chuuya feels his face go a deep mortified red, and he scowls at the boy. "Just shut up and do your job," he snaps.

And then he turns and stomps his way off the boat, hearing an amused, "I'll take that as a yes."

o-o-o-o-o

Small talk. Chuuya hates it on a good day. Hates it even more with Tachihara smirking maniacally at the back of his head and Sergey staring at him intensely. Fuck, the two of them are making his skin itch. It's been an hour of joking and pleasantries, and Chuuya thinks he's going to explode if he has to dodge one more suggestive question from Sergey because that dumb fucker won't keep his mouth shut—

"Are you sure they'll be done so fast?" one of the women, Lada, asks quietly, twirling her glass of wine. "It's still so early."

Chuuya leans forwards and refills her glass. "We pride our workers on their efficiency," he says. "They'll be loading the last of the trucks about now."

He looks at Tachihara who sighs before closing his eyes in concentration, using a touch of his power. "Just started on it," he confirms.

She blinks up at the kid before giving a delighted smile. "What a useful ability!"

Tachihara gives her a nasty grin in return, but the woman doesn't seem to notice, just sips happily at her red.

They all fall back into silence, Chuuya trying desperately to think of something to say. He's rescued by the door opening and Hirotsu stepping inside with a small stack of papers. "Here are the contracts you wanted, sir," he says, laying them on the table in front of Chuuya and handing him a pen. Chuuya gives him a quiet thanks and then leans over, scanning across the first few lines.

It's one of the more boring parts of his job; contracts, then paperwork and filing, then more contracts. Every shipment deal that's made followed by every arrival of said shipment has its own methodological signings. Chuuya used to hate them, especially when he first started doing this part of the job. But now he looks over the papers intently, grasping at any excuse he has to not make eye contact with Sergey.

And then the couch dips next to him. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to control the urge to leap up and run away, or worse, attack the man.

"May I?" Sergey asks quietly, his mouth far too close to Chuuya's neck.

Chuuya edges himself away as best he can until he's practically draped over the arm of the couch. He gives Sergey a cold look that he hopes conveys a silent what-the-fuck-are-you-doing? "Be my guest."

But the man doesn't seem to read his expression. He smiles and takes the papers, leafing through them quickly. "These are…"

"Almost exactly the ones we signed? Yes," Chuuya says. "The Port Mafia likes to have multiple records of all our dealings."

Sergey appraises him in a way that makes his teeth grind. "You are very organized. We enjoy that in our business partners." He smirks.

(Eat shit.)

Sergey reaches over and plucks up the pen, then signs with a flourish. "Keep this up and we'll likely be doing business for years to come."

You're definitely not qualified to decide that, Chuuya thinks, narrowing his eyes. But all he says is, "We're flattered," through a clenched jaw.

He's just reclaimed the papers, bending down to put his own signature on it when a boom echoes through the building. It's loud enough that the room shakes for a moment, Chuuya's hand jerking and smudging his signature. He feels his heart stop. No, no, this day can't get any fucking worse!

Sergey and his others are looking around in confusion. One of them clutches at her neck, like she's worried her pearl necklace will somehow fall off. Chuuya is even more glad he picked the conference room without windows so at least he knows they won't see anything suspicious. "What was that?" she asks nervously.

Chuuya pushes to his feet, turning to give Hirotsu and Tachihara a glance. The boy looks back, widening his eyes with something a little like panic. Quickly, he approaches, then leans over to whisper in Chuuya's ear, "Two of the trucks left, and one just blew."

Well. Fucking hell.

He turns back to the Russians with an easy smile. "I'm sure it's nothing," he says. "We often have construction in the area. I'll go check it out, just in case."

Sergey starts to rise. "Would you like company—"

"No," Chuuya snaps immediately, followed by a softer, more controlled, "no, thank you. Please relax, enjoy. Drink your wine. And I'll be back shortly." He gestures behind him. "Tachihara and Hirotsu will be staying to take care of you. Anything you need, they can get it."

And then he shoots one last glance to the old man before turning and walking briskly from the room. As the door swings closed behind him, he hears a smooth, "Shall I open another bottle?"

o-o-o-o-o

As he leaves the office, walking silently through the doors, he gets a good view of the ship. Still big, rocking gently on the waves. But where earlier there were dozens of workers crawling around the ship, loading and transporting cargo… now there are none. It's not entirely unusual. Perhaps they already loaded up the trucks and are now getting ready to transport the goods to one of their warehouses. And it is cold out, so it's possible that they're all huddled inside one of the shelters, drinking tea and eating their lunches.

