"Boss, you called?" Chūya asked, as he stepped into Mori's office. It's been several years since he joined the Port Mafia, yet in all those years, even after becoming a sub-executive, never has he been summoned by himself into the boss's presence. Usually, he was with someone else, reporting about how their mission underwent. Most of the time, of course, it is Dazai who accompanies him to Mori's floor. Speaking of Dazai, where did that Mackerel vanish again? He let out a silent snort at the thought of Dazai still at his apartment complex, ditching work for the Nth time; Or maybe, off trying to commit suicide again.
Chūya's primary work partner, Osamu Dazai: youngest executive to ever exist throughout the branches of the Mafia; Known for his psychological manipulation, intelligence, and deceit, perceived as the 17-year-old 'Demon Prodigy'.
But if Chūya were to describe the brunet, he would add in 'annoying', 'scoundrel', what else describes an idiot? Unfortunately, Dazai and Chūya's special abilities compliment each other well. 'No Longer Human', a power that cancels out all other special abilities belonging to Dazai, has an effect on Chūya's 'For The Tainted Sorrow'; It comes in handy especially when Chūya uses 'Corruption', a power in which Chūya himself cannot take control over.
Once he uses 'Corruption', he won't stop destroying the surrounding enemies with his gravitational power until his body can't support the amount of damage he himself takes. In which, he will die if not for Dazai's ability to cancel out his 'Corruption' with his own ability. Therefore, forming the most powerful duo in all the Mafia, known as 'Soukoku', which translates to 'Double Black'.
Mori's eyes directed them towards the source of the voice, taking a break from the golden-bordered documents he was previously reading with seemingly great intensity, which looked quite important in Chūya's eyes.
"Ah, yes, here you are, Chūya. Come, please take a seat," Mori beckoned towards the chair facing him and his desk as he folded his hands in front of him. As Chūya took a seat on the old, victorian chair, he took a quick glance at the 200 square meter space, perfectly fit for the Boss of such an extensive organization. The room was considerably empty, except for the tall bookshelf behind Mori himself, and, certainly, his desk full of: papers, documents, and letters sealed with fancy wax designs.
On the east side of his office was a grandfather clock, which showed the time as 4:13pm on the sixth of October. The desk sat quite close to the bookshelf, so that if any book fell from the ten meter tall structure, it would certainly take a trip to Mori's head before gravity pulled it to the floor. Towards Chūya's left was the west side of the Mafia skyscraper, the wall was completely glass, allowing an utterly magnificent view of the sun currently setting into the Yokohama sea due to being on the uppermost floor of the building. The redhead was mesmerized for a moment as he gazed into the glimmering waves lapping ashore onto the golden colored sand.
The Sun was now only half visible, but still set the water, originally hues of blue and purple, ablaze. The sky and sea were transformed into a lavish mixture of luminous and radiant shades of many different colors. Chūya couldn't help from losing himself in the divine scenery. The evening grandeur was a cascade of colors, enchanting Chūya's sapphire eyes. Time seemed to stop for him as he gaped at the serene view unfolded before him. But, despite the tantalizing outlook, he unconsciously felt a sense of foreboding.
"Chūya, Chūya? Nakahara-san?" It was Mori's words that took him out of his trance. Chūya quickly realized the boss had been attempting to speak to him for several moments now. He instantly jerked his head to face Mori, his expression uneasy.
"Boss, I apologize deeply for my actions, please forgive me," Chūya spoke with a slight bow of his head, both hands resting on his lap. His voice hinted at a slight embarrassment for not having heard his own boss trying to get his attention.
"No worries," Mori's gaze seemed to unintentionally pierce through Chūya's soul, then slightly softened. "The sunset is certainly different from so high up, eh? Well, at this point, I've spent countless sunsets sitting here," he shrugged, his crimson scarlet scarf falling a few inches down his shoulder. Chūya noticed a ring on Mori's right hand, the dark obsidian shank contrasting the glimmering blood-red ruby gemstone placed in between the skeletal fingered prongs.
As the late afternoon sunshine spilled onto the twinkling crystal, it reflected bright red onto the Black-Oak table. Chūya found himself staring intently at his boss' fashion sense without reason. Perhaps, it was due to the reason the jewelry and outfit choice were both on the more unusual side of what's called 'normal'.
