Chapter Text
“Are you kidding me Dazai?!”
“I’m not, Chuuya. I’m one hundred percent serious.”
“But—“
“Chuuya, I know how hard this is for you. I don’t seem like it but I too find it difficult. We have to accept the reality. We can’t go back anymore.”
When he saw Dazai’s unusual display of resignation, Chuuya felt as though reality had hit him hard.
Dazai was someone Chuuya had long acknowledged to be so intelligent that he trusted his words, because when he claimed something couldn’t happen, it actually wouldn’t. Especially, when Chuuya could easily tell he sounded grave like someone who had come solely to bring news of friends who had passed away.
Still, even though he knew that Dazai was being genuine this time, he felt like he couldn’t and unwilling to accept such reality. Never again. He could never lose his friends and family again!
(Right now, he was still finding it tough to just accept it, but like every time after going through painful experiences, Chuuya would always and eventually get over it. He was simply that strong—the strongest human being, Dazai would say).
Little did he know, beneath the facade of indifference, Dazai was also experiencing the same emotion—albeit one that was more complex yet still seemed muted due to who Dazai Osamu was.
As was typical with him, Dazai was unable to fully express and comprehend the feeling as he was always bad at it. His greater expertise lied in devising plans, manipulating people, or predicting future events.
Nevertheless, this dismal feeling intensified when they thought they would no longer be able to see their friends and home anymore. Armed Detective Agency, Port Mafia… Their world might appear harsh and brutal to ordinary citizens, however it was the place in which they constructed their own life stories, establish made up families, and forge new kinds of meaningful relationships.
Who wouldn’t be upset to know what they’d worked so hard to build for years was taken away in such an abrupt manner? In contrast to the length of time they spent trying to construct everything in their lives until it became a formidable fortress, the well-constructed stronghold was all able to be destroyed into pieces in a matter of seconds.
And it was all down to one unfortunate evening that everything turned out this way.
——
Chuuya blearily opened his eyes when he felt harsh sunlight shine through them, blinding him as soon as he sought to open his blue eyes that matched the clear sky above him.
Chuuya tried to sit up, supporting himself with his elbow as he winced when he started to feel a headache coming on. He must have hurt his head when he fell unconscious.
His mind was still jumbled as it hadn’t even been 5 minutes since he woke up to fully digest everything. It felt like it was still loading as he blinked his eyes a few times, gradually focusing on what was in front of him. His sight was still slightly blurry, but it got clearer the more he blinked.
Eventually, enough clarity returned to his eyesight to show that he was in what appeared to be an abandoned park. It was evident from the way it was deserted and unmaintained; there were broken seats in the park’s corner and in the middle, also there were tree branches strewn all over what seemed to be extremely dry and cracked ground.
This was all admittedly strange, because he’d just now remembered it was evening when he got to the mission site with who he usually called the waste of bandages. He didn’t think he’d been unconscious for that long…
A thought crossed his mind. ‘… Speaking of bandages, where is that useless mackerel?’
Almost as if reading his thoughts, a familiar annoying voice suddenly spoke up.
“I’m here, hatrack!”
Chuuya snapped out of his thoughts when there was a hand waving rapidly right in front of his face, too close in fact that the slimy disgusting hand nearly obscured his entire vision.
Annoyed, Chuuya slapped the hand away and finally looked at the waste of bandages who was grinning on his side. “Get your smelly hand out of my face, jackass!”
The mackerel merely responded by giving a childish pout. “But~ Chuuya has been ignoring me! Dogs should have listened to their dear master!”
“Why you—“
“Ow! Bad dog! I should’ve trained you more!”
As usual, the so-called Soukoku, the most feared duo in Yokohama, bickered for a while despite knowing they were having a predicament at the moment.
They were always like that, persistently arguing and taunting each other even during crucial missions; just like when they fought the Guild and the Decay of Angels this year. They would always jump at the chance to be at odds even when they were up against a tentacle monster or a rat in a human body that was going to destroy them and everyone they loved.
