Lycanthropic Blues

by Bemused Writer

Not long into their partnership, Mori sends Dazai and Chuuya to investigate a small village to find information on stories regarding a "haunting." The reasoning behind the case is suspect and the village proves strange, the case stranger still, and Chuuya and Dazai have no one to rely on-or trust-but each other. Takes place at the end of the Fifteen arc in the anime.

Author's Notes: I'd been debating what my Halloween fic would be this year, but then I remembered I already had a seasonally appropriate story that had been in the works for some time. I fixed it up and here it is! I hope you enjoy. (^^)

Warnings/Notes: Paranormal Mystery, Mild Gore, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions,Underage Drinking, Gen or Pre-Slash, Halloween gift, Port Mafia Era, Character Study

---

Taking care of Rimbaud became surprisingly quick work after the two of them joined forces. It was an encounter that had left him with a lot to consider; he wondered if Rimbaud had known his words would send his thoughts racing. Chuuya supposed he probably didn't seeing as he was dead now, and that likely hadn't been his end goal.

He turned away out of respect, but Dazai was still watching the corpse as if it might reveal something. Chuuya had only known him for a few days but his fascination with death was already apparent; maybe he really did hope to glean something from it.

"Well, that's taken care of," Dazai finally said. He stretched out his back and let out a yawn. His right arm was shaking slightly; Chuuya wondered if it really was injured and how much of a farce the cast was to begin with.

"I suppose you want to head out?" he continued, turning to face him.

"There's nothing more to do here," Chuuya said simply.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Dazai said, some of the now familiar lilt returning to his voice. "You know, I set up a marvelous party for you upstairs before you ruined it with that absurd entrance."

"There's a dead body right here. Doesn't that bother you?" Chuuya snapped, pointing at Rimbaud.

"Does it bother you?" Dazai said curiously. "I don't see the problem."

Of course he didn't. He looked utterly mystified as if Chuuya was the one being strange. There were a lot of things Chuuya could say to that but the truth was that no, the dead body didn't bother him, but you were supposed to act like it did if nothing else. Regardless, he wasn't in the mood for a party. Speaking of…

"What do you mean you set up a party?" Chuuya asked suspiciously. "When would you have had time to do that?"

Dazai waved a hand, brushing the matter aside. "I'm fairly certain you didn't manage to destroy everything even if you were behaving like a brute. Really, you know how to cause a scene and give me a lot more work, don't you?"

"What's this party even for?" Chuuya grit out.

"Hm? Oh! Your newfound freedom." He actually sounded excited about it. Chuuya had no idea why but he suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"Freedom?"

"And a lot more freedom than I'd realized," Dazai mused. "I had no idea you were harboring a god." His eyes narrowed as he took him in from head to toe as if he would be able to peel back the human layer and find the god within.

"Knock it off," Chuuya finally said, his face heating up in anger. "Like I said, there's nothing good about it."

Dazai didn't say anything to that and walked away with a quiet "hm." When he was several paces off he called back, "Come on, there's a lot of food up there and I'd rather it not go to waste. It wasn't easy to get, you know."

"And yet you still haven't said how you got it in the first place," Chuuya muttered but he followed behind him all the same, ignoring the way Dazai all but skipped up the stairs. What was with him? His personality was all over the place. But he supposed he could manage a few more minutes in his company; he wasn't one to turn down good food when it was offered. Life on the streets had taught him how mad that would be.

When they reached the room in question Chuuya had no recollection of it; he'd been far more concerned with knocking Rimbaud out of existence and winning the bet. Now that he took a moment to look around he could see Dazai had probably spent an absurd amount of time setting this up. There were balloons everywhere, some with painted on smiley faces, along with a large table in the center covered in food including two large strawberry cakes, streamers, drinks, and all manner of brightly colored goods.

Chuuya hadn't thought the day could get any more surreal but evidently he'd been wrong.

He had no idea what he was supposed to say about this.

"Well?" Dazai said extending his arms. "Aren't you excited?"

"You did this … for me?" Chuuya said in disbelief.

"That's right." His face was blank, his tone bland, but his eye glittered with mischief.

"Why?" It didn't make any sense at all. They didn't really know each other, they didn't even like one another, and yet here they were celebrating … freedom?

"Because it's something worth celebrating," he said seriously. "Here, have some sake." He shoved a glass into his hand. The liquid jostled slightly before settling. Chuuya stared into its pastel yellow depths before downing it in one go. They were underage but Dazai was mafia and he was a criminal; they'd just killed a man. He supposed underage drinking wasn't something to get excited about. He gulped it in one go.

"Oh, very well done," Dazai said before having a shot himself.

Chuuya took another shot, downing it a little more slowly this time. It was all right he supposed. He wondered where Dazai had managed to get it and then promptly reminded himself how foolish that line of inquiry was; he worked for the Port Mafia. Snagging a bit of sake would be easy.

What now? he wondered. It seemed unlikely he could return to the Sheep. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to after their last confrontation.

You had no family or relatives when the Sheep accepted you!

He knew that. It was part of why he'd stayed for as long as he had even though they had an endless array of demands and never seemed to think much of him in general.

He has the ability to choose for himself how to use his power. Even a kid could figure out that much.

He'd never given that much thought though. He wondered how true that was and how much Dazai actually meant it. Chuuya wasn't a fool; he knew Dazai thought he'd won that bet.

"Say, Chuuya, try some of this cake," Dazai said, jabbing a spoonful of it in his face. It was a rather large spoonful to boot, covered in frosting and a large strawberry half. At some point during his reverie Dazai had gotten significantly closer to him as well, his face mere inches away from his own. Clearly, he didn't have much respect for personal boundaries.

"You've gotten so quiet," Dazai continued, prodding him with it a bit more. "Do you have a low tolerance for alcohol?"

His eye twitched as he snatched it away from him. Dazai was staring at him with something akin to fascination and it was beginning to become disconcerting. Chuuya took a tentative bite.

"Well? What do you think?"

"It's good," he said grudgingly.

"Yes, I thought so," Dazai said musingly. "You seemed like the type who would enjoy strawberries."

He had no idea what that was supposed to mean and promptly decided he didn't want to either.

Dazai promptly shoved another spoonful at him. Bemused, Chuuya took it and wondered where he'd found a second spoon to begin with.

"Aren't you going to have any?" he finally said. He accepted the plate Dazai offered; he didn't really want him to continue in his efforts to feed him. "You've just had one shot of sake and unless you invited more people we aren't going to be able to get through all of this."

"The only other person I invited was Rimbaud and I don't think he'll be joining us," Dazai said with a smirk. "I'll have some of the sashimi; I'm not in the mood for cake."

"You're wasting food," Chuuya sighed.

They ate together in silence for a time and Chuuya allowed himself to drink in the decorations once more. It occurred to him that it was rather … sad. He didn't know much about Dazai and hoped to keep it that way but the fact he put all this together suggested he didn't have anything better to do with his time.

He wants to die, Chuuya thought, glancing at him surreptitiously. But he also thinks it's worth it to try to live. He insists this party is for my freedom but he also made a bet with me where the loser serves the other like a dog.

He didn't add up.

"What are you going to do next?" Chuuya finally said.

"I'll report back to Mori-san of course and continue my work with the Port Mafia. For now, it seems worth it to stay."

"Is that right?"

"What about you? What are you going to do with that freedom of yours? I doubt he'll be the only person seeking Arahabaki."

"I'll take care of that if it occurs," Chuuya said nonchalantly. "They can't all have powers like his."

"And what about the Sheep?" Dazai asked knowingly.

Chuuya shrugged and tried to look casual. "They likely won't trust me now."

"You don't need to submit yourself to others to find a place worth being," he said darkly. He stared unseeing into his glass for a moment before coming to; he promptly put on another false smile. "Of course, you're my dog now, so I suppose you do need to submit yourself to me."

I knew it.

"As if!" Chuuya howled, throwing his remaining slice of cake directly in his face. Dazai didn't even attempt to get out of the way and it slid slowly off his face as Chuuya continued saying, "You did not win that bet, you suicidal maniac!"

Dazai gave a wicked grin and wiped some of the remaining cake off his face. He analyzed it briefly before licking it off.

"Well?" Chuuya demanded.

Dazai merely shrugged and said, "So, are you joining the Port Mafia?"

Was that what this had been about? Dazai wanted him to join the mafia?

"No."

"Hmm." Dazai's singular eye studied him intently. "Then I'll take my leave. You've been an interesting diversion, Chuuya." He lingered on his name as if he were measuring it, considering it, but for what Chuuya couldn't say. "I'll take care of Rimbaud then." He stood, a clear dismissal, and whipped out his phone, presumably to call the mafia's version of a coroner.

It didn't concern him anymore and he'd spent too much time indulging this weirdo's attempt at ... whatever this was. He still wasn't sure but he'd had enough.

"Whatever. Later." He turned on his heel and sped out the door without looking back. Briefly, he wondered what would happen to Rimbaud's body, but that was Dazai's problem now. He had things to do.

---

As it turned out, he wasn't entirely free of Dazai or the Port Mafia. He received an anonymous letter a few days later informing of exactly where the burial site was. It didn't take much work to guess who it was from and things promptly went downhill from there.

He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised that Dazai ended up getting what he wanted in the end. Well, sort of. Chuuya joined the mafia at least but he wasn't Dazai's subordinate, which seemed to grate on him quite a bit. Chuuya knew this for a fact because every time they passed each other in the hallway for the next month he made a point to dash over and tell him as much. On about the eleventh occasion he decided enough was enough; he would get to the bottom of Dazai's issue once and for all no matter how infuriating he was.

"Why do you even care this much?" he demanded. Other members hastily got out of the vicinity; their arguments were becoming notorious at this point. "You already have subordinates; you're an executive. Why do you care so much about whether I'm your dog or not? It was just a stupid bet!"

Dazai stared at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw, his hand raised. He'd been interrupted mid-rant.

"Huh?" he said. It was the first and last time he ever saw him be so ineloquent.

"Why do you care?" Chuuya emphasized.

Dazai frowned petulantly and lowered his fist. His eye glimmered in hallway light. "You were supposed to be mine," he finally said. "And they snatched you away."

