Chapter Text
April Twenty-Eighth
23:45
Mori stood in his room, dimly lit with faint yellow lamplight. He looked down into one of the babies’ cribs, Aya’s, brushing his hand along her cheek.
Tomorrow was Dazai’s shipment date. He’d leave this place, and be sent to his death. Those twelve years since he’d arrived had passed so quickly. Or no, maybe that wasn’t it. Those years had dragged on horribly. Maybe it was both.
Mori turned to the hidden door in the washroom, crossing through the storage room to his office. It’d been years since this farm had shipped a child out at full maturity. Oda had been close, with his thirteenth birthday only months before his shipment date, but Dazai would truly be the first after all these years. And if that wasn’t noteworthy within its self, it was the meal to be offered at the Tifari. This shipment was critical. Nothing could go wrong.
Dazai, Yosano, and Atsushi hadn’t done much since Ranpo’s shipping day. Neither had Kunikida, Junichirou, or Naomi, from what Mori had seen over the past few months. Escape would hardly be feasible. Making it tomorrow was all that counted.
Mori grabbed a lantern off his desk. But he couldn’t let his guard down. He couldn’t afford to fail. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, just to be cautious. Patrolling the House would-
“Dazai!”
Mori froze, as a bloodcurdling scream tore through the House. It was Atsushi. Mori flung open the door, quickly placing the lantern on a stand in his office, before rushing down the hall, stopping at the door to the dining hall, the source of the voice. Atsushi’s screams hadn’t stopped, frantic pleads of Dazai’s name echoing repeatedly from within the room. Mori pulled open the door, greeted by a rush of dark smoke. He coughed, trying to peer through it. The smell was unmistakable.
Mori’s eyes widened.
The dining hall was fully set ablaze, smoking billowing down from the ceiling. A collage of red and orange roared at the center of the room, burning voraciously. White tablecloths had quickly blackened into crisps. A beam had fallen from the ceiling, crushing one of the tables.
Atsushi was at the edge of the inferno, collapsed onto his hands and knees, desperately crying out.
“Dazai! Dazai!”
“Dazai?” Mori Mori kneeled down and grabbed the boy by the shoulders, pulling him back. “Atsushi, what is going on?”
The boy whirled around, panicked.
“Dad! He’s in there!” Atsushi’s voice came out as sobs as he pointed to the center of the blaze. “Dad, you have to help, Dazai’s in there!”
Mori’s head snapped up to look at the fire. Was it a trick? A distraction to allow the rest of the children escape?
No.
Mori could smell it. Flesh and hair, burning.
Atsushi was very clearly upset too. He seemed frantic, if not concerned. Mori flipped open his radar.
There was a signal, just ahead of him and Atsushi.
It was no trick. Dazai was burning in there. No, not just that, he was burning himself. Mori swore. He should have expected this. With Dazai’s blatant hatred for him, an act like this to get the last laugh was entirely possible, even at the very end.
The shipment was tomorrow. The meal intended for the Tifari was on the line. He didn’t have much time. Plant Three was the only plant with a suitable child for the Tifari right now. Mori had to save him. He had to extinguish the fire.
Mind made up, the man ran out of the room. He had two priorities right now. Getting the extinguisher, and making sure the other children left the House safely. He stopped at the front door first, pulling his key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. At the same time, Kunikida rushed down the stairs, glasses on and sweater hanging unbothered on his frame. A few younger children followed him, similar expressions of nervousness on their faces.
“Dad-“
“Kunikida.” Mori spoke quickly. “Get all the others outside! Bring the babies from my room too!”
The blond nodded, sweat dripping down his brow, as he rushed back up the stairs to alert the rest of the children.
Mori hurried back to the dining hall, fire extinguisher tucked under his arm.
At the very least, he had to save Dazai’s brain.
“Stay back, Atsushi!” Mori waved the boy back as he readied the extinguisher, pointing the nozzle towards the flames.
The extinguisher sprayed, momentarily filling the area in front of Mori with a white mist. It was quickly reclaimed by the fire. Mori grit his teeth, tossing the extinguisher aside. It hadn’t made a dent. The fire was still growing. Mori could only assume Dazai had tampered with the sprinklers as well, otherwise they would’ve started long before now. He needed to open up the House’s fire hydrant. He also needed to make sure the rest of the children made it out of the House safely.
