Notes:
I write long chapters, 3-5,000 words, so you've been warned.
I will update every 2 weeks to begin with. If the writing continues to flow as it has been it may end up being every week.
Chapter One: Restless Waters
Summary:
The mission begins and Kunikida's gut may be right.
…I am the ever-laughing—it is new moon and twilight,
I see the hiding of douceurs—I see nimble ghosts whichever way I look,
Cache, and cache again, deep in the ground and sea, and where it is neither ground or sea.
Yokohama was a deceptively peaceful creature at night. The city lights blotted out the stars Atsushi had grown up seeing in the orphanage—the rare nights he could catch a glimpse of them. The darkness hid those who lurked in the deeper shadows, going about the business of monsters and men. Daylight was for those without blood on their hands and those born to be under the sun. Lately, the city seemed wrapped in a blanket of calm and quietness that felt almost unnatural to those who knew her true nature. A bustling port city filled with various levels of crime, Yokohama was a harsh place hidden behind a shroud of beautiful colors. This calm was hard-won, a result of the ongoing truce between the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency. Neither side wished to upend the arrangement, both contributing to the well-being of the city they loved despite her fickle nature.
All, however, was at stake if the Obsidian Sun—a mysterious cult with plans to seize control of the city from the Port Mafia—wasn't stopped.
The Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia were tasked with stopping the Obsidian Sun before they could unleash chaos on Yokohama and ultimately eliminate them. Rumors suggested the cult had acquired an ability user or ability-influenced technology capable of controlling vast amounts of water—potentially enough to destroy whole buildings, if not entire city blocks. With the Port Mafia's territory close to the waterfront, the threat could no longer be ignored.
Under the cover of night, in the very early hours before dawn, where the moon shone brightly in the velvet dark blue sky, the members of both parties prepared for the joint mission.
Atsushi, Kunikida, and Tanizaki sat in a van, parked discreetly under the cover of trees, while Dazai leaned against the open door, his attention split between watching the shadows and picking on Chuuya through the comm system. Atsushi fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, feeling a mix of nerves and determination.
"I kind of feel bad about the pants," Atsushi suddenly said to the group.
"Huh?" Jun'ichirō peered over at him, confused, while testing the recording unit setup in the van.
"And the shoes," Atsushi added, glancing at Kunikida, who was busy securing the younger man's mic.
Kunikida raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, kid?"
"Just when I transform my legs," he supplied as an explanation.
Jun'ichirō nodded in understanding. "Oh, yeah," he mused out loud. "That must be a hassle. How often do you have to replace your pants and shoes?"
Atsushi pursed his lips before replying, "You don't want to know."
"Right."
Dazai, half-listening while fiddling with his earpiece, chimed in. "Don't worry, Atsushi-kun. The uniforms didn't come from the agency. Kunikida-san paid for them."
Kunikida looked up sharply at his partner, while Atsushi frowned. "That doesn't make me feel any better." His reply, however, was a lost cause considering Kunikida erupted with his usual insults and began throttling Dazai to the point Atsushi could feel the van rock back and forth.
Catching Yosano's eyeroll while trading an amused glance with Jun'ichirō at the familiar chaos, Atsushi felt his phone buzz softly against his leg with a message from Akutagawa. The fact that the Mafioso had begun to act like a real partner, and even close friend, was something that kept bringing a smile to Atsushi's face. He hadn't realized how important it was to have Akutagawa as his friend until it was happening. Now that it was part of their relationship, he had no intentions of letting it go.
After getting kicked out of the orphanage, he had never imagined he'd live to see nineteen, let alone have a job, a family, and friends. It was especially absurd to him that the tiger he had been so afraid of was himself, and that several friends and adoptive family members were ex-Mafia. Even his closest non-agency friend was the rabid dog of the Port Mafia. But life was good. Sure, he still had scars from the past that continued to ache, some days worse than others. The headmaster's voice still haunted him, even if it was easier to tune out now. It was hard to undo many years of abuse, both physical and verbal. Yet time was slowly healing him, with help from his adoptive family, who each understood, having their own scars. He kept his well hidden, even though he knew they wouldn't judge him; embarrassment and perhaps even shame licked his insides at even the thought of anyone seeing his past marked so clearly on his skin. Even so, he leaned into his family's support. He might doubt himself at times, but they had become his strength, including Akutagawa.
