With every step closer to a certain short-stack's apartment, Dazai's irritation increased. However, he couldn't tell for the first time why. Was it because he had always hated Chuuya? Was it because somewhere hidden in the recesses of his mind, he knew he had wronged him? Or was it because this was all the old lady's plan and he had been forced into this?

Speaking of which, would she just stop humming so cheerfully as she trailed after him?

Finally, they arrived at his … broken door. He heard the old lady gasp beside him.

"Don't worry," he said dryly, after calmly assessing the broken lock and handle, as well as the fist-sized dent left on the broken wood. "He's just got anger issues, remember?"

When they entered the house, it was dark. But Dazai could just about make out an overturned table and made sure to sidestep it. Fortunately, the glass didn't seem to be broken since the floor was carpeted.

"Shouldn't we have knocked or rung the doorbell?" The old lady asked softly as they went round the furniture.

"In his current state, he wouldn't answer. And if he did come to the door, it would be to kick us out of this very building," Dazai replied.

He then pointed to a faint light coming from the bedroom. "That's where he is. You can go in first. He'd probably burst a vein if I walked in."

Dazai watched as the old lady knocked on the door before walking in. He paused where he was and looked around the place.

Sure brings back some memories.

"AAHHH!"

Two simultaneous screams suddenly jolted Dazai into action. He rushed into the bedroom to find the old lady at the door to Chuuya's bathroom and Chuuya himself, with a pocket knife at the old lady's throat.

"Oh!" Dazai exclaimed, "I'm sorry, I forgot to mention he has got violent tendencies as well."

Cursing at the sound of Dazai's voice, Chuuya threw the pocket knife to the ground. "Get out. GET OUT BEFORE I KICK YOU BOTH OUT!"

Normally, Dazai would have just dragged the old lady out with him right now since he never wished to be anywhere near Chuuya in the first place. But right now, it was kind of hard to take him seriously when the man was fully naked, save for a white towel around his waist … So Dazai just stared, slightly amused.

"Young man," started the old lady. "I don't mean any harm, I just wanted to give you this." She lifted the box of chamomile teabags from the paper bag she was holding.

Chuuya stared at it. Seriously? Why can't people just leave him alone? What did he do to deserve this?

"I don't want it," he stated flatly. "Please just go."

"I think you could use some," the old lady pressed. "My daughter would drink it too, when she felt worked up –"

"I'm not your fucking daughter!" Chuuya yelled. He was so angry he could feel a fresh wave of tears forming behind his eyes. "Don't treat me like her just because she's gone! I hate you and I certainly DON'T appreciate you coming here with that waste of bandages!"

Dazai lifted a bandaged hand to his chin, thinking. Maybe coming here wasn't such a bad idea after all. He was able to annoy Chuuya, and confirm the information he wanted to confirm all along! Who knew Chuuya, of all people, had the information he wanted on this old lady?

The old lady actually looked slightly hurt. "I'm not treating you like Kano."

"Well," Chuuya pointed to the door, "then leave. Your Kano and I have something in common now and that's the fact that we both resent you."

"Sheesh. That's harsh, Chuuya," Dazai finally spoke up.

At once, the redhead's rage bubbled to the surface. "Why did you come here? Why did you bring her here? You have some nerve, bandages!"

Dazai held up the hat he was holding in his hands. "Want this back?"

"Not after you've contaminated it with your germs! Get the fuck out of my house! You too, old lady!"

"Now, don't be so rude," Dazai narrowed his eyes. "Her husband was killed you know, by the Port Mafia."

A tense moment of silence passed. Chuuya locked eyes with Dazai, both men's expressions unreadable.

"I'm going to go make some tea," said the old lady, clearing her throat as she made her way out of the bedroom.

"HEY!" Chuuya yelled after her and made to follow. "Don't just make yourself at home here!"

Dazai let out a low chuckle as he grabbed onto Chuuya's arm to stop him. "I think you," he started, and let his eyes fall from Chuuya's to trail down his body, "should put on some clothes first."

"Bastard," Chuuya yanked his arm from Dazai's grasp.

Dazai let his eyes follow the redhead to the bathroom before making his own way out to the living room. Finally, he let his thoughts off the reins and run free through his mind. All sorts of questions and hunches and theories occupied his head at once.