“Atsushi, you need to-“ Mori turned around to face the boy, but abruptly froze.
Atsushi was gone, only leaving the open doors of the dining hall.
“...Atsushi?”
He flipped open his radar again. A yellow dot, a signal was just around the bend of the hallway, nearby, where the children brushed their teeth after every meal. Why had he left? Had what he seen been too disturbing?
Or had the smoke also gotten to Atsushi?
Mori rushed out of the room, calling the boy’s name.
However, as he turned the corner of the hallway, Atsushi was nowhere in sight in the room ahead.
Smoke was beginning to cloud the room, flowing forwards on the floor as it began to encompass the room. The only things that Mori could see were a stool, a few cloths, and a cracked pail.
“...Atsushi?”
Mori walked further into the room, right up to where the signal was. He was standing right in front of the pail. Slowly, he reached into it-
-only to pull out a severed ear.
Mori’s mind raced. Something was off.
His eyes widened.
Back in the dining hall, Atsushi had been wearing a sweater. A sweater that him, and most of the other children had retired midway through March. Not only that, he’d been wearing shoes. Not the slippers that the children wore when they went to sleep.
It wasn’t just him either.
Kunikida, no, not just him-
All of the children had been dressed that way.
Mori’s grip on the ear tightened.
——————————
Atsushi dashed through the forest, weaving between the trees he’d known almost his entire life. He was careful to keep the cloth held to his ear in place, keeping pressure on the area.
“He’s here!” Katsumi caught sight of him, holding the straps of his backpack and running over to greet Atsushi. “Atsushi’s here!”
Atsushi stopped, leaning over to catch his breath. He looked up, with sweat dripping down his face, and a determined expression.
At his family, who all stood there, waiting for him.
“I’m here. Thank you for waiting, everyone. We can run away now!”
The others cheered, all of Atsushi’s family sharing the same drive that he had in that moment, the same will to escape this place.
All of them, except Dazai, who watched on with a cloth pressed to his own ear, in total surprise.
——————————
20 Minutes Earlier
“I’m gonna go see Odasaku and Ango now. Goodbye, Atsushi.”
The match dropped. Time seemed to move in slow motion. There was no sound, nothing at all to the boy. Atsushi ran, desperately reaching forward
A resounding clap filled the dining hall as Atsushi caught the match between his hands, diving far enough to reach it.
Dazai’s eyes went wide from shock. The younger boy opened his hands up, proudly displaying the now fizzled out match, accompanied by two small burns on each of his hands. Atsushi gave a relieved grin.
“I got it. Just in time.”
“Your hands, Atsushi-“
“There’s something Ranpo wanted to say to you.” Atsushi cut Dazai off. “You can die anywhere you want. But there’s something I want to show you, so stop being an idiot and listen.”
Satisfied with himself, Atsushi let the burnt match fall from his hands.
“Ranpo knew about your plan. Everything. Before he was shipped. He warned me to stop you.”
Atsushi took a step forward.
Use that care that you feel for others to push forward instead of stepping back.
“I’m not just going to let you die, Dazai. Not now. Not ever. Ranpo, I, and everyone else, won’t let that happen.”
The brunette was frozen for a moment, no response coming to him, until the wording hit him.
“Everyone else? Who do you mean by-“
He was cut off by a knock on the door. Atsushi walked over to it, opening it to reveal Shinji, Katsumi, and Yosano.
“Everyone else is ready to go!” Katsumi tumbled in first with a nod.
“I have the stuff you asked for too!” Shinji held up the white box he was carrying.
Yosano didn’t say anything, only smiling with her arms crossed, grateful to see the joy filled expression on Atsushi’s face.
“Thank you, Shinji, Katsumi.” Atsushi took the box from the young boy’s hands.
The two quickly turned to Dazai, holding out a pair of shoes and a change of clothes.
“Go change into those.” Atsushi nodded to him. “I’ll explain what’s going on later. But, to put it simply, we’re escaping. Just as Ranpo planned it.”