Mori started the discussion , "Now, I called you here for a reason. You have a new mission. This mission concerns the 'Book', which, as you know, is currently hidden by the 'Decay'." Chūya raised an eyebrow, suddenly seeming to have interest in the mission. He decided to remind himself of the purpose of the 'Book' once more. Consisting of hundreds of thousands of Universes, in which there's a version of every single human in each one, the Book has the power to alter reality. Chūya himself, he thought, is currently conscious in a Universe created by the Book.
This, in a way, is a strange feeling since, in each Universe contained within the Book, there's a different version of yourself doing different things at every second. After one writes something down on the pages of the Book, it'll be reality; this tremendous power can change a whole Universe if the user wishes to do so. This, in fact, is the reason the Port Mafia has to get their hands on the book before their enemy, the 'Decay of the Divine', has a chance to rework their existence. After a few moments, Chūya looks up at Mori, who seems to be filing through a stack of papers, trying to find the right folder.
"Here," Mori starts, "This is the suspected hiding location of the Book, of course, many details are still unclear. But there's still a line, although a blurry one, leading to the exact coordinates of our ending goal. I expect you to seek out the Book and bring it back to me, understand?" Mori then proceeds to hand the files of intel to Chūya.
"I perceive, Boss," Chūya vocalized with a neutral tone. He stood up, and before starting towards the grand wooden door, took a slight bow.
"Nakahara-san," the Boss suddenly murmured, before Chūya had the chance of completely going through the door.
"How's being the vessel of Arahabaki, the God of Calamity, been going?" Before Chūya had a chance to reply, Mori continued, "Arahabaki is the reason you have the ability of gravity manipulation, yes? I imagine maintaining such a powerful ability at age 17 comes with quite the difficulty." Chūya was taken aback, seeming surprised at the sudden remark.
"Nothing out of the ordinary, sire," he responded with an uncertain tone. Mori then nodded, allowing Chūya to finally leave the room. The tension built up from the conversation was relieved once he exited Mori's office.
The Boss seemed rather strange today, he thought to himself. Now, where could his mission be located?
Chūya's digital watch read 11 o'clock on the dot as he pulled his greaser jacket tighter, shivering, and noticed the smoke coming out of his mouth every time he exhaled. He tipped his Fedora at a slightly downwards angle, blocking his azul eyes from the harsh breeze which seemed to be stalking him. His tar-black boots crunched the fallen leaves beneath his feet, scaring off a few nearby Ravens.
The fog today was extremely thick, he noted, making it difficult to see more than eight feet in front of him as he continued on his mission. Every once in a while, a small rodent, such as a rat or mouse, would dart across his path. Far off, he could hear the echoes of a wolf howling, seeming so lonesome and solitary in this cruel world, as if the wolf were crying for help. The forest obviously sustained many living species, yet, Chūya got a rather dead feeling as he took in his surroundings, staring at the seemingly black tree trunks cornering him on all sides.
Despite being surrounded by Swiss Pine, he could still make out red and umber leaves littering the forest floor through moonlight from the full moon pouring through cracks in the vegetation, illuminating his fiery orange and shoulder-length hair as well. Today was the 13th on a Friday, yet Chūya seemed unfazed; Moreover, he was too busy freezing to death than noticing a detail as small as today's date.
The Parâng Mountains sure were cold this time of year, colder than usual, at least. Transylvania's temperatures in October usually ranged from six to eighteen degrees Celsius, with a sufficient amount of sunshine.
As Chūya looked towards the tops of the mountain range, he could see snow-capped peaks. Can ye believe it, snow in October? He let out an angry and sarcastic snarl, not like anyone was around to hear him. Chūya turned his attention back to his GPS tracker, the screen unintentionally creating a light source for him as he made his way through the darkness.
Despite being sure of heading in the right direction up the rocky mountainside and nearing the correct coordinates, he still couldn't see any structure suspected to be the hiding place of the Book the Decay would designate. After all, an elite group of assassins sure wouldn't choose an obvious or noticeable location to store their most valuable asset. All he could spectate at the moment was fog and dead branches littering the gray forest floor. Everywhere seemed to look the exact same, it was as if he was walking around in circles.
