She wondered how low his opinion was of her. Dazai Osamu was obviously following her. Was he making it obvious for her to notice or did he think her stupid enough to not notice? She stopped and turned around. It seems, Dazai was just waiting for her to get tired of his bullshit. He waved at her and smiled. He didn't hurry to catch up with her, however, adding to her irritation. She pulled her the plugs, wincing at the sounds surrounding her immediately. Those were the sounds of the living city. When Dazai was finally beside her, she reached for his hand first just in case.

"Aw, you missed me," he cooed playfully, taking her hand in his.

"So, what are you about to tell me," she scoffed at his playfulness. This was foolish. This was theatrical. This wasn't truthful.

"Port Mafia is watching your apartment," Dazai stated very calmly. "So, don't walk around with your bare legs," he added in a familiar childish manner. Blok didn't appreciate the changed in attitude. One second he was solemn and serious and next talking like a child. She sure had seen people wearing and changing masks, but Dazai's talent in doing so is outstanding.

"What a brat you are," she said wanting to sound unbothered.

"Thanks. Don't worry, though, I won't give to the mafia so easily."

"Why would they even need me?" Saskia played it off.

"Aw, I see what you are doing here, detective Blok," Dazai turned to face her. There was that empty smile on his face. Gone was the playful shine from his eyes, now they were just dark and as deprived of sincerity as his smile, "You want to know what I would use you for as an ex-executive of the mafia."

"Aren't you sharp." Blok spoke calmly despite the fear the man could set into her bones. He hasn't done anything to harm her. The biggest threat he'd made so far was to reveal her ability. The most harm he had caused her was an annoyance. She cannot outright claim that he was planning on revealing her face to the mafia. And yet he terrifies her...sometimes.

"Now you will trust me even less, huh."

"I didn't have a single reason to trust you before," Blok replied. She felt at peace at the idea of them not trusting each other. "I have more reasons to distrust you now, ex-mafia Dazai Osamu," she dragged out the last part. She dragged out a reaction from him. Dazai looked at her. Dark eyes filled with emotion, but she couldn't read it. There were too many and they were all gone too fast. In a blink, they turned dark and empty again, observing and sharp and unforgiving. He knew what she did. She felt strangely ashamed of herself.

"You wound me!" To signify the dramatism, Osamu placed a hand on his heart signifying where exactly he was wounded.

"Please," the detective scoffed. "Your dramatic facade is only annoying me," she reprimanded. He pouted.

"Quit it." That was a warning. Dazai stopped moving forward. Their intertwined hands caused her to stop too. And when Saskia looked at him, she felt scared. The emotion on his face — the absence of it — was terrifyingly profound. He had taken all the layers he'd wrap himself in.

"So, you won't trust me?" he asked. His voice didn't convey anything. It wasn't a threat or a simple inquiry.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Trust is a two-way street," he continued, "you have to meet me halfway."

"You aren't doing shit, Dazai!" she shouted at him. "You are manipulating and blackmailing me to do your bidding!"

His hand slipped from hers. His mouth opened and closed. With both his hands back in his pockets, he resumed walking. A smile was slowly drawn on his face. Blok was dumbfounded by the nothing that happened. Nonetheless, she had to catch up with him and fast. What else is there to do?

"There's a good chance that mister Tyutchev and his accomplices had only been keeping an eye on our office," he said, "park your car and only use public transportation from now on. If you have sick days at work, I recommend you use them."

"What happens after we are done with this case, huh?" she pulled his arm in retaliation. "Will Port Mafia come knocking on my door offering their employment benefits?"

"If you worried about that…" His smile was a mocking grin. Dark eyes laughing at her. He made her feel small and powerless and defenseless. He made her feel exactly what she was.

"Then you'll have to trust me," he turned his face to her as he spoke, displaying all the derision he held for her at this moment.

"Trust isn't a given, Dazai!"

Her hand grabbed him by the collar of his coat, pulling him close. Yet it didn't stop him from ridiculing her attitude. With a smug grin on his face, he didn't attempt to free himself. To show how unfazed he was, he kept his hands in the pockets. She felt as if her anger was a joke just by looking at his laughing expression.