——————————
“You’re done?” Yosano turned to Dazai as he re-entered the dining hall. “Come sit over here then, and we’ll move onto step two.”
Katsumi and Shinji were huddled over the puddle of light fuel, seemingly hard at work on something. Atsushi stood next to Yosano, also turning over to the brunette.
Dazai paused in front of them, wordless again. Ever since Atsushi had caught the match, he’d been left completely and utterly speechless. Only know did his thoughts seem to crawl their way back to the edges of his mind. He felt like he was floating.
“...Hold on.” Dazai grabbed his other wrist, now dry thanks to the fresh bandages he’d been given. “I...I don’t-“
Atsushi sighed, walking over to him.
“Ranpo told me to do this for him if you did something like this, but it’s from me too.”
The boy took a deep breath, before promptly smacking Dazai across the face.
“You’re not going to die here! I already said it before, but I’ll say it again. Stop arguing so we can escape already!”
Yosano snickered watching the shock on Dazai’s face.
“We’re done!” Katsumi called to the others, Shinji giving a noise of confirmation as well.
Dazai’s attention was finally brought to the puddle of light fuel. A shirt and a pair of pants laid in the center of it. Various types and slices of meat from the House pantry were arranged on top of the clothing.
“What is that?” Dazai peered at the pile.
“Meat-zai.” Shinji answered simply, like it was obvious. “Your replacement. Yosano said it’d make a certain smell.”
“It’s more convincing that way.” Katsumi added.
Suddenly, Dazai’s eyes caught on something in the pile. A handful of dark, long hair.
“Wait, that hair-“
“It’s Kohi’s. She gave it to me.” Atsushi answered, pulling out a seat for Dazai.
“Anyways, there’s one more thing that we have to add to ‘Meat-zai’.” Yosano grabbed a scalpel out of the white box the others had brought in earlier. “Come sit over here, with your ear facing me. I’ve got to take your tracker out.”
——————————
Dazai ran with the others through the forest, still feeling barely connected to his body. His right cheek still stung a bit from Atsushi’s slap earlier, but his left cheek stung a bit more from the slap Kunikida had given him when he’d met up with the others in the forest and the blond had handed him his bag. He pressed the cloth bandage against his ear tightly.
This was Ranpo’s plan?
Atsushi had known about the fire this whole time?
Others, no, all of the other children knew?
How? How was any of this possible?
——————————
Dazai was planning to die. Ranpo knew that much.
On that day, he’d said that he’d been planning escape for the four of them. He never included himself.
From far before they’d stared making their plan, Dazai intended to die by his own hand. He wouldn’t escape with the rest of them. He planned to die here, where their siblings had.
Ranpo couldn’t understand why at first. But the more he thought about it, the more the reason made sense. Not just a reason. Multiple, multiple reasons, piling on top of each other. It made Ranpo’s stomach twist with dread.
But that didn’t matter. Ranpo couldn’t let it happen. He needed to think. Think about how Dazai would do this.
He wouldn’t let himself be shipped out. Whatever the method was, it would be clear, a sign of defiance. Ranpo could count on Dazai’s hatred of Father for that.
That still didn’t answer the question of how Dazai intended to die.
Luckily, Ranpo found it himself. Dazai shouldn’t have told them about how he hid things under the floorboards.
Ten canisters of light fuel.
He was going to burn himself and the House.
A distraction for the escape. A trump card against Father, to outwit him entirely. It was an amazingly well thought out plan. Dazai really had unmeasurable preparation for this escape.
Ranpo wouldn’t let him die. But he could use his plan to his advantage.
Not long after, Ranpo faced the chasm surrounding Grace Field. He made his resolve their.
Once he reached the ground again, he found Shinji, borrowing some of his sketchbook papers. He wrote three letters.
One to Yosano, one to Kunikida, and one to Atsushi.
Father would be keeping a closer eye on them from now on. Meetings between at least the three of them would be difficult, so he included the same basic information in each. But he included other messages in each letter as well. Things he wanted them to remember. Things he wished he could say to them when they were reading the letters.
But for Atsushi, he left something important.
After all, if there was anyone who could save Dazai, it would be him.