But the closer Chuuya gets, the more he feels his stomach twist. It's quiet. Far too quiet. Even the birds are gone, leaving just the sound of water lapping gently against the docks. Chuuya glances around uneasily. He uses a touch of his power to lighten his steps, making him almost completely silent as he moves towards the loading area.

It's there, as he rounds the first of the shipping containers, that he sees them.

Bodies. Several of them. Laid out on the ground or collapsed against containers. Some look to be just unconscious, but others are bloody, eyes open and horribly still. As he passes one, he catches a glimpse of a severed arm, still clutching a gun in its grip.

"Shit," he mutters, reaching up to press an arm against his nose. The coppery scent of blood is overwhelming, and he grimaces as he sees a disemboweled guard, leaking onto the pavement.

This… isn't Les Fleurs. At least not just Les Fleurs. Chuuya read their report, saw the pictures of bullet holes and knife slashes. But this… this is something stronger. Something that can wreak havoc, incapacitate dozens in a matter of moments. And it looks familiar.

(It can't be, just keep looking…)

"Higuchi?" Chuuya calls quietly as he continues on his way through the maze of shipping containers. "Gin? Akutagawa?"

They set it up like this as a deterrent for attack, creating dead ends and circles that the Port Mafia members can memorize and drive their enemies into. But each corner he rounds has him holding his breath. He peers around another corner before stepping out into the clearing where the trucks should be. Only two out of the five are still intact. One of them locked up and waiting to be driven, the next half empty with a chunk of meat that might've been a human in the back. Chuuya grimaces before turning to the remains of the third. Tachihara wasn't right. Blown. Chuuya had been picturing smoking remains, a twisted hunk of metal. But what he sees is a truck that looks like someone cut through it as easily as a knife through butter. Sliced diagonally, vertically, horizontally, bits and pieces thrown around the clearing until only the undercarriage and the wheels are sitting in their original spot.

Chuuya stares at it, feeling that spike of familiar recognition. But that would be ridiculous…

Something shifts behind him.

Chuuya spins, already pulling his knife out. There's something moving behind one of the shipping containers, a quiet shuffle almost like there's something being dragged. A shadow moves across the entrance. He holds his breath, pressing his back to one of the trucks and preparing to leap at whatever might come out. He waits, listening to that odd step-drag cadence as it grows closer. Every muscle in his body tenses, his heart pounding in his ears, and—

Gin and Higuchi stumble around the corner.

Chuuya's heart lurches in his chest before he lets out a relieved sigh. And then he stops, taking a better look. There's blood. Higuchi is bleeding. She's clutching at her left side over a seeping wound, her arm draped over Gin's shoulder as the other girl practically carries her. One of the lenses of her glasses has been knocked out and there's more blood and dirt on her face. As they walk, she turns back over their shoulders, glancing around in terror. When they see Chuuya, they freeze. And then their faces both relax. He meets them halfway, reaching out to take Higuchi from Gin. He's instantly using Tainted to lift her body, and she gives a grunt of pain before letting out a heavy breath as she no longer has to support her own weight. "What the hell happened?" he snaps.

At his voice, both of the girls flinch, looking around with barely concealed panic. Gin holds up a finger against her mask, shushing him, her eyes scared. Chuuya blinks at them and then he gives a hesitant nod and starts carrying Higuchi back to the trucks where at least they should be slightly out of sight. He sets her down against one of the tires and slowly reaches for her wound as Gin stands over them. As he removes her hand, more blood bubbles out, and he hisses in sympathy. There on her side is a gash about two inches long and deep. It looks like she's been stabbed cleanly, in and out with no twisting. He looks around for a moment before reaching over and snagging Gin's cloak, ripping off a chunk and pressing it to the wound.

Higuchi grunts, her body arching around the pain. She muffles herself into her hand, smearing more blood over her face. Her eyes are watering. "Okay, you'll be fine," Chuuya soothes quietly, pushing some of her bangs back from her face and looking her in the eye. "Just keep pressure on this." She swallows and offers a weak nod in return.

When her breathing finally calms again, he reaches for Gin and pulls her down next to him so all three of them can look at each other. "Now," he says, "tell me what the hell's going on."

Both of the girls are quiet. They glance at each other. And then Higuchi says shakily, "We were ambushed. They came out of nowhere, started shooting at us. They got two of the trucks. I tried to get the guards and stop them, but before I could, Akutagawa-senpai, he…"

Akutagawa. Chuuya was trying to hope that it was anything else. He knew those wounds, the slices in the metal looked familiar, but he hadn't wanted to believe it. But Gin confirms it.