Meanwhile, once Chuuya re-entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. Though his thoughts remain muddled and anger pulsated through his body, for some inexplicable reason …

The loneliness had gone away.


Dazai decided to follow the old lady to the kitchen. He still had some questions unanswered, thanks to Chuuya's new revelation about this Kano girl earlier.

"Hey, Onuki-san, right?" Dazai said, watching her prepare tea in Chuuya's kitchen.

She turned her head and a look of surprise crossed her face for just a second. "Oh right, you have information on me, don't you?"

"Just some," said Dazai smiling. "And you'll be so kind to supplement the rest, won't you? After all, we did come all the way here."

The elderly lady sighed, stirring the contents of a porcelain teapot. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know about this Kano you mentioned earlier. She's your daughter, isn't she? Why did that chibi say she hated you?"

The elderly lady stooped down to search the cabinets, looking for something.

Slightly irritated by her distraction and lack of an immediate answer, Dazai crossed his arms. "If you're looking for a tray, that's in the shelf above you."

"Ah!" She exclaimed as she reached for the tray she was looking for. The elderly lady carefully placed the teapot and three matching porcelain cups on the silver tray before heading out to the living room.

Dazai trailed after her, expectant. "Well?"

"Hmm?" The elderly lady hummed, laying down the tray on a leather couch, seeing as the marble coffee table was still overturned.

"Why does Kano resent you?" Dazai repeated.

"Didn't you say she blames you for your husband's death?" Chuuya said as he suddenly emerged from the bedroom, a towel over his neck.

Dazai noted the oversized shirt and sweatpants. "Still dressing like a girl at night, aren't you?"

Chuuya threw his towel at Dazai's face. "If you're just here to mock me, tell me so that I can invite you out my house myself!"

"Stop it! Both of you!" The elderly lady held up her hand. "Calm down and have some tea!"

For a second, no one moved. Then Dazai took the towel of his face and sauntered casually over to another long couch, occupying the centre seat.

Chuuya's glare never left Dazai's face but he too, sat himself down on a matching armchair.

Happy with this arrangement, the elderly lady started to pour tea for the three of them.

"So …." Dazai started, "Kano-san blames your you for your husband's death?"

With a sigh, the old lady nodded her head.

"Why?" Dazai pressed. Despite the awkward situation seeing that Chuuya was in the room, he didn't want to risk leaving now and then starting over from square one again. He was too close to the information to let it slip from his grasp.

"You see I … I loved my husband a lot," the old lady started, handing some tea over to Chuuya. "And he loved me too," she continued, turning to Dazai, "but we also fought a lot – we were just both really hardheaded people."

Dazai took a teacup from her before sitting back down, waiting for her to elaborate. His patience was rewarded.

"It was just one of those nights. We were arguing over the phone," the elderly lady said, now pouring herself some tea. "I don't even remember what it was about. But Kano-chan was still awake then, and she heard us. She also heard me tell her father not to come home. Of course I said that in a fit of anger but … he took it to heart, and stayed at the police office, working overtime."

Chuuya suddenly spoke up. "Wait, when was all this?"

"Oh! Pretending to be the detective now –" Dazai would have continued if it weren't for the death glare the old lady gave him, herself.

"Six – no, seven years ago?" The elderly lady continued, trying to recall. "That office was gunned down seven years ago, I think."

Chuuya's eyes widened. "I think I know what you're talking about!"

"Of course you do," Dazai quipped.

"Well, it was a pretty huge incident," the elderly lady nodded, seemingly oblivious to the exchange. "And that's how Kano-chan grew up to hate both me and the Port Mafia. She was always closer to her father …"

Dazai grinned. This was perfect. The puzzle was solving itself in his mind. He just needed to confirm one last thing … this time, with the hat-rack himself.

"Also, young man," the old lady suddenly said, turning to Chuuya. "This apartment – it's quite big isn't it? And well-furnished too," she remarked, her eyes scanning the antique vases, floor-to-ceiling windows and various drapery. "Are you sure you're an office worker?"

Chuuya choked on his tea as Dazai laughed. "That's what you told her, chibi?"

Just then, Chuuya's phone rang and he couldn't have been more glad. "Excuse me," he said, scrambling to pick it up.

"Nakahara-san," said Okamoto's voice over the line. "I'm sorry to bother you when you've already signed off."