So, he wrote.
Atsushi,
When you read this, I won’t be here anymore. But I’ll tell you the plan here. I’m writing similar letters to Yosano and Kunikida.
In about two months, most likely the day before Dazai’s birthday, he’s going to start a fire in the House, and try to burn himself with it.
You can use the fire. You can outwit Father. But you can save Dazai too. I’ll give you more details below.
The true plan is still hidden. We’ve gotten some assistance from Brother Ace too. A key mold, and a pen with the initials S. T. on it. I’m sure you know what that means.
You have two months to prepare. You know what you need to do. You can escape with everyone, including Dazai.
Get out of this cage, Atsushi. I know you can, all of you.
——————————
“I’m here. Thank you for waiting, everyone. We can run away now!”
The others cheered, all of Atsushi’s family sharing the same drive that he had in that moment, the same will to escape this place.
All of them, except Dazai, who watched on with a cloth pressed to his own ear, in total surprise.
“Everyone’s tracking devices are broken, right?” Atsushi looked between the others.
“Yeah, we got all of them.” Sakura smiled, tapping her own ear.
“We should treat your ear.” Yosano frowned on concern. “I couldn’t be there to remove the device, so it’s a far bigger wound.”
“Later.” Atsushi nodded. “We should hurry for now.”
“Alright.” Kunikida called out the others. “We’re ready to go now! To the wall!”
And just like that, all of the children began running. Dazai followed along, moving up through the group to get to Kunikida.
“They know about everything, all the others, right.”
The blond nodded.
“Yes.”
“The escape?”
“Yes.”
“Mori?”
“Yes.”
“The demons?”
“Yes! I said they knew everything already, and I meant it, so quit asking!” Kunikida glared at him.
Dazai didn’t even react to provoking him, still holding an expression of disbelief.
“But...how?”
“I’m not the one you should be asking. This is Atsushi’s story to tell.”
“You want me to explain it?” Atsushi pointed to himself, eyes widened in slight surprise.
“You’ve earned it.” Yosano smiled at the boy.
Atsushi grinned back, turning to Dazai.
“Okay then. It started months ago, when I was talking with Ranpo and Kunikida.”
——————————
“Also, Ranpo, Kunikida. I wanted to talk about something with you.” Ranpo was drawn out of his thoughts by Atsushi’s voice.
“Hm? What is it?” Kunikida grabbed another shirt out of the basket.
“I’ve been thinking, and well, I think I have a plan that’ll let us escape with everyone.”
Ranpo almost dropped the sheet he was holding in surprise.
“You do?” Ranpo readjusted his hold on the sheet. “Start talking then.”
“I think we should tell everyone else.” Atsushi looked to the two of them, determined.
“Everyone?” Kunikida looked at him in surprise.
“Looking how things were with Junichirou and Naomi, they took things a lot better than we thought. They were mature. We underestimated them. The others are probably the same way.” Atsushi continued. “And if we’re running away, the others will need to know the truth eventually. I want them to choose to escape with us, not just be forced into a world of dangers they didn’t know about. Father doesn’t suspect the others. It’s the oldest he’s focused on, and not even all of us. He hasn’t been watching Katai or Kohi at all, and he definitely won’t be watching the younger kids as long as we’re a threat. I think we might be able to outwit Father this way. So, what do you think, Ranpo? Will it work?”
Not long after the three of them decided to tell four more kids. At least, in the beginning. Katai, Kohi, Haruno, and Rokuzo.
They didn’t waste any time either. It couldn’t be afforded. After all, how could they, when such a great opportunity was right in front of them later that day, brought to them by their dear Brother Ace?
“Alright, then for starters,” Ranpo held out a hand, “let me see that watch. The one that lets you see the location of the tracking devices.”
The first, and most important step of tonight.
Ace reached into his pocket, pulling the watch out. He let the watch part of it drop, dangling it by the chain attached to it.
“This, then?” He dropped it into Ranpo’s open palm. “Of course.”
As long as Ranpo held the radar, Ace wouldn’t see the six signals outside the door. Kunikida and Naomi, guiding their four siblings to listen in on the conversation.