"Ryuu," She whispers. She reaches and pulls her mask down so her voice isn't muffled. "He just went crazy. Started attacking everyone. He—he killed some of the workers, so I tried to get the rest into the shelters. Then we tried to stop him but Higuchi got hurt and I—"

She cuts herself off, looking away sharply. Her lip trembles, guilt written across her face. Chuuya reaches out and touches her shoulder. "You did the right thing," he says. "If you would've stayed you both could've ended up dead." Gin bites her lip but doesn't protest.

Chuuya pauses for a moment, thinking. Not only did half their shipment apparently get taken, but Akutagawa is somehow also going off the rails? He needs to get this taken care of, quickly and quietly. There's not much he can do about the bodies, but he at least needs to get rid of the threat before the Russians start getting suspicious.

"Did you see where he went?" he asks finally.

Gin shakes her head. "He's somewhere in the yard, but we lost him in the containers. I don't think he's left."

Chuuya waits for any more information, but when they both seem to be at a loss, he breathes and pushes to his feet. "I want you two to stay here. Call for back up and keep pressure on that wound. I'm going to go stop Akutagawa—"

A hand catches at the edge of his coat. Chuuya looks down, seeing one of Higuchi's bloody hands snagged in the fabric. "Please," she says. "Be careful... he isn't in control."

Chuuya stares at her, then at Gin, both of their expressions worried yet determined. And then he nods and turns, making his way back into the maze.

o-o-o-o-o

There are a few more bodies, though not as many as he makes his way further in. Like the girls said, they must have managed to evacuate the majority of the workers. He steps over a leg, darting a quick glance down two different paths before he chooses one and creeps along it. He's cleared about half the different paths by now, forming a circle that will bring him back into the main clearing where he left Higuchi and Gin. The further he goes, the tenser he gets; he knows he can take Akutagawa easily—there really aren't many abilities that can rival Corruption used at full force. But he also doesn't like the idea that he's hunting down this kid, or worse, being the hunted.

He glances behind himself as he continues. His knife floats along at his right, haloed in red, and he has a few bullets flanking his other side and his back. If Akutagawa truly is stalking him, he doesn't want to hurt the kid, but he also isn't going to let himself be ambushed and potentially injured.

"Come on, kid, help me out," he mutters under his breath, approaching another turn. He waits, listening intently, before rounding it—

And smacking into another person.

Instantly he's leaping back and using his powers to drive his knife in towards the intruder's throat. Before it makes contact though, something pushes against the blade, driving it just to the side. It buries into one of the shipping containers, an inch from Tachihara's throat. He blinks at the boy. The boy stares back, eyes wide. And then he turns and looks at the knife, sticking out of the container. "Jesus." Tachihara gulps.

Chuuya steps forward with an angry scowl, ripping the knife free. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snaps. "I told you to stay in the office!"

Tachihara rubs at his neck and offers a petulant glare. "I tried. Then this guy insisted—"

"I want to know what's going on," a low voice interrupts. Chuuya turns to the side, feeling rage pour through his veins as he sees Sergey, staring at him. For the love of god, he thinks. Can't even follow simple instructions.

Tachihara gives a disgusted groan, reaching up to scrub at his hair in frustration. "Ugh! I can't believe you and this moron fu—"

"Not another word," Chuuya hisses. He grabs the boy by his ugly jacket and pushes him harshly towards Sergey. The kid only barely manages to avoid crashing into that muscular chest. "Sergey, I'm sorry, but Tachihara is going to take you back to the lounge and you are going to stay there until I get this taken care of."

Sergey's gaze turns cool, all bits of those flirtatious mannerisms from before dropping away. "What exactly is this?" he says. "Construction? In my country construction doesn't involve bodies."

Chuuya grinds his teeth, trying to retain even a single iota of calmness. It's hopeless though; if Sergey puts on more goddamn toe out of line, Chuuya is sending him home in a body bag, deal be damned. "I said I would check it out," he replies icily. "Now let me do my job—"

Something moves around the corner. He doesn't have time to shout a warning, just throws himself at Tachihara and Sergey, tackling them both to the ground. A black tendril goes whipping by overhead, and before it has time to change direction, he's reaching out and touching one of the cargo containers. Tainted takes hold easily, haloing the container in red, and Chuuya throws it at the figure emerging from the end of the alley.

"What the fuck is that?" Sergey cries, but Chuuya ignores him, already grabbing the man and hauling him to his feet. Tachihara follows, scrambling to draw his guns.

"Just shut up and run!" Chuuya snaps.