"What, are you some kind of child?" Chuuya said irritably. "You said I shouldn't submit myself to others. Why should you be an exception?"

"I suppose I should learn to content myself with what I have," Dazai said, a dark edge creeping into his tone. Chuuya's skin crawled slightly; he hadn't heard such a tone coming from Dazai before. It was empty and raw and there was something almost like anger swimming beneath the surface of his words. Once again, Chuuya had no idea what his issue was.

"Maybe you should. What's so bad about that?" Chuuya said bitingly.

"Yes, what could be wrong with working exclusively with Mori-san?" Dazai said sarcastically.

Chuuya forced himself not to shift uncomfortably. He was beginning to learn some things about the boss that made him … uncomfortable but he'd sworn himself to the man. He wouldn't betray the Port Mafia. But for the first time it occurred to him that Dazai was his protégé; how did that work exactly?

"Has he…?" he started hesitantly.

Dazai's eye narrowed and his entire demeanor became frigid. "Mori-san doesn't tolerate failure well but his interests lie in girls."

If it's a punishment it might not matter where his interests lie, Chuuya thought uneasily. For all the flaws the Sheep had had, this had never been one of them because they'd never allowed adults to begin with. They hadn't trusted adults and this only made their reasoning more poignant.

"I'm fine," Dazai said quietly. "You're over thinking it. It's just the occasional threat of violence. It's to be expected in our business, don't you think?"

"Right," he said awkwardly. "Well, you have subordinates, don't you? You don't need me," he tried again, desperately trying to get their conversation back on track.

"Idiots, all of them. Well, I suppose you are too but at least you're amusing…"

For a brief second Chuuya saw red and he gripped Dazai's collar, intending to sock him one but he stopped when he saw the utter emptiness in his eye. No, he didn't want this conversation to end up like the last ten they'd had. He was trying to figure this out, not get wrapped up in another circular argument.

"Look, you don't have to hound me," Chuuya finally said, reluctantly extending a laurel leaf and releasing him. "We work for the same organization. If you need me for something just … let me know."

Oh, he knew he was going to regret that. He absolutely knew it but…

He didn't pity Dazai exactly—he kind of detested him—but he'd wondered if his tenacity had had some underlying motive outside of wanting a "dog." Maybe he wanted … something else. Chuuya wasn't about to flatter himself by thinking Dazai wanted a friend but he did want company. He may not have stated it outright but Chuuya couldn't find any other way to interpret his behavior.

He supposed he was curious as well. Maybe that's what Dazai was, too. Maybe that's why they kept falling into each other's orbit.

"Is that right?" Dazai said slowly, his eye carefully tracing him, searching for any sign of falsehood. "In that case, I do need something."

"Already?" Chuuya shouted, hackles rising almost immediately on instinct. "I meant sometime in the future!"

"But I don't need you 'sometime in the future;' I need you now. Or is your offer worthless?"

Chuuya was fuming and judging by the growing smirk on Dazai's face he knew it. "Fine," he ground out. "What, exactly, do you want?"

"Nothing serious. Mori-san assigned me a task and I figured you might make for excellent assistance."

"You want me to help you with a mission," Chuuya said flatly. "Why didn't you just start out asking for help?"

"Where's the fun in that? Well? What do you say?"

Frustratingly, there was only one appropriate response. He'd given his word and he would keep it even if it meant he had to spend more time with one of the most unhinged people in the Port Mafia.

"Fine, I'll help. What are we doing?"

---

Chuuya could tell the moment they approached the empty cabin things were about to go to hell in a hand basket. Call it superstitious, but there was nothing promising about the environment whatsoever. He could feel it in the way the hair on his arms raised and the chill of the mountains seeped into his bones. They were in a remote area of Hokkaido covered in dense fog and splotches of snow, a long way from Yokohama.

"Why are we here again?" Chuuya demanded, shivering slightly. He'd brought a coat but this was far colder than he'd been anticipating and he was already sick of the place. The plane ride hadn't been horrible but it hadn't been particularly comfortable either. Dazai had made him pack at the speed of light, insisting it was of the utmost importance (Chuuya doubted that), and had all but dragged him to the airport. He'd then had to spend the duration of the flight listening to him yammer on and on about how he was really worked too hard and the boss had unrealistic expectations. Chuuya was more than finished with listening to Dazai talk but the cabin before them offered very little to go off of and he'd really like to just get on with the mission, so he asked what he knew about it.

"Residents in these parts insist this particular cabin is haunted," Dazai began. "I wanted to see if it was true."

Chuuya wondered if he murdered Dazai here and now, in the middle of nowhere, if anyone could pin the blame on him.

"You booked us two tickets to a cabin in the middle of nowhere to investigate a ghost story? Are you kidding me right now?"

"No, Mori-san booked us two plane tickets to investigate a ghost story in the middle of nowhere," Dazai replied petulantly. "I was supposed to tell you about it a few days ago but…"

"But every time you saw me you were filled with a passionate rage, is that it? I know the feeling. All right, Boss wants us to investigate a ghost story. Why?" He wasn't entirely convinced Dazai wasn't just pulling his leg but he was interested despite himself. They had just taken out the "ghost" of the previous head. Maybe ghosts were a more common theme in the mafia than he'd thought.

Dazai considered his question as they walked into the cabin. It was quite empty, unsurprisingly, and more spacious than he'd expected though by no means large. There was the main room that clearly hadn't seen a duster in some time and an adjacent bedroom with rather moldy-looking blankets on the bed and a tattered curtain.

"I don't know," Dazai finally admitted. "He just said that the people complaining were making an awful ruckus about it and he was curious."

"Okay… It's an ability user of some kind then," Chuuya said.

"Most likely."

"And he couldn't send someone already stationed in Hokkaido?"

"Apparently not," Dazai said dryly. "It's a bit outside Port Mafia territory anyway."

That raised so many questions Chuuya wasn't even sure where to start.

"Is this how he always does things?" Chuuya managed hesitantly. It didn't make sense for the head of the Port Mafia to send them into something with so little intel. Either the boss had some kind of ulterior motive or Dazai wasn't telling him something. It was unnerving how likely both of those scenarios seemed.

"No, well, sort of." At Chuuya's unimpressed glare he continued. "I mean to say that he only delivers information as he sees fit. Normally, he will give us as much as he can, but the whole point of this mission is that its reconnaissance," he said in a tone that suggested Chuuya was a little dim for not figuring that out already. "Perhaps more important still, this is your first mission. Mori-san is curious about you."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that "you" was intended in the plural. So, the boss was curious about his permanent roommate. Not surprising. But reconnaissance wasn't exactly going to give him a whole lot of information on Arahabaki.

"Okay," he replied slowly, trying to sort out the angles of the mission without asking Dazai to spell it out for him. "So, what do we know about this ghost?"

Dazai raised a finger. "Firstly, this creature only comes out at night."

"Of course it does…"

"Secondly, it howls and shrieks like the wind."

"Okay…"

"And thirdly, it only comes out once a month," Dazai finished cheerfully.

Chuuya took a moment to process that before a wave of irritation hit him. "Isn't that a description of a werewolf?" he demanded. "I thought you said this place was haunted!"

"I said the villagers thought it was haunted," Dazai returned petulantly. "You're the one who decided to interpret that as a ghost."

"That's what any sane person would think!" Chuuya shrieked, grabbing him by his collar. Dazai just laughed and raised his hands in surrender.

"Regardless of all that, why don't we take a look around?" he offered. "As interesting as the prospect of your choking me is, now really isn't the time."

Chuuya let go of him with a huff. "Don't make it sound weird."

Dazai led the way about the inside of the cabin and Chuuya was alarmed to see it really was lacking in even the most basic of necessities. They would absolutely have to go into town to get some supplies. He eyed Dazai's slightly shivering form and wondered if he would be forced to go by himself.

He'd also noticed there was only one bed. He was not going to take the couch and he had a feeling Dazai wasn't going to either, which left only one option. Whatever. Chuuya had had to bunker with all kinds of people on the streets; beggars couldn't be choosers. Sharing a bed with Dazai wasn't at the top of his bucket list, but he could think of far worse fates.

Flashes of days without food, near starvation, and bitter cold flooded his mind for a brief moment.

Yes, there were worse fates.

"Chuuya is being awfully quiet," Dazai remarked as they stepped outside. "Is the cold helping you with your temper?"

"Shut up," he mumbled irritably. The outside of the cabin reminded him very much of something straight out of a horror movie and, if he was honest, it did very little to assure him of the legitimacy of this mission. There were a few chopped down trees lying about, their stumps like silent graves, and one of them even had an axe still stuck in it. The scent of pine and that particularly sharp freshness that came with snow was thick in the air. Chuuya's breath froze in the air.

"I don't like this," he finally said.

An owl hooted in the distance.

"Don't be ridiculous," Dazai returned, but Chuuya didn't miss the way his eye scanned their surroundings as if he expected something to jump out at them at any moment. "It's just a cabin; nothing to be concerned about. Anyway, there's a shed that way and an underground root cellar in the back."

The shed was incredibly run down and held nothing but a bucket. Even Dazai looked disappointed. As for the root cellar, the second they opened it they were bombarded by a strong rotting odor.

"Just how long has it been since anyone used this place?" Chuuya groaned as he waved away the stench. "This is disgusting."

"Mm," Dazai forced out as he went down the stairs.

"You're actually going in? Why?"

"Could be something relevant to the case."

Chuuya sincerely doubted that, but if Dazai wanted to look at rotting vegetables, he could go right ahead. He just wished that didn't mean he had to guard the door as he did so. Dazai hadn't told him to guard the door, but, well, they were partners. Chuuya figured that was part and parcel.

Thankfully, Dazai didn't take long to peruse. "Nothing useful," he sighed as Chuuya closed the door with a loud thud. "I didn't expect there would be, but you never know."

"What about supplies then?" Chuuya asked, finally getting to the subject that had really been bothering him.

"What about them?" he returned blandly.

"We're going to need some; we didn't bring enough."