"What's wrong?" Chuuya asked, turning his head away from the other people in the room.

"Both you and I have been summoned," she continued, a little hesitatingly, "to Boss's office."

Chuuya stood up, surprised. "Now?"

"Yes, right now," Okamoto affirmed. "Please do come quick. Other than that, no other details were given."

"Understood, I'm on my way," Chuuya replied before hanging up. Worry furrowed his brows. Impromptu calls to the office after one's signed off for the night don't usually mean a good thing. If it was something that could wait, Mori would have called him in the next day.

Dazai narrowed his eyes. "Who was that? You don't speak that way to Kouyou Ane-san."

Chuuya sneered back before dashing into his room. "Wouldn't you like to know!"

In a mere few minutes, Chuuya emerged, now clad in his normal work attire. Dazai stood up to follow him to the door.

"Looks urgent," he remarked.

"Yeah well," Chuuya struggled with his shoes a little. "Boss wants me in the office fast, no other details were – hey! Stop trying to get info out of me!"

The redhead straightened up and made to unlock his door but realized he had broken the lock earlier.

Dazai chuckled. "Well, have fun with Mori-san and your … new personal assistant."

"She's not my personal assistant," said Chuuya coolly as he stepped outside. He felt a sudden rush of pride. "She's a new subordinate under me, and she's actually capable, unlike you. Now get out of my house before you stink up the whole place!"

And with that, Chuuya promptly left.

"What was that all about?" The elderly lady came up to Dazai, looking confused.

Dazai narrowed his eyes, his mind concentrating on fitting the new puzzle pieces in with the rest. "Hmm … I think I'm starting to get the full picture now."


Chuuya

Many thoughts were racing through my head as I physically raced to the office building. I had thought about hailing a cab but in such a quiet district at 1am, that might take longer than running there myself.

Thankfully, I was nimble and swift enough on foot to reach there in record time.

As I went up the elevators, I caught my breath and found time to go over those racing thoughts. I was slightly troubled how I had left both Dazai and the old lady at my place … I should have made them go home before I went off. But it was too late to do anything about that now.

I was also trying to figure out what exactly was Dazai's game … Sure, going into that café could have been a coincidence (though I highly doubt so because we both make the effort to stay as far away as possible from each other's apartments) but what about coming to my place? Returning my hat was a shitty excuse. Guiding the old lady to my house to deliver some tea was an even shittier excuse. The Dazai I knew … the Dazai I knew wouldn't have bothered. So the fact that he did meant …

He was after something.

A chill ran down my spine. I hate not knowing what exactly he is pursuing. But I forced myself to re-run through what had just conspired at my place anyway. Dazai and the old lady arrived, and refused to leave. Then when I joined them in my living room, we started discussing the old lady's husband, and her daughter too … Could he have started and guided that conversation on purpose? Was he trying to find out something about the old lady? But why? Isn't she just an ordinary café owner?

And am I somehow involved in all this?

I started to perspire in spite of the night's chill. Maybe I was … I mean, I was there, wasn't I? Seven years ago … in that police office with Ane-san …

"To learn how things worked in the Port Mafia," I completed my thought with a whisper, recalling what I said to Akutagawa.

Then, the elevator doors dinged open and I remembered myself. Troubling as it may be, now's not the time to be concerned with Dazai or the past. I stepped into the hallway and squinted; I could see Okamoto already waiting outside the heavy double doors.

"Okamoto-kun," I called, running up to her.

"Nakahara-san," she politely bowed. "You came really fast."

I scratched my head, "Sorry to make you wait. Though, couldn't you have gone in yourself first?"

She shook her head, glancing at the guards. "They told me that Boss wanted us both in at the same time."

The guards bowed in greeting as I looked over at them too.

"You may enter now," one of them said as they pushed open the double doors.

I looked at Okamoto but she was staring ahead. I wondered if she felt nervous. This was her first time being called to meet with the Head of the Port Mafia, after all.

She seemed to have felt my gaze because she turned her head to look at me.

"Well. Ready when you are," she said, a serene smile spreading across her face.


A/N: The last puzzle piece obtained! And the plot thickens ... ;) (Also if someone drew Chuuya brandishing a knife while in nothing but a white fluffy towel, I would be so happy, please)