The only reassurance he possessed was his GPS tracker, making sure he was going towards the exact coordinates Boss had instructed from the collected intel.
After what felt like an eternity of following his GPS, which Chūya's watch proved to be 44 minutes, a seemingly abandoned structure surrounded by mist came into view. The wooden and stone cottage seemed to consist of only one level. The chimney was leaking smoke into the chilled air, so someone has been here recently, or is still in there. The structure was in a grassy clearing, yet the vegetation and vines growing onto the building showed no signs of caretaking.
Is this where the Decay of the Divine was suspected to be keeping the Book? Chūya's mind was buzzing with confusion; Why such a small, insignificant place? Surely, there must've been a mistake from the gathered intel? He glanced at the correct coordinates and then at his GPS tracker. No, this was definitely the correct place.
Chūya looped around to the front of the cottage and carefully walked up the old, broken-down steps. His footsteps were professionally light and careful as that of a trained assassin, as to not arouse the enemy's suspicion in case they had guards inside on stand by. Anyhow, who wouldn't put up guards to protect such a valuable treasure wanted by countless illegal organizations across the world? The ginger placed his fingers on the doorknob, getting ready to see whatever was waiting for him inside this shady cottage.
"Chibi! Took you long enough! I was starting to fall asleep, did you take a detour to a hat store or something on your way here?" A young boy, who looked to be Chūya's age, was whining as he sat at the table visible to him as the door creaked open. He had bandages wrapped around his right eye, around his neck, and looped tightly around both his arms. His suit and tie was neatly put on which, in fact, complimented his fluffy brown hair well.
Chin resting on both his hands propped up onto the table, Dazai had a slight frown on his face to mask his amused expression at the sight of Chūya's surprise to see him of all people, in a place like this. Chūya's face was the definition of visible confusion, he was sputtering and pointing a finger at the brunet, who sat quietly while waiting for his partner's response. In the corner was a lit fire that caused dancing shadows around the room, that must've been the source of the smoke.
"W-WHAT THE HECK MAN? WHAT'RE YER DOING HERE, YE TALL FREAK? And for yer information, my hat is perfectly fine, way more fashionable than yer freaking bandages!" Chūya snapped. He was quick to lose his temper, he always was. "I'm on a very important mission right now, just so you know! I need to secure the Book for-," Chūya suddenly shut his mouth, remembering he wasn't supposed to tell anyone about his mission. Dazai smirked, blowing his bangs out of his left, unbandaged, eye.
"Oh! Did Mr. Fancy Hat just accidentally spill his secret? How devastating, I'd feel so bad in your shoes!" Dazai was teasing Chūya, who at the moment, was ready to explode with anger. "Don't forget, shortie, be careful not to yell. Who knows how many enemies are surrounding us? Plus, my ears are about to pop off due to your incoherent screaming!" Dazai's tone was sarcastic, which, he knew, would enrage Chūya even more.
"Why ye little," Chūya's attempt at hissing started to shift back into yelling, "I'm still growing damnit, leave me alone!" It was obvious Chūya was fuming and dumbfounded as to why Dazai sat in this cottage which is presumed to be hiding the Book. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be that Osamu Dazai, Port Mafia's youngest executive, could be siding with the Decay of the Divine? Chūya tried to keep his emotions under control; he took a deep breath and put on a neutral expression.
"So, what do ye want? What the heck do ye think yer doing here?" he questioned.
"If you worry too much you'll go bald," Dazai waved dismissively, but then put on a smug grin, "Well, if you're so curious, I was told to come on Boss' orders to help on this 'mission' of yours"
Chūya snorted with his hands on his hips, "And I'm supposed to believe anything that comes out of that filthy mouth of yer's?"
Dazai put on a fake, offended, face, "Chibi! You didn't! You wouldn't!" Chūya finally had enough, so he decided to ignore Dazai for a minute, while scanning his surroundings.