Dazai shrugged. "We brought enough for a few days. This shouldn't take much longer than that; it's just reconnaissance, remember?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Chuuya was swiftly realizing he didn't like reconnaissance that much. When he'd led the Sheep it was all about establishing territory, maintaining that territory, and keeping an ear out for any trouble. This required an entirely different style altogether and he was feeling out of his depths. Not that he could admit that to his partner. Dazai was a difficult individual at the best of times and would no doubt laud it over him for the rest of their stay.

"Let's get our cabin set up, shall we?" Dazai said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Chuuya's heart sank. Oh, he wasn't going to enjoy this one bit.

He turned out to be entirely correct. The duration of their unpacking was filled with Dazai bossing him around with far too much enthusiasm ("Put the food there! Put the blankets here!") before Chuuya finally tossed a pillow in his face.

"You unpack some of this!"

Dazai let out a loud laugh but obliged easily enough. "I just wanted to see how much you'd do before your obedient nature faltered."

"I do not have an obedient nature," Chuuya growled. "You're the one with a god complex."

Dazai tutted at that mockingly, but he at least added the travel pillows and sparse blankets they'd brought to the ones already on the bed.

Chuuya finished unpacking his clothes before settling on the couch. He looked about the desolate environment and said, unthinkingly, "This really doesn't freak you out at all?"

Dazai slouched next to him with a loud sigh of complaint. His bones creaked slightly and Chuuya wondered if this guy was really healthy enough to be sent to such a cold environment.

"Why should it?" Dazai finally answered. "It's just an empty cabin in the middle of the woods that's said to be haunted."

"It's a werewolf, Dazai," he grumbled. "Not a ghost."

"It's an ability user," Dazai corrected. "So you're wrong either way."

Chuuya bit his tongue to prevent himself from no doubt prolonging this very annoying conversation. Still, as he looked outside, the shadows of those trees felt awfully long and the air chill.

"But to answer your question," Dazai finally continued in a quieter tone, "I think Mori-san wants to see if he can recruit this ability user. If you look at it that way, it doesn't seem so strange."

"I suppose so," Chuuya admitted. "But still…"

He'd said earlier the boss was curious about his abilities. Maybe he wanted to see if he could take this other ability user down? But that suggested he knew this individual was powerful.

His brow furrowed. Whoever it was, they were unlikely to be a match for a god.

"It's still a long way from Yokohama and you've never traveled this far. Am I wrong?"

For once, Dazai was wrong. He wasn't worried about being far from home, he was worried about how this mission would turn out. But there was no need to get into that; he wasn't the sort to dwell on things before they even happened.

"When would I have been able to travel?" Chuuya finally mumbled.

"I'm not judging. Well, not for that at least," Dazai gave him a quiet smirk. "I think we should go over what we know one last time to make sure we're on the same page, however."

"Sure." Frankly, Chuuya was surprised to see a slightly more mature, professional streak to his partner finally shining through, but he supposed there had to be some reason the head of the mafia would give him so much power when he was as old as Chuuya himself.

"Tell me, Chuuya, what do you know about wolfmen?"

There was that familiar sparkle of mischief in his singular eye, molten and intense, and for the briefest of moments Chuuya felt entranced. He shook himself out of it immediately to respond with, "If you mean werewolves, the only thing I know is that there are supposed to be different types."

"That's right," Dazai murmured. "There are those who choose to be werewolves and those cursed by it."

"It's an ability user," Chuuya pointed out, the words tasting like ash, "so naturally they've been cursed."

"Or blessed," Dazai returned with a slanted grin. "Regardless, the legends say that they can transfer their curse through their bite if that is the case. If they choose it, they don a wolf pelt to shapeshift into the creature."

"Why are you telling me this?" Chuuya huffed. "It's not going to help us track him down."

"A werewolf is larger than a typical wolf, more dangerous, more lethal…" He leaned forward and rested his hand on Chuuya's stomach. "And it's said they crave human flesh."

"Shove it," Chuuya replied, casually removing his hand, trying to ignore the heat that remained anyway.

"They're also said to have insatiable lust. What unusual creatures!" Dazai's tone was cheerful, but his eye bore into him blankly and Chuuya discovered he had no idea what it was they were actually talking about, but he knew it wasn't werewolves.

He almost asked, but the blank expression on Dazai's face made him hesitate. He still didn't know what made him tick, didn't know whether asking would be crossing a line. Possibly that same line he'd crossed by asking about the boss and his treatment of Dazai earlier.

He tried to tell himself that he didn't care if he crossed any lines with this weirdo, but he couldn't quite convince himself of it. Dazai was an annoying freak, but Chuuya wasn't one to test boundaries without a reason.

The truth of it was that he couldn't help but think of the boss and how Dazai's face had pinched when he declared Mori's interests lied only in girls and what that ultimately meant. He'd lived on the streets a long time, been part of a gang for a substantial portion, too. He knew the kinds of horrors that could happen, and the way it could mess someone up.

But he'd just told himself he wouldn't care about Dazai or his circumstances. It wasn't his business. And yet…

"If that's the case," Chuuya said, his mouth feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, "then I'll stop it."

Dazai raised a brow. "Stop it?"

"If this ability user tries to harm us, I'll stop it." Chuuya shrugged. "I'm strong enough to do so."

"I suppose that's true," Dazai admitted, his eye trailing up and down his figure. "Brawn is what you're here for after all."

"Shut up," Chuuya growled with a pointed kick to Dazai's shin. He didn't miss the wince Dazai wasn't quite able to hide. "Look, outside of fables, do you know anything actually useful about our target?"

Whether Dazai had heard the insinuation in his words or not was impossible to tell. Perhaps it was better if he didn't.

Dazai sighed in irritation. "Just that it visits the village nearby, has killed some livestock, and has made a general nuisance of itself. As usual, I'm sure the stories about it are wildly exaggerated. The only reason we're here instead of over there is because of how small the village in question is; there isn't even a hotel."

"In this day and age? Hard to imagine."

"Still true," Dazai shrugged. "If you want, you can take a look, but our quarry won't be out in the open until night, so you may as well conserve your energy."

Chuuya considered that, whipped out his phone, and frowned when it became apparent they were too far out to receive service. Well, that was truly irritating—he liked to have that connection to society—but he could make the most of it.

Putting his phone away, he turned to his bag stashed by the front door and shuffled through it until he found the object he was looking for. He could feel Dazai's eye following him the whole way, taking every movement in.

When he turned back toward him he didn't miss the look of surprise that briefly crossed his features.

"An e-reader?"

"What about it?" Chuuya demanded. "I'm not allowed to enjoy books?"

"It's not that." Dazai still looked a bit confused, not that most people would have been able to tell. It was the subtlest of scrunches about his brow that gave him away. "I just figured you were too dim to enjoy them." He said it teasingly, but Chuuya immediately hunched over in rage.

"Look, I know you're some sort of self-described genius—"

"Because I am," Dazai intoned.

"—but that doesn't mean the rest of us can't enjoy intellectual hobbies!"

"What are you reading?" Dazai demanded, his eye intent upon him. "Manga?"

"And so what if I was?" Chuuya said, deflating slightly. What was this guy's problem?

"But you aren't," Dazai pointed out. "You just want me to be quiet."

"Hardly surprising, I'd say."

"Then what are you reading?"

"Oh, for crying—just take a look if you're so interested." He thrust the device in Dazai's hand, wincing as he fumbled with it in surprise. Thankfully, he didn't drop it on the floor, but he did stare at it as if he'd never seen one before in his life.

Now that he had it in his hands though, he began hitting buttons and looking through all the titles without an ounce of shame.

"Poetry? And not just a little… This is… quite a bit of poetry," he murmured. "Some of it's even in French. When did you learn French?" The utter bafflement in his voice brought a smug sense of triumph, Chuuya couldn't deny it.

"We live around the docks," he responded glibly. "It's not so difficult to pick up."

The truth was that he'd taken an online class and had actually spent an absurd amount of time practicing and engrossing himself as much as humanly possible in French culture when he couldn't simply take a trip to France, but that was far more information than Dazai needed.

"Speak it," Dazai demanded.

It was such an unexpected request Chuuya could only stare and say, "Huh?"

"I want to hear you speak French," he repeated, a touch petulantly this time.

"Pourquoi j'te parlerais en français, hein?" he demanded.

The wide-eyed intrigue Dazai gave him sent a shiver of … something down Chuuya's spine. Whatever it was wasn't wholly unpleasant.

"Your accent is very good," Dazai acknowledged grudgingly.

Chuuya eyed him suspiciously. "How would you know one way or another?"

"Genius, remember?" Dazai teased. Then, "Mori-san believes in a well-rounded education."

"Oh…" So much for one-upping him, then.

"Don't be so petulant," Dazai sighed. "If it makes you feel better, your French is better than mine."

Much as he hated to admit it, that did make him feel better.

"We'll need to make sure you're familiar with English and Russian as well," Dazai murmured. "Mandarin Chinese, too."

"I didn't ask for a lesson plan," Chuuya growled, snatching the tablet away from him. "And I know some English."

"Oh? That will speed things up. Let's practice."

"I don't want to practice, I want to read."

"You're on a mission, Chuuya. May as well focus up."

Dazai had made a good point and, truly, he hated that. Still, they may as well make the most of this lull and Chuuya had to admit it was better than wondering whether or not this ability user was going to match up with those absurd legends Dazai had spouted at him.

"Fine," he acknowledged and took a seat next to him on the couch once more.

The next two hours were spent with Dazai criticizing his accent, his grammar, and everything else he could think of. There were several moments where Chuuya sincerely considered chucking Dazai through a window. He could manage it, ability or not.

And judging by the gleeful grin Dazai was wearing, he knew exactly where Chuuya's thoughts were and, furthermore, he knew he wasn't actually going to do it. How he could be maddening without even saying anything was beyond Chuuya but it was swiftly becoming his least favorite of Dazai's skills.

"Well, that's enough of that," Dazai said with a stretch, finally speaking Japanese once more. "I suppose you're not totally hopeless."

Chuuya gave him a few choice words in English to tell him what he thought about that. Unexpectedly, Dazai let out a sincere laugh, full and light and nothing like what Chuuya would have expected.