"You have to earn it," the words came out muffled through her gritted teeth but understandable. Osamu tilted his head looking even more amused than before. He tore away her hand from the collar of his coat. Long fingers held on to the feminine wrist tightly. And then Dazai turned his face to the side and raised a brow. Saskia followed.

"Matsukata?" the woman yelled in surprise. Matsukata rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, averting his gaze. Saskia broke free from Dazai's hold on her hand and made a step back. This must have looked very out-of-context to Matsukata. It's none of his business but she didn't want her temporary partner to go around the department talking about it. That would simply be bothersome.

"I'm sorry," the man said, still not meeting her eyes. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Her thought was to reach for Dazai and to stop receiving pain for other people's untruths. But this was her colleague lying to her. He very much meant to interrupt whatever it is he thought he witnessed. Now, that could be happening for a few reasons, and only one reason Saskia found acceptable. Her eyes travelled to Dazai who looked very unimpressed.

"I should have known," Satoru finally looked at the two, "there were already rumors."

"What rumors?" Osamu asked.

"About you two…About Blok having a boyfriend."

Oh, that. She had to explain her request to the computer guys at the department somehow. You don't just trace someone's locations for reasons like "he's blackmailing me for my ability to help out" and "he's the only person my ability doesn't work on so maybe this way I'll know something". So, she said she was getting into a relationship after a serious heartbreak and, well, was having some trust issues. The latter was happening anyway, so it's not that much of a stretch.

Dazai's face changed again. He pulled another persona from his collection of masks. This one was a friendly, childish one. The one he used when there was more than one person around.

"Aw, I didn't think you'd tell your friends about me, Saskia-chan!" Dazai could fool anyone with his act of sincerity.

"Sorry," Saskia forcefully smiled.

"I-I should go," Matsukata spoke up.

"Yeah," Dazai agreed, "that you should." Saskia looked at him in shock. There's a sudden animosity in Dazai's tone that she didn't expect to hear in this situation.

"It's late," he added in a much friendlier manner, smiling. He shrugged off the persona that just crawled its way out just a moment ago. Matsukata bowed out. They watched him walk away, neither saying a word. But Osamu's face and tone of voice were surely conveying a clear message to the detective. Dazai Osamu didn't slip up. Green eyes fixated on him, his expression, his body language. But apart from that brief moment, there was nothing else to signify his contempt for the man he'd never met before.

"Who's he?" Dazai asked when Matsukata was gone from view.

"A colleague," Saskia answered, "I'm supposed to be his partner for the time being. He's after surgery and all."

"Really. What do you know about your colleague?" Dazai asked.

"Not much, why?" she deflected.

"Not surprising," he sounded disturbed. Gone was the serene calmness from Dazai's voice. That agreeableness of his. Now the regular Dazai was speaking, the one that annoys her the most. "Do you remember that there is a rat in the police department?"

"And you think it's him?" she scoffed at the idea. Of all the people, Matsukata was the weakest choice to be recruited by the mafia. But Dazai is former mafia. She had no choice but to listen to his suggestions.

"Why not him?" he asked rhetorically.

"I wanted to ask," she shrugged. "I wanted to ask everyone but the problem is there's no subtle way to ask if they work for the mafia without being an asshole. But I'll... think of something."

"What do you think Matsukata was doing here?" he continued. Saskia had only once heard him talking in that tone. Dazai spoke with such animosity towards someone only once before. Only the man named Mori was able to elicit such emotion before.

"Don't know, don't care?"

"Didn't you say he was after surgery?"

"I get it, it's weird, I think so too. But he is not incapacitated." Saskia was about to lose it. Dazai couldn't just tell her whatever it was he was thinking about. Or how he was thinking about it. Asking him a question was just producing more questions from him.

"Remember that deal we had?" she questioned. "Where you owe me a full and honest answer?"