The cottage looked broken down and abandoned from the outside, yet from the inside, the unsettling feeling increased by infinity. To be bleak, at first glance nothing seemed abnormal, but a disturbing feeling soon creeped into Chūya's soul. Dust and cobwebs littered the remnants of the furniture and corners. The only working light source other than the fireplace was in the living room. Actually, 'working' doesn't seem to be the right word to describe the object. It was constantly flickering on and off, leaving the responsibility of lighting to the full moon's aureole.
Everything seemed normal for an unused cottage, yet, Chūya couldn't help thinking the place emitted an almost demonic feeling. Dazai's toffee eye seemed close to a deep shade of crimson when illuminated by the moonlight. This unwittingly sent shivers down Chūya's spine.
"So," Chūya's glare traveled back to Dazai's voice, "Are you helping me find the Book or not?" Chūya let out a 'tch' and crossed his arms, seemingly unwilling to answer his question.
"'Yer helping me find the Book or not?' Well, does it look like I have a choice, Mackerel?" Chūya snarled. His statement turned Dazai's face back into a manipulative sneer.
"Exactly as I planned," he taunted, while still looking at Chūya's aggressive expression. Honestly, he doesn't know how Dazai always manages to plan the future perfectly and accurately. Did the Boss really ask Dazai to assist him in this mission, or did he just break orders as usual and managed to find this place high up in the Parâng Mountains on his own? And if Dazai indeed found this place in the middle of nowhere, what's the point in helping Chūya instead of slacking off like usual?
What's unfortunate for his enemies is Dazai's flaw is that he's Dazai, the most intelligent and manipulative being in all the Mafia, no, maybe even the world at this rate.
"Lead the way, Bandaged Freak," Chūya huffed, "Since ye seem to know this place more than I do."
"I haven't the faintest of ideas what the Hat Rack is talking about, oh, maybe it's because you're such a midget, I couldn't hear you!" Dazai mocked Chūya as they flipped over old papers and filed through cabinets in pursuit of the Book. Chūya was foraging through a closet near the fireplace when Dazai made his teasing remark.
"Dazai, I will freaking kill ye if ye don't shut yer trap! I'm still growing!" Chūya screeched.
"Hmm, I think you've been leaving beans out of your diet since you're still so short," Dazai continued at the petite mafioso. "Maybe, add some greek yogurt as well, I've heard the vitamins help growth," he said this in a sing-song yet innocent voice. Chūya just grunted in reply, not wanting to take part in Dazai's shenanigans anymore. After approximately 20 minutes of searching and coming up empty handed, Dazai suggested an idea. He shifted himself so that he's standing right next to the redhead.
"Hey Chūya, how 'bout we go and take a look upstairs, hm? How's that sound? People unconsciously hide their possessions not within first glance in a room, but somewhere less obvious, like another floor or perhaps in bushes or fences. Although, I'm positive nobody will be stupid enough to hide something as important as the Book outside in the middle of a forest. Human minds are quite simple to understand speaking from experience," Dazai's eyes flashed vermillion for a brief moment before shaking his head. "My bad, I didn't mean to go on such a rant," he corrected himself.
"Yeah yea, sure let's go and get this over with, I just want to go home and," suddenly Chūya had to process what Dazai had just said. "Wait a minute, what did ye say? Repeat that one more time?"
Dazai shrugged and simplified his words, "Let's go upstairs to look for the Book, the Decay must've hidden it there if we couldn't find it in this one-room ground floor. Unless, of course, the Boss got the location wrong and we're wasting our time here."
"No, no, yer mental or something? Have ye finally cracked? There is no upstairs, Mackerel. I'm certain I perceived this cottage to be one story and that's it," Chūya stated matter-of-factly with one eyebrow raised.
"Oh, well is that so, Chibikko?" Dazai shot back, "Then what's a staircase doing right behind you, huh?" He was unfazed.
Startled at his words, Chūya shot his body around and indeed, there was a set of Mahogany stairs twirling up to what seemed like a second floor. The wood seemed to be chipped and weathered in certain areas, this cottage clearly hasn't been tended to in a long time. Yet, everything seemed to be left exactly where it would be. What made the people who lived here leave in such a rush?