He wouldn't mind hearing more of that as opposed to the crap the guy usually spewed.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to take a nap. We might be up all night," Dazai continued. He stood and moved to the bedroom without a glance behind him. "You might want to do the same."

Without a word, Chuuya trod after him. He didn't miss the way Dazai glanced at him, but for once he kept his peace. Chuuya fully expected him to tease him for sharing the bed or act scandalized or any one of his other annoying tendencies, but for once he actually acted like a mature individual and just got in next to him and laid on his side without a single word. It was so unlike Dazai that for a moment Chuuya wondered if he should make sure things were okay.

He promptly berated himself for even considering it. Why shouldn't they be okay? Why should he even care?

Still, neither of them got under the covers as if that would somehow make things more intimate than sharing a bed. Chuuya stared up at the ceiling and tried to ignore the suspiciously silent lump at his side.

It was proving difficult, especially when he could tell Dazai was lying as stiff as a board.

"I'm not going to try anything," Chuuya finally announced gruffly feeling awkward and like he needed to apologize for something, though he had no idea what.

"I know that," Dazai replied, his voice muffled, but there was no mistaking the irritation. Dazai didn't say anything further, but Chuuya could practically feel his desire to spew further insults at him.

"Well, good," Chuuya mumbled. He forced himself to close his eyes. It was difficult when the sun was still out, but Dazai was correct; their entire mission would happen at night and he couldn't afford to be anything less than perfectly alert. He just wished this were marginally less awkward than it was.

He resorted to an old method he used to use back when he had to sleep on the streets. He envisioned a clear road before him, no one was in sight, and then he slowly imagined it shift from day to night, from clear skies to darkened clouds hanging overhead. Then he imagined the sound of rain, steady and relentless, the beginnings of a storm.

Even though rain had been a real misery when he'd slept in it, there was also no denying the electric pulse of life that always flowed through him whenever thunder crashed and lightning struck. It eased some feral part of his mind he couldn't quite explain and despite the physical discomfort he felt more in control in those moments than he did during any other part of his life.

He kept the visual going as long as he could until he was almost convinced it was raining outside. He could feel the coolness of it against his skin and he finally drifted, slowly and steadily, into slumber.

When he finally came to it was to startling warmth, a sharp contrast to his vision of rain before the Sandman had taken over.

The warmth was accompanied by a solid weight resting atop him. Blearily, he opened his eyes only to find that the warmth in question was Dazai's body wrapped tightly about his own, his head resting on Chuuya's shoulder, his hand directly over his heart. He couldn't make out his expression; his bandaged side was facing up. The whole thing was… unexpected, to say the least. Chuuya brushed some stray hairs away from his mouth and nose and wondered how to get out from under him without waking him up. He honestly wasn't sure who it would be more embarrassing for, him or Dazai.

He suspected it would be Dazai who was always so high strung, always so in control. He'd probably find some way of making Chuuya's life miserable just because he'd been the one to let his guard down and fall asleep atop him. Not exactly Chuuya's fault, though.

The sun was just setting and everything was awash in oranges and reds. Chuuya took a deep breath; the snow on the ground was reflecting the light and making everything seem even brighter than it was. That poetic part of his soul that he kept hidden from others couldn't help but find it beautiful and he silently began composing a poem in commemoration of it.

"Chuuya's heart is beating so quickly," Dazai murmured suddenly, breaking his reverie. It took every ounce of his willpower not to leap out of the bed, but he couldn't quite stop himself from stiffening under him. "At first I thought it was because he was nervous," Dazai continued undeterred, "but you were sleeping, so that was impossible."

"If you're awake, why are you still using me as a pillow?" Chuuya ground out.

Silence. Then, "You're a surprisingly comfortable pillow." He pressed his palm more firmly to his chest. "And your heart is still racing."

"I don't have a heart condition," Chuuya finally relented. If Dazai wanted to be weird, more power to him. Chuuya would not rise to the bait. Well, not this time anyway; he was surprisingly comfortable himself.

"No?" Dazai murmured. Chuuya couldn't tell what tone of voice that was. "I wonder if it's related to your other condition then."

They both knew which "condition" he was talking about: Arahabaki. The fact Chuuya wasn't wholly human. Ironic, considering who he was speaking with.

"I don't know, maybe. It's always been like this."

"We should find some way of slowing it down," Dazai continued, as if he hadn't said anything. "It can't be good for your lifespan."

At that, Chuuya finally did shove him off. Dazai let out a quiet sound of distress, but didn't fight him on it.

"Look, we have a few days before the full moon, so let's just get to town now that we're both up."

Dazai stared at him listlessly before giving a reluctant nod. Chuuya honestly had no idea what was going through his head right now, but he'd be a fool not to connect a few very obvious dots: Arahabaki, his heartbeat, lifespan, Dazai's own wish for death…

Perhaps he was jealous. Chuuya didn't think that was it, though. Somehow, he'd spooked himself into thinking Chuuya would die before him. Maybe that was something he actually cared about in spite of how he held himself above it all.

The mystery that was Dazai Osamu kept on growing.

Chuuya went to the living room to get bundled up before heading out. He noted out of the corner of his eye that Dazai had followed suit. He wore even more layers than Chuuya did.

Guess the cold really does bother someone like him, Chuuya thought. Between the two of them, he was pretty sure he knew who needed to get in better shape and it definitely wasn't him.

Dazai finally spoke up, petulantly, "It will be dark soon,"

"Are you still tired?"

"…No," he admitted reluctantly. "Very well, let's take a look."

---

The village was absolutely tiny to the point Chuuya wondered whether it should even qualify as one. It was amounted to several houses lined along a dirt road with a grocer's near the center and a bar and restaurant near that while in the distance he could make out a variety of farms. He supposed that brought the total up a bit, but this place wasn't exactly booming.

"How have they managed to avoid civilization this long?" Chuuya asked in bewilderment.

Dazai shrugged as he took their surroundings in with a blank expression. "It seems peaceful, don't you think?"

"Sure, until some catastrophe comes and there's no doctor. Not so peaceful then."

Dazai gave him a weary glance. "You're very pessimistic."

"Yeah, well…" He kicked at a nearby pebble awkwardly. "Just experience."

"Doesn't suit you," Dazai groaned. "You should be more of the airheaded ditzy type. Carefree, untroubled; leave the thinking to me."

That earned Dazai a swift kick to his rear that sent him spiraling gracelessly to the ground. "I don't know what your problem is," Chuuya snarled, "but I'm not actually your dog and I'm not going to just 'leave things to you.' We'd probably both wind up dead in a ditch if I did that."

Dazai rubbed at his hip with a wince. "So violent."

"And whose fault is that?!"

"Is everything all right there, boys?"

Chuuya flushed as he realized they'd managed to get the attention of, well, several passersby, which meant the majority of the village. The woman approaching them was wizened and bore a calm, grandmotherly smile.

"Quite all right!" Dazai announced, his fake cheer promptly restored as he hopped back to his feet. Chuuya didn't miss the way he stumbled ever so slightly as he did so. Must have left a bruise.

He couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it even remotely, however. Who does he think he is to talk to people like that?

How could one person be, at times, an excellent partner while at others a complete blockhead? Purposefully obscene?

"And what brought the two of you here?" she asked. "We haven't seen newcomers in some time."

"Why, you all invited us, I believe," Dazai continued smoothly. She studied him for a moment before letting out a quiet "ah."

"You're the ability users that said they'd take a look at our problem," she said with a nod. "I didn't realize you'd be mere boys."

Chuuya bit back a retort while Dazai just continued to smile magnanimously. Yes, they were young. They were also more capable than literally everyone here.

"Why don't I show the two of you to our humble café and get some food in you? We can fill you in on the details there; it's where everyone goes for the local news."

It was like they'd traveled back in time several decades as they stepped into the establishment. It was humble yet elegant and an equally old man stood behind the counter prepping drinks and food. He had his work cut out for him as the whole room was crammed with what Chuuya could only assume was the majority of the populace.

"Oh, hello there," the man said with a nod. "I see you've met my wife, Konori Akiko. I'm Tsutsushi Maharu."

"Pleased to meet you, Tsutsushi-san," Dazai returned with a bow as if he were some kind of proper, decent individual. Chuuya scowled at him as he followed suit with a bow of his own.

"My name is Dazai Osamu and this is my partner, Nakahara Chuuya."

"Dazai-san, Nakahara-san," he said with a nod. "Rather young, aren't you?"

"I said the same thing, dear," Akiko chuckled.

"Ah, right then… Take a seat and I'll get you some lunch."

The lunch in question was absolutely delicious and surprisingly Western consisting of a burger, fries, and some soda. Dazai stared at it with something akin to disgust, not that their hosts noticed. He picked at the fries, but otherwise left it alone.

Chuuya nudged him with his knee when they weren't looking. "Eat some of it," he hissed.

"I don't want to," he returned petulantly. "I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten all day; of course you're hungry."

"But I'm no—"

"Eat it or I'm shoving it down your throat," Chuuya warned. "I will not have you pass out because of lack of nutrition or some other preposterously stupid suicide method."

Dazai grumbled a bit, but he finally took a bite with a glower tossed his way. Chuuya ignored it; he'd won this particular battle and he would not let Dazai's pouting tarnish that. He took a long sip of his soda.

"So, the two of you are going to help us with our werewolf problem," Maharu stated after he'd finished up a few other orders. Akiko was washing dishes in the back, but Chuuya had the strong impression she was listening in.

"That's right," Dazai said after he'd finished chewing a fry. "Our boss is very interested in the creature."

"Well, I don't know if he's going to be all that pleased with your report," Maharu sighed. "Frankly, I'm convinced it's just a regular wolf causing trouble at the farms."

"It is not a regular wolf," Akiko piped up from the back. "Everyone has described it as absolutely enormous. Just the other day Sora-kun said he saw it at night and would have shot it right then and there if it weren't for the most peculiar sensation it instilled in him."

"Sora-kun's been having one drink too many," Maharu said dryly. "That boy didn't even see a wolf; it was probably his imagination."