Atsushi glanced down at the message received, ignoring the antics of the older agency detectives.
**Stabby Cloth Monster**: I know you're nervous. Stay calm and don't be an idiot and take unnecessary risks.
Apparently, getting closer to Akutagawa meant being mothered by him.
**Jinko the Idiot**: aww you worried about me?
Atsushi could picture the eye roll he'd receive for his reply.
**Stabby Cloth Monster**: Hardly. Just do not wish to have to retrain with a new partner.
**Stabby Cloth Monster**: Besides, Dazai-san would never let me hear the end of it.
Atsushi glanced at Dazai before replying.
**Jinko the Idiot**: true. Dazai-san can be very dramatic. he actually shed tears this morning when i turned down his paperwork.
**Stabby Cloth Monster**: It seems his aversion remains regardless of his employment. He would likely haunt me if you died.
**Jinko the Idiot**: and me, if I died
Sensing an end to the bickering, Atsushi looked up from his phone, hiding his amusement about the topic of their messages.
Said topic turned to Atsushi. "How does Atsushi-kun feel about having Kunikida-san as your partner this time?" Dazai asked in that sing-song way that annoyed Kunikida to no end.
"Fine? I mean..." He caught the scowl on the blonde's face at his questioning lilt, and quickly cleared his throat to try again. "It's been a while since we've partnered up. I think it will be a good learning experience." Atsushi meant what he said, since he had been learning hand-to-hand combat on a regular basis from the ex-math teacher turned detective. Kunikida was skilled in more ways than one, a pool of guidance and knowledge that Atsushi appreciated. He had long since learned to look past the gruff, temperamental exterior. Kunikida was much like the older brother he wished he'd had long before coming to the agency.
Kunikida stared at him for a moment, something unreadable in his face that made Atsushi shift in his seat. Atsushi had sensed, since he had been assigned to be undercover, unease in Kunikida. The odd moment ended and Kunikida gave him a nod, and some of the tension in Atsushi fled.
Dazai lightly pinched Atsushi's cheek, careful to telegraph his movement to the younger man. "Aww, Atsushi-kun and Kunikida-kun are so cute."
Yosano snickered at that, just as Kunikida nearly shouted his name and Chuuya cursed him out over his earpiece. "Dazai!"
Clearly unaffected, Dazai then loudly clapped, the sound ringing sharply in the confined space. He announced, "Okay, boys, it's time we get going."
The mission for that night was split into three groups. Kunikida and Atsushi would slip onto the property, playing the roles of security guards investigating reports of activity at the old water treatment plant. The goal wasn't necessarily to get caught, but if they did, they would be recording audio and observing what they could with the intention of understanding the inner workings of the group's current goal. A bit after that, Akutagawa and Chuuya would slip into the base, hunt for the weapon, and, if needed, create a distraction—not really for Atsushi and Kunikida, but rather to cover for Dazai and Tanizaki, who were to sneak into the inner base set up in the treatment plant. They would record and gather information, going unnoticed as long as possible. On the outside, Yosano, Kenji, and Kyoka would be monitoring and making sure all the data recorded would be collected and saved without a hitch. And if, for some reason, things went remarkably downhill, they would be there as backup.
The ultimate and long-term goal was to gather enough data for Ranpo, on his return from a case on the other side of the country, to deduce where the Obsidian Sun's central hideout was. They were fairly sure the cult had another base inside the city, as well as one outside of Yokohama. From there, another mission would be put together to get every last member. The current, short-term goal that night was to capture whoever and whatever was needed for the group's water weapon, leaving the remaining members to believe the Mafia had been the only attackers.