——————————
“You’ve been telling them since then?” Dazai could hardly believe it.
It wasn’t just Kunikida and the Tanizaki siblings that Atsushi was keeping Father’s attention from. Even telling those four had a benefit, whether they knew it at that time, Dazai realized. Rokuzo was a messenger for Kunikida. Katai was a messenger for Yosano. Kohi was a messenger for Atsushi. Haruno was a messenger for the Tanizaki siblings. None of these people would look suspicious talking to them often.
“We brought more in over these past few months. And eventually, we were ready.”
Atsushi stopped, looking up at the looming wall before them. Dazai had hardly noticed they were already there.
This was it. Beyond this wall was the chasm surrounding the Grace Field farm. The edge of this cage. Atsushi took a long breath, squeezing the cloth he held at his ear.
“Me and Atsushi will climb up first!” Kunikida moved to the front of the group, taking a rope from Rokuzo. “Then, we’ll pull you all up. It’ll be just like training.”
The blond turned to Atsushi.
“Are you ready?”
The boy nodded firmly, following Kunikida up to the wall.
“Yeah.”
The other kids ran forward eagerly, while Dazai hung back. Yosano joined him.
“He’s not giving himself enough credit. Atsushi, I mean.”
“Huh?” Dazai tilted his head, mind too worn out to come up with a better response.
“It was his plan, at the base. Something even Ranpo hadn’t thought of till then.” Yosano crossed her arms, squeezing her elbows. “And...if I’ll be honest, that night, after you left the dining hall, I was just about ready to give in. To the grief, to the pain, all of it, even if it was just for a little bit. The others felt the same way. I could tell. But Atsushi...he was hurting too, but even in that moment, he wasn’t giving up. He pushed everything aside, focused himself, and said we needed to come up with a new plan, and a way to cross the ravine. After all of that, he pulled us together, pulled this escape together, and we made it happen. If it weren’t for him, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
She smiled softly.
“It’s just...I’m proud of him. I really am.”
Dazai looked over to Atsushi, just as he landed on top of the wall, shouting to Junichirou to untie the rope from the tree and throw it up to him.
“I’m proud of him too.”
“Thought so. Anyways, we should get going.” Yosano nodded to him, joining the group ahead.
Dazai watched Atsushi for a moment more, before his eyes drifted to the rest of the group. An escape with everyone. That’s what Atsushi had wanted. And-
Dazai stopped, looking over the group again.
Something was wrong.
——————————
Fire roared within the House. It spilled out of nearly ever window, like it threatened to burst out of the structure at any moment. Smoke hung over the sky above. The wooden building groaned worriedly. Mori stood, facing it, clutching the radio case in one hand.
“In the end, they outwitted me. I never saw it coming.”
He watched the flames crackle for a moment.
Mori began to laugh, dark and manic. A wide, eerie smile spread across his face.
They were alive. Atsushi. Dazai. All of them.
The game wasn’t over yet. Mori could still win. He would win. It was more than he could hope for. He could still catch them. Mori turned around to face the empty clearing.
All of them...they really are escaping with everyone. How foolish. It didn’t matter, he’d stop them. He’d capture every last one of them, the children he’d raised himself.
Mori set the radio down forcefully.
No one would escape from Grace Field House, not-
Mori froze, feeling a tug on his pant leg. He slowly turned around, only to be greeted with wide, deep blue eyes.
“Dad.”
Mori couldn’t believe it.
“...Kyouka?”
——————————
“Where are they? The four year olds and under.” Dazai asked, frowning at Kunikida as he took the blond’s hand, pulling himself up the final bit to stand on top of the wall.
“We aren’t taking them.”
“You aren’t?”
“You said it yourself, before. Taking everyone would be dangerous, especially for the younger kids.” Kunikida began balling up the rope. “Atsushi and the Tanizaki siblings brought it up, and after hearing them out, Yosano and I agreed. We aren’t taking them tonight.”
——————————
About A Month Ago
“Everything’s going well.” Junichirou stood in the infirmary, Naomi next to him. “Now, everyone five and older knows the truth, and are willing to escape.”
“They all were able to handle it too.” Naomi nodded, adding on. “As well as they could, anyways. I think it’ll be okay though.”