"N-no, this can't be," Chūya trailed off, mumbling. "I could've sworn this cottage was one room and one story, how… how did I not notice another floor? A-am I, was I hallucinating? That's right, there was an extraordinary amount of fog tonight, heavens know why." Chūya's mind came to the conclusion that the thick fog hid the second story from his view. Regardless, how did he not notice a staircase in a singular room? That would've obviously been the odd-one-out.
In the midst of Chūya's confusion, Dazai spoke up again, "Well, Hat Rack, are you coming or not?" The brunet was already half-way up the stairs as he called down to Chūya.
"Wait up, Mackerel, ain't no way I'm letting ye up there first!" The ginger had to scamper up the stairs to catch up with Dazai. As they ascended the stairs with Dazai leading despite the redhead's protests, Chūya noticed that there wasn't a trace of light to be seen at the top. Dust particles danced around the two boys' feet as they climbed the last few steps.
The second level consisted of a singular hallway connecting two miniature rooms. The hallway seemed rather… rather long considering the area of the first floor. The wooden floorboards creaked as Chūya followed Dazai into the room towards their left.
"Oi, Dazai! How can ye even see anything in this place?" Chūya was struggling to catch up to Dazai due to the lack of moonlight within the hallway. It was as if they were surrounded by everything but at the same time, cornered by nothing. Dazai ignored his comment and pushed open the wooden door leading into the room.
"Is this better, Chibi? Now there's light from the window over there, no need to be scared anymore," he grinned like an idiot as he started searching the room. There was a bed and a desk with a few drawers built into it. The rest of the room? Dust.
"I have repeated myself god knows how many times, I'm still growing I ain't staying small forever! Ye better hold yer tongue next time, or I might just rip it off myself," the ticked off expression couldn't conceal itself any longer from Chūya's face.
"You know, I'm of a higher ranking than you within the Mafia, better watch how you speak to your superior," Dazai heckled as he flipped the blankets inside-out. "And did you just admit that you're small, hm?" Dazai had a sneer on his face, he enjoyed angering the redhead as much as he enjoyed slacking off. Who knows how he made it to the executive rank with his espiègleries? Chūya looked about ready to explode with vexation, which Dazai distinguished well.
The dark-haired mafioso decided to take Chūya's mind off his insults before he had the chance to actually break his ears off with his screeching, "Well, time to go to the other room! Oh, how unfortunate, the Book isn't hidden in this room… a whole waste of ten precious minutes if I do say so myself."
Chūya sighed, his sapphire eyes closing for an instant before they fluttered open again.
"Lead the way, suicidal maniac," he snarled as he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.
"My pleasure, Slug," the brunet retorted. He allowed the darkness to swallow him again as he strolled through the battered door with Chūya trailing close behind him. The only way Chūya managed to successfully tail Dazai was due to the tap-tap of the Mackerel's Molten-Gaveno boots. After a few short seconds, the two boys were at the door of the additional room. Dazai, who couldn't care less about the awful condition of the area, mercilessly shoved the door open.
The other side showed a mirror image of the first room, with a bed and a desk. Chūya frowned, well that was surely peculiar. The brown-haired boy held the door open for the redhead, who stepped in without hesitation.
Something was wrong, very wrong. Instead of a bed and a desk, there was nothing. Negative, there was red; Everywhere was blood-red, sanguineous, to be precise. It took a few moments for Chūya's eyes to adjust to the bright and fiery atmosphere.
Tears formed around his pupils from the blazing Inferno, his neelam eyes reflected sparks of fire that polluted the Abyss. Far off into the distance, or maybe, even right next to him, only God could tell, Chūya heard the screeching of predatory birds. Whinnies and trots could be perceived echoing through this empty, yet full, atmosphere.
Oh, how violent, how painful their screams were as they projected into his ears. The redhead was more than mortified as he stared at the infinite Netherworld unfolding before him, with seemingly no end. Suddenly, Chūya endured an agonizing pain that struck him on both his calves. His eyes darted down towards the dripping pool of blood underneath him created by two monstrous claws seemingly spawned through the netherrack.
The inky nails dug deep into his skin, immobilizing him due to the pain. Chūya stared in terror at the bony and dehydrated skin of the arms rooting him to the spot. The shriveled being latched and dug deeper and deeper into his muscles, causing incoherent pain to shoot throughout his entire body.