Everyone who didn’t know them would interpret their bickering as them not getting along. While yes, they could be called ‘not getting along’, however in reality, they still cared for each other and saw their arguments as a means of reminiscing about earlier times when they were still partners in crime; if that made any sense.
They’d never admit it though, as Dazai would just say he loved teasing his dog to death while Chuuya would just say the ex-mafioso’s face easily irritated him.
Presumably, a few more minutes had gone by while they carried on with their flirting-fighting. Most people would become frustrated if they kept doing that for an extended period of time, especially if it were the older generation of Port Mafia members—who’d been there throughout their teenage years—were watching. Fortunately for everyone’s sanity, no one was around to witness them.
The insults and teasing remained unabated, until, there was a loud noise boomed from near the park’s perimeter.
It sounded similar to an explosion.
In quick reflex, both of them snapped their heads toward the source of the sound. Instead of fleeing and attempting to save themselves from whatever it was like regular people, they ran closer to the source, possibly out of curiosity and alarm (Chuuya) or merely out of his duty as a detective (Dazai).
Dazai immediately skidded to a halt when they arrived and went to block Chuuya from moving farther after a quick three-second assessment of the situation. Chuuya, whose head nearly collided with Dazai’s arm because of how sudden it showed up, immediately glared at the tall beanpole wearing bandages who was standing by his side.
“You—!”
“Sshhh,” Dazai quickly pressed his index finger on Chuuya’s lips, a method that usually caused Chuuya to shut his mouth faster because he didn’t feel like moving his lips around his smelly hand (even though he didn’t swat it away anyway).
Chuuya’s focus briefly shifted to the finger, a fleeting sensation that he couldn’t quite put his finger on surfaced before it disappeared as soon as Dazai lowered his finger.
Choosing to ignore the odd feeling and the disgusting (long, beautiful) finger along with its ugly owner, Chuuya slowly looked to the front, following Dazai’s sight.
Upon discovering what was there, he immediately raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“You can’t get away anymore, filthy villain! If you move, I’ll burn you to crisp!!” yelled the man in fire (how the hell wasn’t he burnt?!) trying to loom menacingly—despite wearing an absurd spandex outfit—a few feet away from a man with torn clothes.
“Hiiii! E-Endeavor! I-I just want to feed my children! Just let me go! I swear I won’t steal again, please just let me go this once so I can feed my kids! We haven’t eaten anything in 3 days, please!” begged the terrified, too skinny man (who seemed to be telling the truth given his awful appearance and clearly poor physical condition. Chuuya knew, because he used to live in the streets), who was clutching what looked like a stolen purse belonging to a woman.
Chuuya frowned, thinking, ‘Is that spandex guy some sort of police officer? What kind of police officer cosplays in the middle of the day without feeling embarrassed? What type of joke is this?
This whole situation is stupid, that spandex guy also looks stupid. And, since when do cops look at someone who appears to be an overly muscular gym trainer and say ‘you! you’re employed! You’re the finest candidate I’ve ever seen! Congrats!’ Do they now believe that using violence and fists to beat up criminals like that farmer kid in Armed Detective Agency (don’t forget the spandex, ew) is now the most effective approach to stop crimes before arresting them? The violence is usually more of a mafia thing.’
The man on fire clicked his tongue before raising his right arm. “Do you think I’m a fool, villain? Telling me a blatantly made-up story won’t have any effect on me! I won’t let a villain like you get away! Now, I’ll defeat you and have you arrested quickly.”
Like Chuuya deduced, the old man indeed had muscles for a brain. Or maybe, he had fire for eyes since his eyes were currently blinded by the raging flames, which probably caused them to be obscured from the plain truth. He knew this kind of person, twisting the truth into lies and lies into truth to suit his egoistic desires because he felt like he had so much power over others beneath him.
Choosing to trust the mackerel at the moment, Chuuya stayed back and scowl as he observed the fire man grin triumphantly when enough fire had built up in his palm. It encircled his hand and became brighter as the seconds ticked by.