"I gave you my word." Dazai regarded her with a curious gaze. Saskia liked to think she caught him off guard by bringing up an old debt he promised to fulfill when called upon. If Matsukata truly was the one reporting to the mafia, then there was no place for him in the department. All she needed was to ask to know the truth. Hit or be hit kinda thing. If he was, in fact, the rat, she would have to uncover him. Somehow, alone, she would have to uncover him. Her head dropped, expression empty. There was no evidence so far, yet it was hard to doubt Dazai's suspicions. Her eyes wandered the empty streets. How long could she put it off and what evidence should she be looking for?

"There it is," Dazai said, pointing somewhere ahead of them. There was a sign, universally recognized pharmaceutical sign. The woman looked at the man skeptically.

"A night, a street, a lamp, a drugstore," he said, pointing right above them. But no one needs to look above them to know that here's a streetlamp above them.

"Are you on something?" Saskia asked, concerned. Dazai looked at her again with the same curious gaze. Yet this time it turned into amusement fast. He smiled at her, dismissing whatever it was that he started, and walked her two blocks further down the street.

A cup of coffee was placed on her table. Saskia raised a brow at the man. She was in the process of doing something and knowing Matsukata, he came to chat.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he winked. She let out a loud, exasperated sigh. There's now another man who had something to hold above her head. What's worse, he wasn't as temporary as Dazai. He would still continue working here even if not her assigned partner anymore.

"I see you are getting along," Ueda was quick to comment as he was passing by. Blok closer her eyes and rubbed her forehead. People were getting a bit too much today. Perhaps, Dazai was right and she should have pretended to be sick. She is getting sick of people real fast.

"Well, she didn't bite me yet," parried Matsukata with a light-hearted laugh. Ueda raised his cup of coffee as if to say 'cheers to that'. Saskia did not appreciate their banter.

"Anything else?" the woman asked, irritated by the whole ordeal. She had some work to do as well.

"Since today is quiet, I've been thinking that we should use this opportunity to get to know each other better," Matsukata said in a hushed voice. He didn't look particularly bashful or embarrassed. "I'm just interested in you, I guess."

"Matsu—"

"Come on, Saskia, we have to work together. We work in the same department but know nothing about each other. Well, except I know about your boyfr—"

"Stop right there, Satoru," Blok hissed. She couldn't recall when did they get so close, but she had no problem doing so now. He was overstepping. Again.

"And I'm a little worried," he whispered. Saskia groaned dropping her head in her hands. This was spiraling out of her control. She breathed in and breathed out, she needed to fix this very fast.

"He's not my boyfriend," the woman said, raising her head. "He's more like… potential interest, I guess. Anyway, you are right, it's not going so well, so I'm sure it will be over soon."

"Good," Satoru smiled, "frankly, I didn't like the guy either."

Saskia couldn't manage to smile. Instead, she just nodded and took the cup of coffee on her table. Her eyes turned back to the computer screen.

"So, about that get-together?" he asked, ignoring the obvious hint.

"Not today, perhaps, next week?" her tone indifferent.

"I'll take you up on that!"

"What else, what else?" Saskia mumbled. One day she'd memorize her shopping lists but, for now, a written one should do. Some random pieces of paper with the scribbled down necessary items. Something pulled on her sleeve. Her gaze immediately went there. A little girl. Saskia took out the earplug. It's not often a child wanders into the instant noodle section.

"Will you help me or no?" the girl asked, crossing her arms and puffing. The moment those were up in the air, something stopped feeling right. The strange feeling inside her head as if…

"Sure, what do you want?" Blok asked, looking at the child. Just a regular g girl. But why did she sound so…wrong. The headache is so familiar. She knew this feeling in her head. And yet, there was no statement made to begin with.

"Top shelf," the girl commanded. Saskia reached out and grabbed what was asked of her. All her thoughts were focused on figuring out why this child was triggering her ability. Detect the lie when spoken. No divine questions and philosophical concepts. She could never say if there's a god but she could tell if a priest didn't believe in one. She could tell when someone lied about what they believed in not but how close those beliefs are to the truth. But this child felt wrong. This little girl was a lie.