He grimaced while his brain was still processing the predicament he was in. So far, this was not as bad as compared to what he went through working at the Mafia. Memories of the after-effects of using 'Corruption' suddenly intruded his mind without permission from his consciousness; His body was always scarred and burnt due to the burden of using such an output of his gravity manipulation. But still, what the heck just happened? Wait a minute, where was the suicidal maniac?
"YO DAZAI WHERE ARE YE?" Chūya's voice was immediately swallowed by the shrieks of the many monstrous creatures that seemed to be eyeing the young ginger as if he were prey.
Suddenly, a hand was placed onto his shoulder, causing Chūya to whip his head around in a startled manner. What he witnessed was more than a surprise to him.
It was the Mackerel. Wait, no, it wasn't Dazai but at the same time surely was Dazai. His signature bandages still wrapped around his right eye and fastened onto his arms plus neck all told Chūya's eyes that it was indeed the brunet. But his soul knew otherwise, for Dazai's uncovered eye was malevolent red and seemed to look right through his soul.
"Oi, Dazai, help me get out of this thing's grasp will ye?" He said this while nodding towards the two hands jabbing deeply into his flesh. What Chūya then noticed made his throat go dry. Sticking through Dazai's fluffy brown hair were two wine-red horns that fit perfectly with the Hellscape surrounding them.
Even more frightening, the dark-haired boy had two rather large wings jutting out from his back, intensifying Chūya's terror to the maximum.
"Dazai, hey, what happened? What's wrong, there's… there's," he trailed off without finishing his sentence, not knowing how to describe the being he currently saw in front of him. It couldn't be Dazai, it can't. As much of a bastard Dazai was, he'd always save Chūya from danger when they'd go out on missions. Yet, the being in front of him didn't bother lending a hand despite Chūya's state.
"What, something wrong?" Dazai's voice was cold and lacked emotion. Before his partner had the chance to respond, a black pitchfork surrounded by a glowing crimson energy of some sort pierced through Chūya's solar plexus, causing blood to drip down from his lips. His cerulean eyes went wide, staring at his fresh wound, as more drops of blood contributed to the previous river of red liquid inching down his neck, which further down its journey, joined with the blood still leaking from his calves. Whilst his gaze traveled back up only to discover that his own partner was the one who had caused him this fatal injury.
"Chibi, you do realize that if you don't die while you have the chance, Arahabaki is going to infest your consciousness and you'll suffer for all eternity, right? The God of Calamity surely ain't going to give your body a chance to rest," Dazai was shaking his head slowly, "You'll be a threat to the world; I surely wouldn't want to see you destroy the whole world by launching black holes everywhere. Yes, I understand it wouldn't be you, it would be Arahabaki, right? I'm sure that's who you would blame it on, hm? Well fortunately for you, that wouldn't matter, for nobody would be left standing to judge you," the bandaged boy narrowed his eye as he finished his sentence.
"And you know what else? The Decay of the Divine isn't real. I was the one who made it up using the Book. Yes, I am indeed in possession of the precious 'Book' you were seeking. Don't even bother fighting back Chibikko, abilities don't work in this place."
He knew that by now, Chūya was in no condition to make out a single word he said. The blistering heat started to darken Chūya's skin, as his body wasn't used to these drastically high temperatures as Dazai's was. Dazai towered over the redhead, who was currently kneeling on the scorched ground, hacking up mouthfuls of blood without control.
When Chūya mustered up enough strength to slightly avert his gaze towards the brunet for his predicted last moments, Dazai's facial expression said it all. It was of pure hatred. He didn't understand. What had happened to him? Dazai was usually the one out of the Soukoku duo teasing others, and, although Chūya hates him with every ounce of his energy, he couldn't help but put his trust in the Mackerel.
Maybe it was because after years of relying on each other and countless times of saving each other from pending doom, it just shifted into a habit, a state of nature. Yet, those dark eyes read of nothing but disgust, as if Chūya were a totally different being just from being the vessel of a God. Yes, he'd known for a while now that something wasn't right with his ability.
As of a few months ago, he'd accidentally damaged himself multiple times with condensed gravity, but he continued to be in denial. He didn't want to accept the fact that within this Universe, he was going to become a killing machine whether he liked it or not. His expression was still tainted with pain and regret; Was Dazai doing this as a favor for him? Or, was he simply doing this out of pure joy? No… that's not it.