"Those chickens weren't eaten by an imaginary wolf," she pointed out.

"Hold on," Chuuya finally interrupted. "People have definitely seen this thing?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah."

"Well, what does it look like?" Chuuya demanded impatiently.

"Like a wolf," Maharu said blankly. "What else?"

Dazai snickered softly into his cup. Chuuya bit into a fry irritably. "Yeah, but some people are saying it's huge. Have they said anything else about it?"

Maharu rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You two really came all the way out here for some urban legend?"

"Absolutely," Dazai beamed. "So please tell us all the crackpot stories you can."

"I'd like to meet this 'Sora-kun' as well," Chuuya added after he'd finished taking a gulp. "How many of you have actually seen this thing?"

"Just the farmers so far, but Sora-kun is the most adamant about it," Maharu sighed. "I can give you directions to his place if you like."

"Yes, please."

"Now regale us with some stories," Dazai demanded.

"It's just the typical nonsense," he sighed. "It has eyes that gleam with malice, shaggy dark fur, utterly enormous, and savage. Sora-kun said it filled him with the utmost terror just by looking at it."

"Is that all?"

"It's all I've heard. You boys really care about it that much? It's just a legend. There are legends like this all across Japan."

Akiko eyed her husband shrewdly before returning to the dishes.

"Hm, none quite like this," Dazai said with a smirk. "Thank you for the meal. Chuuya, let's go."

"Wait," he interrupted as Dazai hopped off the stool. "Konori-san, you seem to think there's something to this. Have you seen anything?"

For the briefest moment, an odd expression passed over her, hard and angry and utterly foreign, and then it was gone, with nothing but her cheerful, grandmotherly persona in its place. It was like he'd just witnessed some kind of shape shifter.

"I'm sure I'm being silly; it's just a legend."

"But there was an attack on one of the farms," Chuuya pressed uneasily.

"Yes, dear," she said with a sigh. "That much is true. But you know my husband might be right. There's no need to come all the way out here for something like that."

He shivered, unable to suppress the reaction. "Right, well…"

"We'll be on our way," Dazai interrupted, all cheer and good will. "Thank you for humoring us."

Despite wanting to immediately jump into it, Chuuya waited until they'd wandered out of the village proper and were surrounded by nothing but fields to voice his suspicions. "Okay, tell me you thought that was weird, too. That was—" he struggled to find the right words. Technically, they hadn't done anything suspicious whatsoever, but there was just something about that whole interaction that had been off.

"Gave you the heebie-jeebies?" Dazai asked contemplatively. "I agree. Tsutsushi-san seemed stubbornly determined nothing was going on despite his wife's insistence some livestock had been attacked."

"Konori-san herself was… moody."

"Mm, I agree. I wonder why neither of them mentioned the deaths that brought us here in the first place."

A few beats of silence. "What deaths?" he demanded. "You said Boss just wanted some reconnaissance done because he was interested."

"And he's interested because of the deaths! Oh, perhaps I forget to mention that."

Chuuya gritted his teeth in frustration. "No kidding. What deaths?"

"There have been four in the last four months," Dazai continued. "Rather a lot for such a small town, don't you think?"

"Fits in with werewolf lore, too," Chuuya mumbled. "One death a month, coinciding with the full moon, right?" At Dazai's nod, he continued. "Why didn't either of them say anything then?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Dazai admitted. "But pressing them in front of all those people wouldn't have been wise, especially when we're trying to remain inconspicuous."

"Dazai," Chuuya said slowly, "there's a lot more to this than you're telling me, isn't there?"

Dazai gave a melodramatic sigh. "Mori-san wants to know how you manage pressure," he finally said with a wave of his hand. "He doesn't want me to give you all the details. Do you understand now?"

"You mean this whole mission is a test?" Chuuya exclaimed, flummoxed. "But… why are you telling me?"

"Because I think it's an absurd test," Dazai muttered scathingly. "You were plenty stressed with Rimbaud. Why wouldn't you be able to handle something as simple as a backwater village in the middle of nowhere?"

The way Dazai's eye stared out into the distance with cold fury sent a shudder down Chuuya's spine. There was something personal to that rage; he wasn't just offended on Chuuya's behalf.

"Dazai," Chuuya finally managed. "Is there actually an ability user here or is the whole thing a setup?"

"I don't know," Dazai huffed. "Mori-san didn't see fit to tell me."

Fantastic. The mission was a ploy from the boss to see how Chuuya handled things, but there was no telling which parts of the mission. "Did four people actually die?" Chuuya murmured.

"As far as I can tell, yes."

"And the people in there… they work for the boss?"

Dazai hesitated a fraction before admitting, "I'm not sure."

"Kind of thought you'd know a bit more about this," Chuuya continued, "especially since you knew it was a test for me."

"It might not just be for you," Dazai muttered irritably. "Regardless, we still have to investigate and we still have to come back with a report and we still have to obscure the fact we knew more than he wanted us to know."

"I don't think I enjoy these kinds of games," Chuuya admitted.

"Then be very glad you're under the direct command of Kouyou-san, hm?"

There wasn't anything else he could say about that; Dazai's expression was shuttered and any further prodding would undoubtedly get him nowhere. Chuuya was starting to become familiar with this expression. Once again he wondered what kind of teacher Mori actually was and he wondered if it explained any of the blankness that would so suddenly descend upon him at unforeseen opportunities.

They continued their trudge out to the farms. Chuuya felt far too exposed.

His ability meant that even if someone was watching them, he would easily be able to handle the situation, but that did nothing to ease the tension building around his shoulders. If this was a test from Mori, then he probably shouldn't kill the threat; it would be a loss to the Port Mafia. But if the danger was real, he had to incapacitate it.

But more than that, he hated how everything was a little too calculatedly wholesome, a little too perfect.

He found himself hoping that Mori actually had prepared most of this because otherwise he didn't know whether this feeling of dread was leading to something, was him getting worked up over those silly stories Dazai had told him, or genuine frustration that he'd been sent out here for no real reason.

He supposed a potent mix of all those reasons would be more than enough to make most people feel a little batty.

But he was also worried about Dazai, loath though he was to admit it. His emotions had been all over the place during this mission. He'd been blank, conniving, mischievous, subdued, and Chuuya didn't know what was prompting most of it. What he did know was that there was a thread of anger running through Dazai that was poker-hot and he suspected it had something to do with Mori and something to do with Chuuya.

You were supposed to be mine.

Chuuya shuddered to himself. What kind of person could say that with such conviction? Without a hint of shame? As if Chuuya was a thing he could own.

He usually took Dazai's jabs as just that: jabs. The comments about him being a dog were Dazai's sick attempt at teasing him.

But that sentiment (You were supposed to be mine) had been all too real and he could admit it worried him. Chuuya belonged to no one but himself; hopefully Dazai would get that through his head sooner rather than later.

It didn't take long to find Sora thankfully. He was one of the first farms down the road just like they'd been told. He was in the barn, flinging hay about, and didn't even hear their approach until Dazai gave a quiet cough.

He turned immediately with wild eyes, his pitchfork held at the ready as if he stood a ghost of a chance against either of them with it.

Dazai gave him a pitying look. Chuuya considered manipulating the gravity of the thing and just flinging it to the side, but they were trying to get answers and he had a strong suspicion that this was the type of person who would start shouting about devils if he pulled something like that.

Reluctantly, he raised his hands in the universal sign for surrender. Dazai gave him a considering once over before turning his gaze back to Sora.

"Sora-san, isn't it? You may have heard that we were sent to investigate the matter of a wolf in this town."

His eyes widened astronomically before he hesitantly lowered the pitchfork. "So, you two are from the Port Mafia."

"That's correct," Dazai replied pleasantly. "There's no need for alarm."

"What's the world coming to where the mafia visiting isn't cause for alarm?" he muttered, but he set the pitchfork aside all the same.

Privately, Chuuya agreed with him. They were supposed to be inspiring fear, not fulfilling small time missions in the countryside.

"Tsutsushi-san told us you are one of the few people here to see this wolf?" Dazai nudged. He had a pen and notebook prepared. Chuuya gave him a disbelieving look. What were they, detectives now? Was all this really necessary?

"Yeah, I saw it," he grumbled, but he looked spooked; his eyes kept darting back and forth as if the creature might appear at any given moment. It was testing Chuuya's already fried nerves.

Get a hold of yourself; this is just some paranoid farmer. You're supposed to be better than this.

"Supposed to be" being the key words there. Chuuya very much wanted to return to their cabin right about now.

"And how would you describe it?" Dazai questioned earnestly.

"Look, if you really care about this, the first thing you need to understand is that it isn't a wolf," Sora whispered fiercely. "That's just what everyone's calling it so tourists like you don't freak out."

"You get a lot of tourists around here?" Dazai asked blandly.

The man glared but continued, "It's a monster, do you understand? It's barely even present, physically speaking."

At that Dazai finally looked genuinely interested. "Oh?"

"It's like… a shadow of a wolf," the man continued nervously. "It's enormous, an enormous void where there should be something but instead it's just… the absence of everything, you know? It's like it's fear itself and there isn't room for anything more."

He shuddered visibly. Dazai gave a contemplative hum as he jotted down a few notes.

"But this void, it's still killing cattle, isn't it? Eating them?"

The man snorted. "It's not just killing them, it's decimating them. My chickens are nothing more than bloodstains on the ground and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Show us," Chuuya demanded. If this man was telling the truth, he may actually be in grave danger. Alternatively, if this ability user was that powerful it could just messing with this man's mind. But for what purpose? Its own sick amusement?

"All right, I mean, I tried to clean up a bit, but…" He gestured for them to follow him to the pens. Chuuya's eyes widened at the carnage and even Dazai took a sharp inhale.

This was… not what Chuuya was expecting to see. There was blood everywhere. The remaining chickens and cows were huddled to the side of the pen, looking decidedly uncomfortable and no wonder.

"I'm sorry, you said these used to be chickens?" Dazai asked, sounding a touch uncertain.

The man nodded dismally.

"This is the cleaned up version?" Chuuya gaped around him. It was filthy!

The man nodded once more.