He looked like he was enjoying the face the thief man was making while the thief stumbled and desperately tried to get away once more, obviously not wanting to be burned to a crisp by a large ball of flames.
Despite the dangerous situation, the crowd of bystanders remained raptly attentive to the sight from a distance. Their mouths agape and eyes glittering with awe as they lifted their phones to record or snap pictures.
“It’s Endeavor! The number 2 hero! I’m so lucky!”
“Hey, quick! Record that! We can upload this and get more views!”
“Haha! Can’t wait to tell my friends that I get to see Endeavor in action! They’ll be so jealous! First, I need a blank page for him to sign an autograph…”
Dazai kept quiet and observed the situation from behind the crowd, his eyebrows knitted as though in contemplation; in the meantime, Chuuya became increasingly angry. They both examined the situation and immediately disliked it:
the excited civilians, the raucous reporters, the useless police standing nearby, another group of people in ridiculous spandex barricading the civilians to keep them from approaching the scene, the clearly scared thief who could’ve been apprehended quickly and stealthily if the fire man hadn’t put on a show with his brazen declaration, and the man on fire with absurdly ridiculous fire beard and mustache (who’d have thought fire was a fashion statement? Yes, this man) whose fist had clenched to make even greater shape of blazing flame. He appeared overly conceited, even adopting a villainous demeanor rivaling that of low-life criminals.
Chuuya gritted his teeth and began to hit Dazai’s arm to attract his attention. “What the hell is going on?! Is that an ability user?! Why are they cheering for someone who tries to severely burn someone who looks more like a helpless father rather than a dangerous criminal? Anyone with eyes can see he’s just a desperate first-time thief given that he is barely skin and bones and he only needs to be detained, not killed! Is this place full of fucking sadists?! I’m going to—“
“Calm down, Chuuya.” Knowing Chuuya’s personality, Dazai was still stopping Chuuya from going forward, but now by gripping his shoulder. His face turned solemn. “We shouldn’t do anything. Just let it be.”
“Just let it be, you say?!” Chuuya rolled his shoulder harshly, forcing Dazai to let go of him. Glaring at Dazai, Chuuya pulled up his tan coat’s collar and yanked him forcibly face-to-face, snarling, “Aren’t you supposed to be the good guy here, Dazai?! You’re a detective, for fuck’s sake! You can just convince that spandex guy and the incompetent cops over there to just take him into custody after presenting your identification!”
Dazai merely shook his head, sighing in resignation. “I know, Chuuya. I’d try to stop it in different circumstances, but I guess a slug like you won’t notice this. Perhaps that hat of yours has consumed more of your brain because of how short you are—“
“Dazai! I’m serious here!” Chuuya wasn’t in the mood to entertain Dazai’s teasing.
Seeing Chuuya’s temper had gone worse, Dazai held his hands up in the air, a pose commonly used to signify when someone was giving up; in this case, Dazai would drop his playful remarks, at least for the time being. “Fine, fine. I’ll explain so your small brain can comprehend it. You see how no one stops the fire guy from doing that? There’s clearly a reason. And if we got involved, we might get into trouble.”
Dazai then pointed at the reporters who were still keen to talk about the individuals involved after their coworkers had set up various cameras.
“See those people over there? I believe it would make the headlines if we intervened. We risk having a bad reputation that would allow us to be recognized in public because this person may be a well-known figure with a large following, which means, the public clearly favors him over mere strangers like us who seem to try to defend a thief by making a fuss about it.
Moreover, everyone will know your face, and remember, you’re a Port Mafia executive, Chuuya, you can’t just reveal your identity to the world by appearing on TV. The most cunning of Port Mafia’s enemy groups may also take advantage of this opportunity to confirm your face and name, which could lead to the revelation of your identity, since an executive’s identity is supposed to be kept secret from the public. The Port Mafia typically eliminates anyone who discovers to protect the identity of their executives. You don’t want Port Mafia’s foes coming your way in addition to our ongoing predicament, do you?