The four of them slipped out of the van and into the night while the remaining three agents slipped into the van to monitor. The sky above was still dark, with only a faint glow from distant city lights on the horizon. Atsushi both respected and found amusement as Kunikida slipped into his role. His walk was decisive, measured, every footstep sounding just like a security guard on his regular nightly route around the plant would.
Atsushi's eyes took on a feline quality, shining brightly in the night, reflecting the very few street lamps that lit the commercial street along the two blocks on the way towards the old abandoned water treatment plant. He noticed how much darker it got the closer they were to the plant. Seemed like the street lights had been taken out to help keep the activity at the abandoned facility unnoticed. Which for the most part it had gone unnoticed, only one actual call had been made to authorities about some odd noises, at night, in the area. The treatment plant sat not that far from a busy shopping district so Atsushi wasn't sure who would have noticed during the night. Maybe real civilian security rather than him and Kunikida who would be pretending to be said security?
The other question that had been nagging at him was why they hadn't already attacked if they had this ability user or technology. Sitting on a potential weapon for any length of time, in his opinion, could ruin their chances of effectively using it. So why wait? Why hadn't they attacked in the last three months, when an informant claimed they'd had it in their possession for that long?
There were too many questions to ignore the problem. They needed to figure out the plan, stop it, and dismantle the Obsidian Sun completely. The group's almost fanatical hatred for the Port Mafia had become a growing concern. Even though they had never gone out of their way to target civilians, that didn't mean they wouldn't destroy half the city just to take down the Mafia. Personally, Atsushi was starting to find the whole "destroy the city" thing a bit tiresome.
The gate to the treatment plant came into view, and as it did, Atsushi sensed them before he actually saw them melt out of the shadows—Akutagawa and Chuuya. Atsushi was capable of moving in silence, but he couldn't seem to master the skill the Mafia and former Mafia members had at using shadows to their advantage. He was more than a little jealous.
After both groups traded silent acknowledgments, Atsushi and Kunikida broke away and headed for the gate. Dazai gave Atsushi a thumbs up, likely indicating that he was showing more nervousness in his expression than he meant to. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his flashlight and did his best to slip into the role he was meant to play. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find it a little bit exciting.
They entered the main gates and walked past old toolshed doors and a few open areas that contained broken-down vans, and other pieces of equipment he was unfamiliar with. Their flashlight beams sliced through the darkness, casting shadows that danced on the edges of Atsushi's vision.
They kept a steady pace, their footsteps echoing softly off the concrete. Atsushi's senses were on high alert, picking up every shift in the air, every distant clank of old metal. The tension in the air grew thicker with each step, the plant's silent machinery like specters of a forgotten past.
It was just past 3 a.m, and the air felt thick with the damp chill of early morning to Atsushi. Kunikida stepped in beside him, his flashlight cutting , through the blackness like a knife. Atsushi followed, his own beam sweeping across the cracked concrete floor and the rusted machinery looming in the shadows.
Atsushi couldn't help the way his heart raced, each thud in his chest louder than the last. His tiger senses picked up every little sound: the distant drip of water, the groan of ancient pipes, and the unsettling scurry of unseen creatures. It was a symphony of unease, one that set his nerves on edge. It was a struggle to not to move his head as if it was on a swivel to every sound. He kind of wished Dazai would act up and play around over the comm system, anything to break up the oppressive background noises.
"Stay focused," Kunikida's voice was a low murmur, steadying in its usual firmness. Atsushi nodded, though Kunikida probably couldn't see the gesture in the dark.
They moved deeper into the facility, the beams of their flashlights dancing off walls stained with decades of grime and the occasional 'artistic' graffiti. The place smelled of rust and stagnant water, a bitter scent that clung aggressively to the back of Atsushi's throat. As they passed a row of massive tanks, Atsushi's flashlight caught the dull gleam of water within each one.