"That really is… something," Dazai summed up. "Did you get any impression of what it might be after?"

"All I got from that thing was hate. It hates my livestock and it hates me." He stared out into the field with a haunted look. "But there's nowhere for me to go. You can understand the dilemma."

"We're beginning to, yes. Chuuya and I are going to take a look around if we have your leave."

"Do whatever you want. Won't change a thing."

On that dreary note, he left them alone in the pens with several frightened animals.

"Dazai," Chuuya began. "Does this make sense to you?"

He was currently crouched before one of the massive bloodstains and seemed suspiciously close to poking it. "Not really," he admitted casually.

"Would this really be part of the test? I mean, the entire setup seems more like some paranormal case than something an ability user would do."

"It does," Dazai agreed readily, which only put him more on edge.

"So what does it mean?" he demanded, finally moving to get a better look at the carnage. Oh, but it reeked. He put a hand over his nose.

Dazai stood with a grunt of pain. "Most likely that Mori-san is in an especially bad mood."

"No, no that doesn't work for me," Chuuya exclaimed, waving his hand. "This is something way weirder than Boss messing with our minds."

"You sound so sure," he replied dryly. "You mean to tell me you believe it really is a void of hate in the shape of a wolf?"

"You know that's not what I mean." Oh, but he was maddening. "What I'm saying is that whatever test Boss put in place for us, this can't be it. You said he wanted us to recruit an ability user, but whoever this is either doesn't have control over their abilities or takes pleasure in tormenting others just for the sake of it. That's not someone you can easily control."

"Very astute," Dazai acknowledged, almost sounding impressed. "To be honest," his tone was pained, "I don't understand this."

That, more than anything else they'd encountered, filled him with fear.

"There's something else that's bothering me," Dazai continued as he scanned their environment. "He said he cleaned this area, but the scent of blood is thick and the stains have been left where they are. It's difficult to remove blood, but not impossible, especially when it's landed on dirt and hay. Why leave it here?" he murmured to himself.

"And why keep the animals in a place that fills them with so much fear," Chuuya deadpanned. "Seems unnecessarily cruel."

"Agreed," Dazai sighed. He gave him a pointed look; they were both thinking the same thing: Sora was the most suspicious person here. "Still," he continued lightly, "we may as well continue our investigation. We can't return with nothing."

"Right…"

Their investigation didn't garner any further results outside of an increased appreciation for how violent this thing was. Privately, Chuuya suspected the rest of this man's livestock would perish if they didn't put a stop to things with the upcoming full moon. But if it was Sora who was doing this… Well, that was a stupid thing to do to oneself. Maybe he really didn't have control over his ability.

They wandered about to a few of the other farmsteads, but it was growing dark swiftly now, so they kept it to a cursory investigation that may or may not have involved asking for permission. While several of the farms had fewer animals than they probably ought to have had, there wasn't any overt carnage like there had been at Sora's. Perhaps they'd done a better job at cleaning.

They returned to their cabin in the dead of night. Dazai was shivering uncontrollably at the chill and hastened inside with all speed once they reached the doorstep. Chuuya was impressed; he hadn't thought him capable of moving so quickly.

Once they were settled, Dazai launched into it immediately. "So, Sora-san, then."

"Mm, seems the most likely," Chuuya agreed as he sprawled across the couch. Dazai was hunched in front of the now crackling fireplace, which Chuuya had prepared before leaving.

"He doesn't fit perfectly, though," Dazai sighed. "I can't find a motive. His farm is just the most suspicious looking."

"Who cares? If it's him, it's him, motive or no."

"That won't be enough for Mori-san," Dazai grumbled. "I give thorough reports. We need evidence."

"We're the Port Mafia, not the Public Security Intelligence Agency," he pointed out. "We get things done; we don't need to build a case around it."

"We still need to get the right person." He sounded faintly amused. "And while Sora-san is the most likely right now, it could easily be any of the villagers."

"Might not be any of them," Chuuya pointed out blandly. "Maybe it's some city dweller with a grudge against country bumpkins."

Dazai snorted at that and turned to face him with a mischievous grin. "Chuuya, that's stereotyping."

"Oh, please…" He tossed one of the couch's pillows in his face. Dazai just laughed some more.

There were still several days until the next full moon and they spent the remainder of them speaking with various villagers and slowly piecing together what more they could. It was frustratingly little. Most people didn't want to talk about it whatsoever and those who did insisted it was just a really big wolf. The only person that was truly adamant it was something supernatural was Sora himself and everyone else dismissed him as being quick to jump to conclusions, probably thanks to stress.

"Are you starting to feel like the only person who's honest in this place is the one person we thought would make a good suspect?" Chuuya asked glumly after another long session of interviews.

They'd wound up at the restaurant again. Chuuya had just finished his meal. Meanwhile, Dazai hadn't even begun his and was instead slumped over on the table. He let out a loud groan before forcing himself to look up at Chuuya.

"It's not Sora-san," Dazai determined, his tone frustrated. "He is the only honest person in this place. He might be the only person who isn't in on this being a massive setup by the mafia."

Chuuya snagged one of his fries; he'd given up on making Dazai eat. It was too much of a pain.

He gave a quiet tsk at the action, but didn't stop him.

"So, our new suspect is… the whole town besides Sora," Chuuya stated blandly, eyeing another fry. "We've really narrowed it down."

"Shut up. This whole thing is preposterous."

Oh, he was properly sulking now. Maybe the cold's finally gotten to him, Chuuya considered. It seemed that no matter how bundled up Dazai got, he was always cold. Or perhaps Boss is hanging over him even now.

"Well, tomorrow is the full moon," Chuuya pointed out. "Whatever or whoever it is, we'll resolve it and then we can go home. Simple."

"You really think it will be that simple?" Dazai asked bitingly. "You think Mori-san will be content with us coming back with nothing?"

Chuuya rolled his eyes. "We wouldn't be coming back with nothing. If we put a stop to this thing, we learn what it is, and we ask if it wants to join. Easy."

"As if," Dazai muttered.

It wasn't worth pursuing the matter. Whatever Dazai might think, the matter would be resolved after tomorrow night because Chuuya wasn't staying here for another month to wait for another full moon.

"How are things progressing, boys?"

Chuuya jerked slightly. It was Akiko, but her approach had been utterly silent. She was holding a pitcher full of coffee and lifted it querying.

"Um, sure," Chuuya allowed, holding up his mug for a refill. Dazai was staring up at her dismally.

"It's going poorly," Dazai finally said. "I'm starting to think the whole thing is a sham."

"Is that right? I suppose my husband was right after all."

"I suppose so. But tell me, if it were something, what would you do?"

She blinked with wide eyes. "Me? I don't know. We've lived here for so long."

"It's hard to find this place on any maps," Dazai continued as if he hadn't heard her. "There's barely any written history about this place. Would you move?" His eye narrowed. "Could you?"

"Dazai?" Chuuya asked uneasily. He paid him no mind, just kept staring up at Akiko.

She met his eye unwaveringly before allowing a tittering laugh. "I don't think we'd want to leave. We've always been here."

"I thought so."

"Good luck with the rest of your investigation. Unless you're leaving soon?"

"Probably," Dazai replied grumpily. "No offense, but there isn't much to see here."

"You city boys never do appreciate the quiet of the countryside. It was nice having you here for a couple of days though. I've missed the sound of the youth. But what about you?" She turned toward Chuuya. "You seemed to enjoy your stay more than your friend here."

That was a laugh, but Chuuya offered a strained grin in response. "I guess a break from the usual isn't a bad thing."

"Is there a lot of stress in your life?" Her tone was mild, but here eyes were fixed directly on him.

"The same as anyone else's."

Dazai was watching them like a hawk.

"Do you feel like you could just let things go?"

Chuuya blinked. "Eh?"

"Like you can be yourself more fully? A lot of people feel that way about the countryside."

"Um, I guess?" What the hell?

"Good. Embrace that feeling before you leave. It might do you a world of good."

With that she wandered off to the next customer and made similar small talk. Chuuya raised a brow at him, but Dazai simply shook his head. "We should go," he said with a surreptitious glance at Akiko. "I've finished eating."

"You barely touched any of that," Chuuya grumbled, but he stood up with him and followed him on his way out. And then proceeded to follow him all the way out of the village because Dazai wasn't saying anything and he wanted some answers.

When they neared the cabin his patience was at an end. "Well?" he demanded. "What are you thinking?"

"That was very pointed," Dazai said suddenly. "This is about you."

It took a second for Chuuya to catch up to what he was talking about. "You mean Konori-san?"

He nodded. "She was subtle about it at first; she spoke to both of us equally. But this time she prodded you specifically."

It clicked. "So, this just confirms it's a test for me."

"Exactly. A test wherein Mori-san wants you relaxed."

"No offense, but this has got to be one of the least relaxing things I've ever done."

"Mori-san has never had a good estimate on normal human emotion," he replied distantly. "I suppose to him being away from it all with something interesting to ponder would be relaxing."

"We're looking into a murder," Chuuya pointed out dryly.

"That's what I said. Interesting."

Maybe the boss wasn't the only one with a weird idea of a good time.

"What's the boss want me relaxed for, anyway?" he sighed.

"Hmm, he must think that will get better results, which means I was wrong before. He's not interested in how you handle pressure. He's trying to see what you're like without it. Of course, you're not relaxed, so the results will be skewed." At that, Dazai looked profoundly annoyed. "And it's going to be my fault. Chuuya." He glared at him. "Calm down right now."

"You've got to be kidding m—"

"Now. Think of something nice."

Chuuya took a deep breath and reminded himself he was working for the Port Mafia now and if the boss wanted him relaxed, the least he could do was try. Of course, it wasn't the boss asking directly, it was Dazai, and that rankled a lot more.

Several seconds ticked by before Dazai finally demanded, "Well? Anything?"

"I'm standing outside in the freezing cold, away from home, with a suicidal maniac staring at me while we try to find a werewolf. What do you think?"