There's a crash from behind as Rashouman slices cleanly through the container, sending metal bits flying. Chuuya can feel the air shift behind him as he runs, knows another attack is coming. He turns, flinging his arm out and manages to twist another container into Rashouman's path before it can catch up with him. There's a screech as the metal is shredded in to, and Chuuya uses that moment to reach for all the loose dirt, gravel and debris, and send it spiraling into the air.

A thick cloud of dust rises up, shrouding everything.

Chuuya suppresses a couch, cupping his hand over his mouth. Blindly, he reaches out, feels the soft puffiness of Tachihara's jacket and drags the boy towards him. "I want you to take that motherfucker and get him out of here!" he hisses. "I'll take care of this."

Tachihara blinks at him. Then he nods, turning away and latching onto Sergey. He places a hand on the man's back, pushing him, and it's a testament to how rattled the man is that he doesn't even protest, just starts moving.

And then there's silence, thick and heavy. Chuuya can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his breathing echoing in the silence. He turns back towards the container and as silently as he can, levitates himself up so he's standing on top of it. With a small use of his power, he pushes the top of the dust back down until it's level with the tops of the containers, swirling and thick.

"I know you're down there," he calls out, staring into the cloud for any sign of movement. "I don't want to hurt you, Akutagawa—"

A black mass comes whipping out of the dust. Gotcha, he thinks. He leaps to the side and with a swipe of his hand, all the dust in the clearing goes exploding outwards, leaving Akutagawa alone and standing in the middle. He barely gets a chance to look at the kid—his paler than normal face, his eyes, half closed like he's sleeping, the black coils of Rashouman poised around him like a scorpion's stinger, and the normal red hue of his power now somehow shrouded in a fluorescent purple—before the boy is attacking him again.

"Stand down!" he shouts, dodging the first few. One aims at his thigh, and he twists away, only to hear a ripping of fabric as his coat is snagged. "I said stand down!"

The metal bits of the container he threw at Akutagawa earlier are still imbued with his power, and they move easily with a thought. As he dodges another tendril, he jerks his arm, pulling a scrap the size of a car door and slamming it into the boy from behind. It hits Akutagawa's back and neck, knocking him onto the ground and pinning him there as Rashouman thrashes like an angry snake.

Chuuya hurls himself at the boy, feeling a slice go through his jacket and into the meat of his arm before he's close enough to lean over and put his foot on the kid's chest. Instantly his power takes, and the boy is haloed in red as every part of his body is driven into the ground. But even as Rashouman continues to wriggle and resist, Akutagawa just lays calmly on the ground, the side of his face a strange, almost sleepy apathy.

Chuuya stares at him, breathing hard. He flexes his arm at his side, feeling blood warm and wet, and then he takes a moment to grimace at the new holes in his jacket. That'll be a bitch to repair…

Finally, when Rashouman seems to calm down some, Chuuya releases the piece of metal and turns the boy so he's lying on his back. There's a bump rising on the back of the kid's head, and a nasty cut on his cheek from being driven into the ground. Chuuya's stomach twists uncomfortably. Those dark eyes stare upwards, unfocused. Chuuya leans down and pats his cheek, grimacing as his fingers meet icy flesh. "Hey, kid," he says, "Wake up."

There's silence. He waits a moment and then gives the kid another harsher jostle. "Akutagawa, wake up."

Still no response. It makes his lungs ache, makes his heart start to speed up. He can feel his panic like a physical weight, pushing on his stomach. "C'mon, kid," he hisses. "Answer me, damnit!"

He pulls back his hand, ready to slap the boy across the face when Akutagawa wheezes. It's hard enough that his body jostles, and Chuuya steps back quickly in surprise. The boy's entire body seems to shake with the force of his inhale. And then his eyes train on Chuuya's face.

"Akutagawa?" Chuuya says, taking a hesitant step forward. "Are you—"

"Noe," the boy says. Or not the boy, because that's not his voice. This is deep, rasping almost. Sounds like it's smoked a pack a day for the last five years. And that name... Noe. He didn't think it could be, but somehow Les Fleurs really did do this. Chuuya's blood turns to ice.

"Noe," Akutagawa's mouth says, "you got our message. Did you like the flowers?" He can't respond, every muscle in his body frozen. "You're almost ready," it continues. "It's time. Can't you feel it coming? It's time to open your eyes. To wake up. Wake up, Noe. WAKE UP—"

And all at once it stops. Akutagawa's body slumps back to the ground, his eyes closing. Rashouman fades away back into its normal coat form.

And Chuuya just stands there, staring, hearing the words echo in his head, feeling his stomach sink, trying to slow the hammering of his heart. Mori's words were right; whatever this is… it can't be good.