Everywhere he looked, there was water, which added to the creepy atmosphere that permeated the plant. This place was like a ghost, a shell of what it had once been, and Atsushi couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Why was there all this water when he knew for a fact, having seen pictures of the abandoned plant during the briefing, that should be dry as a bone. It was too odd, too quiet, too still, like the calm before a storm.
"That's... unsettling," Atsushi whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.
Kunikida's eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. "Agreed. Keep an eye out."
Atsushi swallowed, his thoughts drifting to the Obsidian Sun. The group's name was enough to send a shiver creeping down his spine, but it was the abilities of their members that truly terrified him. The fire user—whoever they were—was the last person Atsushi wanted to encounter.
Memories of searing pain and hot pokers from the orphanage surfaced, making his skin prickle and old scars ache. Even though his regenerative ability could handle burns, the fear was still there, deeply ingrained.
Then there was Kawamoto Akiro, the one with the intoxication ability. Atsushi didn't relish the idea of dealing with that either, but if he had to choose between being burned or feeling drunk, he'd take the latter any day. He'd had enough of fire.
The silence between them stretched as they continued their search, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty plant. Atsushi's thoughts kept drifting back to the water, to the way it seemed to be everywhere, lurking in every tank, every pool, as if it were waiting for something. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that something was lurking just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to strike.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He had to stay focused, had to keep his head in the game. Not get lost in his own mental maze where the headmaster's ghost liked to hunt.
Kunikida suddenly stopped, holding up a hand to signal Atsushi to do the same. Atsushi froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened for any sign of danger. The sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance was the only thing he could hear.
Kunikida motioned for Atsushi to follow him as they moved toward one of the larger tanks. They had to be careful, had to stay quiet. Getting caught wouldn't be ideal.
Atsushi's grip tightened on his flashlight as they approached the tank, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement. The tension was almost unbearable, the silence pressing down on them like a physical weight. He could feel his pulse in his ears, could hear the blood rushing through his veins. Every nerve in his body was on edge, ready to react at the slightest provocation.
As they reached the tank, Kunikida signaled for Atsushi to stay put while he inspected the area. Atsushi nodded, his body tense with anticipation as he watched Kunikida move away from him. The older man gingerly moved to investigate a few crates that sat out of place near the tank. One was open, packing filler littered the floor around it. After a moment in which nothing happened beside Kunikida peering inside the crates, he waved a hand for Atsushi to continue on with him.
They moved forward cautiously, their steps almost synchronized as they peered into the darkness, stretched out before them, with their flashlights. The place was deathly silent, save for the sound of them breathing and what Atsushi's heightened senses picked up, each one more unsettling than the last.
As they neared the end of a corridor, Atsushi's flashlight flickered over something that made him freeze. "Kunikida-san," he whispered urgently, the tension in his voice unmistakable.
"What is it?" Kunikida asked, his own light shifting to where Atsushi's had pointed.
Atsushi took a deep breath, steeling himself against a mixture of anxious and excited nerves. "I think... there are people up ahead." He tilted his head as he listened and sniffed the air. "the water smells fresh."
He kept his beam on a few cigarette butts that looked fresh compared to the grimy passageway. It was the clearly recent footprint in the dust and mire next to them that had given him pause initially before he had picked up cologne and voices.
Kunikida's beam joined his, and he asked, "How many?" Atsushi knew he was asking what he could hear. He felt a sense of pride at Kunikida's belief in him.
"I think... three. They seem to be working." Atsushi was picking up swearing and grunting along with someone giving directions.
"Alright, let's tread carefully." Kunikida's voice was lower than before but easily picked up by Atsushi. "Let's see if we can get a good view."
Atsushi nodded and followed the older man. They crept around pipes, making sure to get a bit of distance from where Atsushi knew the voices were coming from. Once they had circled around, they closed back in finding a few larger pipes they were able to quietly climb on and hide, allowing them to see past another group of pipes to what looked to be an area of activity for the Obsidian Sun members. Each member wore a mask that covered half their face, leaving the nose and mouth bare, each designed with a black sun over a white background. A few were inverted, with the sun being white. All were different, the sun in different positions and sizes, likely so they could differentiate between each other.