Dazai growled in frustration and proceeded to pace. "These conditions aren't ideal," he mumbled to himself. "What's even supposed to happen when you relax? The only thing Mori-san could be interested in is that thing inside you. Perhaps he's trying to activate it? But that would be foolhardy; we don't know how powerful it is. Of course, I'm here; he's betting I can turn it off. But is this an ability or is this just a god? If it's just a god I can't do a single thing about it…"

"Dazai," Chuuya interrupted. "You don't know for sure that's what he wants."

His only response was a glare. Yeah, it probably was what the boss wanted, but he was sick of hearing Dazai's mutterings.

"Look, Arahabaki has never once activated when I'm relaxed. Okay? So even if those are the conditions Boss wanted, they're not the right ones. If anything, this is probably better."

"You know how to activate it?" Dazai asked accusingly.

"Sort of? I don't want to. You saw the results back home."

"The crater. Hmm… He wants to know if he can control that." Dazai let out a sigh, suddenly looking years older. "The reason there's so little information on this village is because it didn't exist before." He barked out a bitter laugh. "It was made to be destroyed."

"That's… come on, that's ridiculous."

"Maybe. We'll see. How much you want to bet we can't stop this ability user without that god of yours?"

"Whatever you want," Chuuya said grimly. "Because I'm not going to have to use it."

---

The day came and went, leaving evening in their wake. Chuuya had been pacing for the last hour, which Dazai had blessedly remained silent throughout. As certain as he was that he wouldn't have to put Arahabaki to use he was less certain it was wise not to. If Boss had gone to all this trouble just to test him… Coming back without any actual results would probably go badly for both of them, but particularly Dazai. He could tell by the pinched look about his eye.

And, damn it, he didn't like Dazai, but he was starting to dislike the effect Boss had on him even more. Still, killing an entire village just to make Dazai's report a little more detailed? He was a criminal, not a mass murderer.

But you did kill, he thought grimly. The day you were born you wiped out a portion of the city. And you've done whatever you had to do since then to survive.

Chuuya wasn't about to pretend his hands were clean. They were anything but. And yet, premeditated murder had never really been his thing, exactly.

He let out a frustrated sigh. Since when had his life gotten this complicated? He just wanted to be given some orders and go on his merry way, not deliberate games or moral justification or whether his partnership with Dazai was cause enough to play into this ridiculous charade to begin with.

Maybe the problem wasn't the killing so much as the mystery surrounding the killing. Chuuya liked things to be simple: get in, do the mission, get out. This had been a maze of complexity with more layers than he could keep track of. This was Dazai's domain and Chuuya was suddenly very grateful that he wasn't Dazai.

"It's about time now, isn't it?" Chuuya demanded, sick of waiting. The sun was just sinking below the horizon now; they could finally chase after this ability user and get things over with.

"Seems that way," Dazai acknowledged. He'd been absolutely miserable to be around, more so than usual. His jabs and sarcastic remarks were annoying, but ultimately familiar at this point. This prolonged silence was a new side of him that Chuuya found he didn't care much for.

The brisk evening air hit them without mercy the second they stepped outside.

"I hate this," Dazai muttered.

"Not a huge fan myself," Chuuya admitted, though he was speaking more of the ominous woods around them than of the cold currently trying to seep through his clothes and into his bones.

They stood there for a moment, unsure of what they ought to be waiting for. Nobody had indicated there was any announcement to the ability user's presence since, well, most acted like they didn't believe in it.

Then, far in the distance, they heard a howl.

"I'd say that's our charge, Dazai murmured. "And most likely it's heading for Sora-san's. We'd best hurry."

As they raced through the woods, Chuuya took a moment to wonder why they hadn't left much sooner. Of course, it was because Dazai had insisted it was pointless.

It will be easier to track if it thinks we're far away. It has no way of knowing how swiftly we can reach it.

Chuuya thought it was more likely a way of testing Boss's patience, some weird little game he was conducting in an effort to… what? Fail? At this point, Chuuya wasn't sure if he cared; he just wanted it over with.

They reached the village under cover of darkness and Sora's farm soon thereafter. At first, everything seemed much as it had during their last visit. It was quiet and the stench of blood wafted from the barn. They were crouched around the corner of it, so it was impossible to miss. He could hear the unsettled shuffling of the animals within.

Still hasn't cleaned that up properly, Chuuya mused. And no one has found that strange.

Well, why would they? Every single one of them was in on it.

It took several long moments before Chuuya registered the shift in atmosphere. It was already freezing, but the temperature was steadily dropping. Chuuya shivered slightly and turned toward Dazai, about to ask if he'd noticed the shift, only to see his eye was widened and locked on something in the distance.

Warily, he turned toward the direction he was staring at. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch at what was before them.

It was Sora or, more accurately, what was left of him, strewn across the lawn. Chuuya inhaled sharply. That had not been there when they'd arrived, which meant that whatever this thing was had killed a man and mutilated him without either of them noticing.

This was far more deadly than he'd given it credit for. Maybe he should have demanded more details on the deaths of the previous villagers from Dazai earlier, but he'd thought it was just a test and… And Sora had been the only one not in on it. Of course he'd died.

The rest of them might die yet if he had to unleash Arahabaki.

Dazai gestured for him to follow him behind the barn, out of sight of the mess. Chuuya crept along behind him, keeping an eye out for their charge all the while.

"It wasn't Sora-san," Dazai whispered, a glint of dark humor in his eye.

"No kidding!" Chuuya hissed. "You know it's somewhere around here; we need to hurry."

"Oh, I was thinking we should probably leave," Dazai replied nonchalantly. "This seems a bit above your pay grade."

Chuuya shoved him hard in the shoulder. "A man was just murdered before us for no reason whatsoever and you want to turn tail and hide."

His eye narrowed at that. "We're mafia; not heroes. I think this is needlessly dangerous and that's what will be in my report to Mori-san."

Chuuya scoffed in disbelief. "I don't believe this. You spent the whole mission talking about how we needed 'details' for the boss, and now you don't care? What about the test?"

"This isn't an average ability user."

"Yeah, well, neither am I," Chuuya drawled. "I feel bad for the guy, honest, and I'll feel a lot better after knocking this thing around for a while. Come on."

Dazai gripped him tightly about his shoulder. "Knocking it about won't do any good if you don't unleash that thing. You know that, don't you? I'm giving you a chance to return to Mori-san without having to decimate this pathetic village. I thought you might be interested."

"I thought leaving without results wasn't an option," Chuuya bit back.

"Chuuya." For once, Dazai was completely serious. "If you do this, you won't be free anymore. Mori-san would never allow that kind of power to leave. You'll be chained to the Port Mafia forever."

"Maybe I never really was," Chuuya replied bitterly. "Maybe I just don't know how to be."

"Ah," Dazai hummed, his eye dim. "Perhaps I should have known; you were so hasty to swear your allegiance. Well, I suppose you'll fit right in with everyone else in that case."

"Look," Chuuya continued with difficulty. "I'm still hoping not to… use that power, but I'm not leaving without anything. You would be—" Punished. "—way too difficult to live with if I did that."

Dazai opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but the air suddenly dropped about ten degrees and his mouth clamped shut as he wrapped his arms about himself. His shaking breath made itself known as it froze about him with each exhale.

For Chuuya's part, he felt disoriented. It was like his head had been stuffed with cotton and his heart was beating even faster than normal. Fast enough it would have killed a regular man on the spot.

Dazai wouldn't like that, he thought hazily.

"I-I think," Dazai grit out, "it's nearby."

"No kidding," Chuuya hissed back.

He forced himself into a crouch and began moving about the farm's perimeter, looking for, well, a giant wolf-shaped shadow. He felt utterly ridiculous, but the environment spoke for itself; something was here and it was dangerous. Dazai didn't follow after him at first until Chuuya returned to drag him by his wrist. He whined in protest, but followed along at a slower pace.

For all of his genius, Dazai was physically inept, Chuuya had realized. No wonder he was stuck with him; the real question was how he'd survived up until this point.

As he approached the wet rice field further out, he saw it. At first he wasn't sure what he was witnessing; it blended in as some kind of immense shadow that he mistook for a tree or bush or something at first. But the fear that followed.

He clutched at his chest, for once actually concerned he might have a heart attack. Dazai wheezed beside him.

"Ch-Chuuya," he gasped. "I don't think… I can reason with this…"

As if Chuuya had expected him to. What, did he think they were about to have a hostage negotiation or something?

By far the worst part was that it hadn't even done anything. It hadn't moved, hadn't twitched, spoken, anything. It just stood there, ominous and unknowable, and Chuuya's heart palpitated. If the boss got his hands on something this powerful… well, the Port Mafia would have quite the edge.

That's it, he realized. He wants to see which is more powerful: me or this thing. But if I die, he loses both, doesn't he?

Puzzling. Unless, of course, he was certain Chuuya would win.

But Chuuya had worked with a gang for most of his life. If the boss was certain Chuuya would win and he wasn't expecting them to bring this thing back then there was only one possibility: he just wanted them to prevent another gang from getting their hands on it.

It always came back to power in the end, didn't it? It always had for Chuuya.

When the shadow finally moved, Chuuya tensed, though not nearly as much as Dazai did at his side. He clutched at his arm as if it were a lifeline and it occurred to him that Dazai probably had a lot more to fear in life than he did.

"If I get you near it, you can turn its power off," Chuuya gritted out. "Right? Come on."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be happy to wait for us," Dazai said with a shaky laugh as Chuuya dragged him across the rice fields. There wasn't any point in being sneaky about it; it was right there and there wasn't a good route to sneak up to it. If Chuuya hadn't had Dazai to worry about, he'd just lunge at the thing, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the moment he left Dazai's side it would go right for him. He wasn't quite sure what this thing's powers were, so risking his partner's life probably wasn't wise just yet.

The shadow shifted, finally showing some sign of awareness. He got the impression it was sizing them up. Then, it disappeared. Chuuya froze. The chill hadn't let up and neither had his inexplicable dread, so it must still be nearby. He scanned the vicinity, letting out a quiet curse as he found nothing.

Dazai finally collapsed, his eyes wide as he stared up at the sky. "I think," he gasped, "I think I'm dying." His eyes widened further still.

"Don't be stupid," Chuuya snarled as he whirled about, seeking their target. "It's a void made of fear and hatred, right? This is just its ability. It isn't real."