And if you got caught here, I’d get caught too because I’m with you. Even though I’m not in the Port Mafia, they’d still probably interrogate and ask me lots of questions and it would be so annoying. Also, we have no idea where we are, Chuuya. We could be in another part of Japan, because this clearly isn’t Yokohama but they all speak Japanese. The more foreign this place for us, the riskier it is for us to behave recklessly.”
The more Chuuya thought about it, the more Chuuya could understand the logic in his words. Annoyed that the mackerel was right, he let out a loud tch and released his grip on him. Dazai huffed petulantly and idly fixed his collar again.
Agreeing with Dazai, Chuuya chose to suppress a tiny pang of concern in his heart for the old man thief that was still in danger. He was accustomed to ignoring this particular feeling in order to survive as a part of Port Mafia, thus occasionally he had to conceal his conscience when he had to harm and murder people who didn’t deserve it.
He believed Dazai was right and their safety should be prioritized right now. He told himself that he was the mafia executive with the most number of kills. Why would he now start to care for a random poor person?
He was lying to himself. Always had been. For Chuuya had always had a heart and soul kinder than most, if not all, of the Port Mafia members. Chuuya would have a golden heart, someone lit with great determination and sparks full of light if nothing had happened to Chuuya that led his life to this point.
Chuuya tensed up even more as he watched the skinny thief, who was only trying to provide for his family, futilely try to avoid the fire coming his way. He was lucky enough that only his right arm (the one he used most frequently) was burned instead of his entire body.
Still, the sight wasn’t pretty as it was scorching with searing hot red. The poor man screamed in agony before the skin turned nearly black. Chuuya winced as the man wailed in pain.
The man was still crying and screaming for help even after the police came and arrested him. No paramedics were dispatched to the area at all as everyone there appeared to have no sympathy for the man’s suffering, even looked on in contempt when he was finally taken away.
The audience seemed more interested in getting autographs from what looked like a famous fire guy who Dazai and Chuuya had never seen before.
Chuuya was disturbed by the whole scene, already repulsed by the crowd’s apathy and seeming lack of human decency. Everyone seemed to think the thief wasn’t a man at all, wasn’t a human deserving of their care, perceived as a wild animal that needed to be taught a lesson.
Chuuya was even more resentful of them and this place now, since the cruelty of it felt all too familiar, how he and most ability users weren’t viewed as humans by ordinary people.
Dazai, who’d likely being numb to bloodshed and violence since practically birth, only put on his regular pensive face while Chuuya took a deep breath to gather his thoughts.
“What are you thinking, mummy face?” Chuuya eventually spoke up (albeit in an upset tone) when he was calm enough.
“This whole situation… is strange,” Dazai concluded what was on his mind. Chuuya bet Dazai’s mind had already been working on a lot more deductions before telling him that, but Chuuya lacked the patience to ask about his lengthy explanation that would have left him confused and with a headache. He’d admitted long ago that thinking was Dazai’s forte, not his.
“Chuuya.” Dazai called his name, capturing his straying attention again.
“Hm?”
“I have… a bad feeling about this and my prediction is rarely wrong,” Dazai said as he slipped his hands in his tan coat’s pockets and turned to face him. “Chuuya, we need to learn more about this place. I checked earlier and our phones have no signal so we need to head to an internet cafe right now.”
Chuuya stared at him for a moment before looking away with another click of his tongue. There was no need to protest since they really needed more information. “… Tch, fine. Lead the way.”
An amused smile lit up Dazai’s feature as he chuckled. “Has chibi already forgotten neither of us knows the way and where even this place is?”
Embarrassed because it was true and that he actually blurted those things spontaneously, slight blush crept across his face as he gave Dazai a half-hearted smack on his arm. “S-Shut up!”
Dazai chuckled again, this time with more fondness, and started to move in the opposite direction of the scene, while Chuuya scowled once more before stepping to Dazai’s right (where bandaged had once covered his right eye) as if to protect his blind spot.
It brought back memories of their younger days together, of their partnership known as Soukoku.