Atsushi could make out three men, just as he had guessed. They appeared to be constructing something, but neither detective could tell what it was. There was banter and swearing being exchanged. Atsushi found it interesting how no names were used, and he shared a glance with Kunikida, which told him he had also noticed. It didn't seem like much of anything important was discussed—not at first. The two detectives sat in cramped and awkward positions, listening and hoping something useful would be discussed.
For Kunikida, there was the temptation to move further into the large, expansive base for something more helpful than the useless members he was stuck with currently. Atsushi was feeling much the same way, thinking perhaps they should see if they could find someone else to spy on. He scrunched up his noise, not appreciating the conversation on food and bathroom habits; apparently, someone had food poisoning, and the rest knew based on the stink the man left behind. So far, Dazai, overhearing the conversation thanks to the newer comm system designed for spying, had made his own remarks. Atsushi hadn't bothered to question where the new comm system and any other gadget came from; some things were best left unknown.
Both men nearly sighed with relief when a discussion began about the actual weapon. There seemed to be a disagreement about where to set it up for deployment. This was the kind of thing they had hoped to pick up on. Atsushi's ears perked up at the mention of fresh water. So that's why they hadn't deployed the weapon yet—it needed a reliable source. It all made sense now, the full tanks, the choice of location.
Atsushi once again traded a look with Kunikida, knowing the same thoughts had occurred to him. Atsushi knew he wasn't the brightest, but he had been striving to sharpen his reasoning skills. He wanted to be more than just brute strength—he wanted to prove he could think on his feet too. That he could do more than foolishly, and impusively, jump in head first.
A fourth man suddenly joined the group and gave orders, resulting in the original three grabbing their project and tools to move it somewhere else.
The two detectives carefully detached themselves from the pipes when Atsushi felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. There was that feeling again that something was wrong or someone was watching them. His eyes turned to slits as he surveyed all around them, Kunikida standing silent beside him, watching him. He strained to detect any sign of movement, his senses on high alert, but found nothing. Frustration gnawed at him as he shook his head at Kunikida's questioning gaze. Was his mind playing tricks on him?"
The older man nodded and turned to decide what direction they would head. Atsushi stiffened as he caught a new scent—unfamiliar body odor mixed with stale deodorant.
"Let's move on, ah—" Kunikida abruptly cut off. Atsushi opened his mouth to warn the other man, but before he could speak, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. The world tilted violently, as though gravity had shifted, and Atsushi felt his body betray him. His chest tightened, making it hard to breathe, and his vision flickered between gray and darkness. His knees buckled, sending him crashing to the concrete, hard enough to know it would bruise.
Thankfully, he fell first on his knees, avoiding any worrying degree of head injury. The damage he had taken resulted in blood in his eye, a copper taste in his mouth. With a groan, He tried to move his head, but it felt heavy and stuck to the floor. His vision swam, the light glaring painfully in his eyes. Shadows seemed to twist and shift around him, and panic began to creep in as he struggled to focus on anything solid.
Atsushi could hear Dazai talking in his ear, but it seemed garbled like he was underwater, and then there was harsh laughter and someone saying something that was also nonsensical no matter how hard he tried to decipher what he was hearing. Worryingly, because he was unable to see him, Atsushi had no idea if Kunikida was okay. He hoped the man he viewed as an older brother had somehow avoided suffering the same fate.
Before he could think any further about their predicament, a figure came into his line of sight. They were wearing the black-and-white Obsidian Sun mask with an expression that made Atsushi swallow hard. He felt himself scooped up and thrown over a shoulder, his stomach flopping viciously from the action. He barely got an indignant noise of protest out before his vision went black and unconsciousness slammed into him.
Notes:
Poetry line from Sleepers The by Walt Whitman
Not an expert at Japanese honorifics so forgive me.
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