Dazai let out a shuddering laugh before he choked, coughing up blood. "Tell that to my internal organs."

Right. Dazai didn't have a god to give his system a boost. "Wait here," he commanded. "I'll find it and move it closer to you."

He simply groaned in response, his hand clutching at his chest. Chuuya needed to be fast. Luckily, without Dazai around to hinder his ability, speed wasn't a problem. He floated a few feet off the ground and skimmed across the landscape, looking for a moving shadow.

It didn't take too long to find it now that he was using his ability as intended. It was hovering near the pens. Maybe it actually was hungry. He could hear the animals moo and whinny and cluck in distress.

"There you are!" he cried as he approached from behind, and he slammed his fist right into it.

Or he tried to. The shadow dissipated, and his fist instead made a small crater in the ground. He growled in frustration. So that's how it was going to be. Fine. He'd just keep at it until it was within range of Dazai and he could turn its stupid ability off.

From there it was a game of cat and mouse where Chuuya couldn't quite tell which role he had. Sure, he was getting the shadow to move in the direction he wanted, but the way it snarled and howled indicated it wasn't intimidated and he had yet to land a single hit on the thing. Furthermore, his heart was racing. He was a little worried that when he finally returned to Dazai, he really would be dead, just like he thought. He wasn't physically able to withstand something like this the way Chuuya was. Hell, Chuuya was far more sluggish in his movements than was normal; he couldn't claim to be unaffected.

"Come on, just a little further," he muttered under his breath as he slammed his fist into the ground where the shadow had been once more.

And… there. Dazai was within range, but when Chuuya got a good look at him, his face was waxen and he was so still that Chuuya's blood ran cold.

"Dazai!" No, no his partner wasn't supposed to die on his watch. He was a freak, but Chuuya was better than this. He skid over to him, just barely dodging a sudden swipe from the shadow. He gripped his shoulders and forced him into a sitting position.

"Come on, don't be dead, deactivate this thing's ability, and let's get out of here!" he hissed into his ear. He thought he heard Dazai choke a bit, but then he was moving, ever so slowly, and forced a hand out. Chuuya lifted him, and moved as fast as he could toward the shadow.

When Dazai's hand came in contact he screamed in pain and Chuuya shuddered at the sound. The shadow shifted, almost teasingly and… nothing. It didn't deactivate.

"Oh, shi—" It slammed into him, suddenly very solid, and Chuuya only had a brief moment to understand this thing had been playing him like a fiddle before he slammed into the rice fields, choking on water and slipping as he tried desperately to stand back up in time. He wasn't sure where Dazai had gone.

He could drown, he realized with mounting panic. I don't know where he is and he could drown and I might die and—

And he was right. His heart sank. The only way out of this is Arahabaki. Just like the boss wanted.

"I hate you both so much right now," he whispered. He'd never meant that as sincerely before in his life.

Terrified, he slipped his gloves off. "Oh, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again."

And then there was nothing but darkness.

---

When next he woke, it was to Dazai's face staring down at him, oddly grim and stoic. Chuuya would have loved to wipe it off his face—he was sick of his partner's many moods-but he was finding it difficult to move. It didn't escape his notice that Dazai was soaked, however. He must have also gotten tossed into the rice fields.

He tried to say something, but his voice caught and he wound up coughing up blood instead.

"You really are frightening like that, aren't you?" Dazai murmured. Even though he was speaking so quietly, his voice still grated on his ears. "A power like that… some people would say it shouldn't exist on this plane of existence."

Chuuya eyed the hand gripping his wrist. He took a forced, shallow breath. "Are you one of them?"

Dazai wiped the blood away from his mouth, almost tenderly. "I could kill you," he replied coolly. "I sincerely believe most people would be happier dead. But should you exist? How should I know? But I wonder, if the one with the power of a god is too powerful for this plane, then what of the one who can remove that power?"

"Wow," Chuuya managed. "You're not just a suicidal maniac but a pretentious one, too. Just put me out of my misery."

He actually laughed at that because of course he did. "Don't you want to know what happened?"

"No," Chuuya sighed. "I can smell the smoke."

More than that, he could hear the silence that spoke of death and tragedy. Arahabaki had had its fill for today and that village hadn't stood a chance.

"All that effort, and we could have ended the problem from the start," Dazai mused. "It's humorous if you think about it."

"Only to someone like you."

"Then do you feel guilty?" He sounded genuinely curious. "They're all dead."

As if he needed to be told that. A good person would have said yes, but then again, a good person wouldn't have unleashed the power of a god to save his own skin and that of his ungrateful partner all to satisfy a crime lord with a penchant for young girls. Chuuya wasn't a good person and couldn't kid himself into thinking he was. He did what he did to survive, to have a place to belong, not to win the moral high ground.

He could practically see the last remnants of his ethics burn to ashes.

"No," he said honestly. He'd made a vow to a monster and was now partnered up with another. Sure, he could justify himself: he'd done it so Dazai wouldn't be punished in whatever warped, soul-shattering way the boss wanted, but he knew it wasn't really true.

Part of him had been curious.

Part of him was just as messed up as Dazai.

"Your blood really is mafia black," Dazai murmured. "I don't know if I'm impressed or frightened."

"I don't really care either way."

Dazai finally let go of his wrist and sat back with a heavy groan. "Everything hurts; we're going to be in the hospital for weeks."

He struggled to turn his head to get a better look at him. "Did I hurt you?"

"Hm? No, strangely you didn't. You were flinging those orbs all over the place, but none of them came near me. How fortunate." He sounded incredibly bitter. Maybe he thought being turned to ashes almost instantaneously would make for a good death. Figured.

"How's your chest, then?"

"Mm, not so good," Dazai admitted, resting a hand on it. "I feel quite certain I had at least two separate heart attacks. The ability to induce fear… Maybe that's the most powerful ability of them all. Save for yours and, by extension, mine."

"Kind of full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Generally speaking, yes. But I have earned it."

"Right," he muttered. "How are we returning to the Port Mafia like this?"

Rather than say anything, Dazai simply pointed upwards. Chuuya struggled to focus on what was above him. It took a moment, but then the helicopters became visible.

"Boss was keeping an eye on us," he realized.

"Not all that surprising."

"I think I hate him."

"Sure. But he gave you a place and you're going to serve him anyway, aren't you?"

Chuuya couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes.

"It's all right," Dazai whispered. "I'm still serving him, too, aren't I?"

"Why?" Chuuya demanded. God, he ached everywhere, but he had to know.

"Because I still want to know," he said quietly, "whether there's a reason to live. What better method than to see how people die?"

"That's insane."

"Maybe so. But Chuuya," his eye took on an unholy gleam. "I'm the only one who can stop you; the only one who can keep you in line. Things should be very interesting from now on, don't you think?"

Dazai really was exhausting to be around. "Maybe you're the only one who can stop me," Chuuya acknowledged. "But I'm the only one who can understand you. You're someone who values information above all else. Who would you say has more power between the two of us?"

His eye widened briefly, but then he smiled and it almost seemed genuine. "I think Mori-san will be pleased with our report."

---

Their return was met with great interest by everyone, but particularly the boss. Just as Dazai had predicted, he wasn't overly concerned with what happened to the village or the creature or anything other than the power Chuuya had demonstrated.

"That will prove useful later," he'd sighed before dismissing them. "Truly, the two of you were meant to be partners."

"And there you have it," Dazai said when they were alone in the hall. "Case closed."

"Are they all going to be like that?" He glanced down at his bandaged body. He looked alarmingly similar to Dazai and he was in significant pain. No one had asked him if he was ready to go on another mission or if he was even feeling all right. He couldn't claim to be terribly surprised by that.

"Full of pointless bloodshed? Probably, though I doubt we'll be calling on your ultimate talent that often. But if you're wondering whether they'll all be so… open-ended, well," he shrugged. "It's not really your job to have all the details, is it?"

"I'm just a weapon and you're the one with the trigger, is that right?" Maybe if he weren't on a ton of painkillers he'd be angrier at that, but at the moment, all he could feel was a numb wooziness. Toppling over was not outside the realm of possibility.

Still, it bothered him that they didn't really know what that thing had been. Was it an ability user that was immune to No Longer Human? Or was it truly a werewolf straight out of lore? Which of those possibilities was more alarming?

"You're catching on. Still…" He eyed him with a tight frown. "You gave up freedom without even thinking about it."

"I thought about it. Contrary to what you believe, I think about a lot of things."

"Masochistic then," he replied dismissively. "Not that I can judge."

"The boss won't do anything to you?" he asked quietly, barely breathing as he uttered the words. "We got the information he wanted."

"You needn't worry about that," Dazai said, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I'll be fine."

"Just answer the question."

He huffed. "He was pleased. Nothing will happen. You're full of contradictions, aren't you? You'll do anything for him, but you'll still bother to feel guilty over my predicament. Has it occurred to you you might simply be a hypocrite?"

"Has it occurred to you that looking for the meaning of life among the dead is stupid?"

They glowered at each other for several beats. Dazai was the first to look away.

"Whatever," he said, tone suddenly light as if they'd been discussing the weather. "I have things to do, reports to write. Go do whatever it is you do with your free time."

He walked away and Chuuya let him. There wasn't any point in prolonging this interaction after all. They were partners but they weren't friends.

Maybe it wasn't possible to have friends in this business. Maybe that was what he'd fundamentally misunderstood in the Sheep all along and why their betrayal had hurt so much.

But there was a difference between then and now. Then, he'd been in charge, under the illusion that things would never change. Now he was inextricably intertwined with someone who might just kill himself and yet, somehow, held power over him.

And Chuuya had power over him in turn.

No, it wasn't friendship, but it was as close to an equitable exchange as one could have when they were surrounded by shadows and death, and every now and then, one of those shadows might reach self-actualization, and remind them that they didn't have any answers at all.

All they had was that nameless fear that kept them alive a day at a time.

---

Author's Notes: I'd love to hear what you guys thought about this one. I often feel like Chuuya is written as being nobler than he really is and I tried to capture some of his darker nature here along with Dazai.