"Elise-chan!" A man's voice echoed not far from them. The little girl visibly reacted to the name. Blok tensed. Another voice that affected her. This one was different. This voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a face on it.

"There you are, Elise," the appeared in between the isles. "And who is this young lady?"

This question…this voice… The feeling of being drenched in water overwhelmed her. The feeling too familiar. Pain and fear. The voice that caused both. For a fraction of a second, she remembered what it was like to stand behind Dazai while he talked with the mafia members. She remembered thinking they shouldn't have walked away so easily. Now she could finally put a face on the voice of the mafia man named Mori. Don't let him know.

"A little helper," Blok shrugged and faked nonchalance. He cannot possibly attack me here. If that's the plan, why make his presence known? Mori came closer. And she watched him do just so. The smile disappearing from his face slowly. Look away from him. Saskia forced herself to look at Elise who was still by her side.

"I would agree with that," he said.

"Your daughter?" she asked, looking up again. The man was tall and lean with dark hair and even darker eyes. The white coat didn't suit a mafia member. It wasn't an unlucky coincidence they met here. The mafia is watching your apartment. Something Dazai got wrong. The mafia was watching her every move. The mafia would watch the ability users whose profiles were stolen.

"Yes," Mori nodded, "my daughter."

The toes curled up painfully inside her shoes. Don't let him know. Saskia bent down to Elise and tried her best to offer a pleasant smile. But the pain was getting to her. And her heartbeat was accelerating. You can't show either. Fear and pain.

"You shouldn't run away from your father," she spoke calmly. Her voice hadn't betrayed her yet.

"Then he shouldn't —"

"That's what I keep telling her," the man interrupted. "But Elise-chan doesn't listen!" And then Mori smiled. No, he beamed. Wide and empty as it was, he mimicked an emotion perfectly. Almost cheerful and almost believable. Saskia stepped back trying to keep up with her façade. Yet those eyes were dark and cold and penetrating. Those eyes…

"Have we met before?" the mafioso asked. He cocked his head and pressed a finger to his chin.

"I don't think so," Blok answered. Shit.

"Hm, you are right," he nodded. "I don't believe we've met before."

A sharp inhale and her toes curled again. She couldn't afford to display pain. She could not afford to give the man ideas. But the feeling was getting more and more intense. Every second sentence from Mori was a lie and Elise didn't sound right in general. Everything she said sounded wrong. What was this child anyway?

"Must be your face," he cheerfully concluded. Mori offered his hand to Elise which she took. Saskia realized a little too late how fixated her gaze was on their physical contact. A pretty convincing pair.

"What do you say, Elise, to this nice young lady?" Mori prompted his daughter. The little girl was obviously displeased by the idea of saying anything.

"Thank you," Elise said without a hint of gratitude. The girl sounded begrudged.

"It was nice meeting you, Elise," Saskia said ready to bow out. She needed to get out of the situation as naturally as possible. There's a very slim chance that her acting could convince Mori of her obliviousness. But getting out would prevent him from finding out more.

"I'm very grateful for helping my daughter!" Mori said waving her goodbye. Saskia's grip on the shopping basket tightened. Her breath hitched.

"Thank you," he continued sounding so much different now. That switch in his tone and the terrifying look in his eyes. She was too familiar with it. It didn't take her by surprise. "Thank you for all your service."

Their eyes met for the first time. That one moment was enough to understand she didn't manage to fool him. The weak but twisted smile on his face. Predatory and all-knowing gaze. There was no mistaking the underlying message he wanted her to understand. He knows. Of course, he knows. Why wouldn't he know. And he got me. Elise placed the item back on the shelf she could reach. And yet despite the terror, Saskia offered one final smile before turning around and calmly leaving. There was no point in running or trying to hide. Despite feeling the target on her back, she needed to continue around her day as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. She felt like crying. The moment the doors of her apartment closed, she let herself cry. In the darkness, leaning against the door, she let a few stray tears roll down her cheek.