“We’re ready to move on with training too.” Junichirou continued, looking to Atsushi in the infirmary bed. “But...what comes next? Do we tell the four year olds, and the other younger kids?”
They didn’t even have to mention the risks. The others could just not believe them. And if they did, maybe they couldn’t hide it from Father. Before Atsushi could answer, Naomi spoke.
“Should we bring them with us?”
The other two looked to her.
“I don’t doubt Ranpo or his plan. But the cliff? As it is, that’s difficult to deal with. Ranpo’s gone too. When we escape, the weather’s gonna be colder still. We don’t know exactly what we’ll face when we get outside. I know we’re a bit far into this plan for me to bring this up...but I don’t want to escape just to have them die out there.”
“Naomi...” Junichirou gave a conflicted look. “If we leave them here, they’ll die no matter what.”
“I know that, but still...”
“I don’t want to leave them here.” Atsushi’s fingers curled into his sheets. “You’re right about the risks. You and Dazai. But I don’t want to have them just get shipped. I don’t want that to happen again. Not after this. I want everyone to escape from this farm.”
Junichirou nodded, concern clear on his face. Naomi ducked her head, biting the inside of her cheek before she spoke again.
“But we’re not everyone. Our family.”
She clasped her hands together tightly.
“There’s four other plants in this farm. Four other families. We don’t know who they are. But they’re probably just like we were. A happy family that doesn’t know anything of the truth. One that sends their siblings off with smiles and hopes for the future. Even if we escape...it doesn’t stop for them. They’ll keep dying.”
The room went silent. Atsushi had a look of small horror, the thought had never crossed his mind.
“I’m sorry.” Naomi waved a hand. “But I can’t help but think about these things.”
“...What should we do then?” Junichirou turned to Atsushi.
The older boy was silent for a moment, before grabbing the checkered pen off of his nightstand, holding it in his palm.
“You’re right, Naomi. You are.”
There was silence for another moment.
“Could you get Kyouka? And...Kenji too?”
It didn’t take long for them to return with the two younger children.
“Atsushi? Is something wrong?” Kyouka gave a small frown.
Atsushi hesitated for a moment, a pause shortened enough that it was hardly noticeable.
“I need to talk to both of you. About the House. About...Dad.”
——————————
Both of them were quiet after Atsushi finished. It was almost strange. Their faces both seemed suspended, frozen without any surprise for the moment. The two exchanged a glance.
“So that really is what’s going on.” Kyouka spike first, voice soft.
Kenji slightly nodded.
“So we were right.”
All three of the older children looked at them in surprise. Atsushi looked between them.
“What do you mean?”
“When we were playing tag...Brother said something about a harvest. And me and Kenji found that word in one of our books too. With the kitty.” Kyouka’s head tilted down as she held her small hands up to her chest. “Later, I saw him looking in Dazai’s drawers. And then, when Ranpo left, you all looked so scared of Dad...”
Kyouka looked up at Atsushi again.
“He got harvested. Ranpo got harvested. Elise did too. And, a-and-“
It was then that she finally crumpled, tears welling up in her eyes and face scrunching up as she cried. Even Kenji, ever cheery, always smiling Kenji, also had tears streaming down his face. Atsushi’s heart felt like a blade had run through it. He lurched forward, wrapping both of them in a tight hug.
They sat there until both of the younger children had stopped crying, the sounds of play and joy passing outside the infirmary door. Eventually, Atsushi pulled back, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.
“Kenji. Kyouka. I’m stuck between two options right now. Should I escape with everyone? Or should I leave the children four and under here?”
The Tanizaki siblings watched on in surprise. They hadn’t expected a method so direct.
“They can only ship us out of here when we’re six. Kenji, you have the earliest birthday. At the least, you’ll have a bit less than a month and a half before you turn six. But this farm also focuses on quality over quantity. When we escape, fourteen of the older kids will be leaving. If they want high quality merchandise after that, they have to let the kids with potential live. And as for scores, all six of you who are four having been scoring fairly high. In the worst case scenario...I think we have twenty-eight months. A bit over two years.”