"Chūya," Dazai suddenly kneeled down so now that he was on eye level with the short ginger, "In case you're not aware of this fact, in another Universe, Soukoku still exists. Understand? It's not the end, this is merely just the end of you, Nakahara Chūya is still existent," his tone was suddenly serious with a hint of hoarse vocalization.
The fire around the two boys seemed to fade away, it was as if the two were in an empty chamber. But no, the two boys were still rooted to the same spot. Chūya was slowly bleeding to death, but he made no urge to resist. The pair continued to stare at each other for what seemed like a millennia, which of course, was not the case in reason Chūya's life energy was rapidly draining.
Dazai's wings slightly twitched as his coffee eye reflected his partner's agonizing expression followed by last words.
"The Devil, you're the Devil."
As Dazai, now in his human form except for his right claw, made his way out of the cottage and stepped out into the 3am cool night air, he exhaled, causing smoke to escape his mouth. As he continued down the mountain through the condensed forest, the brunet came across a vast lake. The boy's crimson scarlet scarf kept him warm from the passing breeze. The full moon's light made its way towards the ruby ring he wore, the crystal carefully placed between the skeletal fingered prongs.
The dark obsidian shank looped around his pinky claw blended in with his dark suit perfectly while still having a slight darker shade of lust. The stars reflected onto the calm water was absolutely marvelous and dazzling beyond words. The Carina-Saggitarius arm of the Milky Way was clearly visible against the luminous night sky, illuminating the whole forest. A gazillion fiery orbs decorated his outlook as Dazai gazed up at the sky.
"I did it, I succeeded in eliminating the threat. I… I killed my partner. Wait, no, stop thinking about it," the suicidal maniac was now murmuring to himself while losing his eyes at the night sky, "he's… still alive. Chūya is definitely still alive in another Universe."
At this claim, he glanced down towards the fashionable yet ancient-looking manuscript tucked between his left arm and his waist. Wait, why was he even saying this? There's no reason to care about Chibi at all, no, surely not at all. His unbandaged umber eye slightly widened. Why was he even thinking about the Slug? Suddenly, his mind thought back to all of the missions Soukoku had been through; Fighting and deeming victory in the Dragonhead Conflict, seizing over five hundred enemy bases throughout the years for the Port Mafia… Dazai and Chūya's list of accomplishments could go on forever.
Now, there would be no more adding to the extensive list. "But, it's over, in another Universe, I'm sure Chūya and I would be setting a bank on fire right about now," Dazai's laugh came out strained.
Before he knew it, his right claw had seized himself by the throat, making him fall to his knees in front of the lake reflected with celestial orbs. Blood spurted out from his mouth and his sharp, black nails were digging deeper into his scarred neck, tainting his bandages burgundy. The Book slipped from his grasp and fell into the lake, leaving ripples that ruined the fabulous reflections.
"Ghluh, agh, ah… ah," the brunet was trying desperately to catch his breath, despite throwing up more and more blood. His nails didn't dislodge themselves from his laryngopharynx. Dazai's mind was a jumbling mess as of now.
WHAT AM I DOING? I'm going to… I'm going to end up strangling myself. Shoot, move, hand, for heaven's sake just move!
Dazai's body suddenly began to feel weak, he fell sideways onto the dirt ground, his hair slightly touching the water. The asphyxia was kicking in, his vision was becoming more blurry by the second. But, why was he doing this? He surely didn't feel any guilt in taking Chūya away from this Universe… right?
What he saw in his last moments wasn't of the spectacular galaxial view before him, but of a short ginger smiling with his ugly Fedora hat after accusing the bandaged freak of awful combat skills compared to his.
As the late hours continued to flow, the waters of the lake in the Parâng Mountains were calm.
The stars were reflected brilliantly against the stillness of the lake, lighting up the scenery with twinkles and deemed even more extraordinary than a sunset in Yokohama.
Not a creature stirred within the silently reflected images on the reservoir. But soon, the extravagant reflections were to be partially polluted by a deep hue of red, almost that of blood.