Junichirou gasped, realizing what Atsushi was implying. Kyouka and Kenji exchanged glances again, no words said between them at all. Even so, they seemed to come to an agreement.
Kyouka faced Atsushi.
“We can wait until then. You can leave us here.”
——————————
Present Time
“We aren’t taking them with us now.” Atsushi had joined them as the explanation ended, standing still as Yosano attaches gauze to his ear.
“But we aren’t letting them die either.” Kunikida’s grip tightened on his bag. “Kyouka and Kenji are the only ones who know. We’re leaving this to them.”
“But within those twenty-eight months, we’ll come back.” Atsushi stepped forward once Yosano finished. “Not just for Kyouka, Kenji, and the others though. For everyone else in Grace Field. We’ll escape with all of them.”
There was no waver, no doubt in his voice at all. Dazai stared at Atsushi’s back as he began running with the others across the wall. It wasn’t just an escape that Atsushi had planned. It was the total destruction of Grace Field farm.
——————————
“Kyouka, where are the others?” Mori looked down at the girl, trying to asses the situation.
“Over here.” Kyouka pointed and began to run.
Mori picked up the radio to follow her. She was wearing a sweater, but she was also wearing slippers. The sweater could be excused for the younger kids, as it was a colder night. Maybe she grabbed it before they knew what was going on. Her tracker was acting normally as well.
The rest of the children weren’t far, huddled together in the tree line, babies included. The rest of the younger children, at least. Mori did a quick look over as some of the children rushed up to him in distress.
Fourteen of them were gone. All of the children five and older. The younger ones didn’t know. That was the situation.
Mori’s jaw clenched. They already had a head start. Even getting the radio had wasted more time than it should have, with the keyhole past the bookcase jammed with glue.
“Where’s Kunikida? And Yosano? And everyone else?” One of the children pulled on his pant leg, tears running down his face.
“I’ll go get them now. Don’t worry.” Mori patted the child’s head, stepping away.
The crowd of children quickly broke out into protests, reaching for him again.
“I’ll be back soon. Stay here.”
With the children’s cries behind him, Mori rushed off into the night. Their plan would go no further. He would let them escape. Although the children had a head start, they were still children, many of them very young. From Mori’s predictions, at this point they’d just climbed the wall. He could still stop them, he had more than enough time.
A cliff that barely looked like it had a bottom. A sight that would leave you breathless, full of despair. Just like Mori had seen, all those years ago.
But somehow, they’d decided to keep going forward anyways.
It didn’t matter. Once they were up on that wall, they’d have to cross the bridge. It was the only link to the outside. They had to know that at this point. That’s exactly where they would go. Unfortunately for them, Plant Three was the furthest Plant from headquarters. Time was on Mori’s side.
He slammed the radio down, grabbing the speaker and holding it up to his mouth.
Mori would cut them off before they even got to the bridge.
“This is 43215 from Plant Three. Sound the alarms. Some children are attempting an escape!”
——————————
A high-pitched, ear piercing screech cut through the air, droning on in timed intervals.
Atsushi and the others stopped running for a moment. Some of the younger children covered their ears. Caretakers in the other Plants stood in alarm. Children began to blink awake, alerted by the sound. Mori put the receiver back on the radio, once near dark hair falling in front of his face with the wind.
Inside of headquarters, a shrouded demon addressed the rest of the staff.
“From this point forward, we are at maximum security. If the situation calls for it, kill those who aren’t high grade. Leave their heads unharmed. Capture them on sight. Do not let a single one get away.”
——————————
“That’s the alarm.” Yosano finished packing her medical supplies back into her bag. “They got to it earlier than we expected.”
“We’re too far from the bridge.” Dazai shook his head, chewing on his lip. “We won’t make it in time.”
It was too far. If they’d sounded the alarm now, by the time they arrived to the bridge there’s already be guards everywhere. What were they supposed to do? What could they do? Had this, all of this been for nothing? Should he have just-
“It doesn’t matter.” Kunikida adjusted his glasses. “We aren’t going to the bridge.”
“What?” Dazai looked at them in surprise for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
“It’s only a little further, come on!” Junichirou called to the others, rallying them along the wall.
Eventually, they stopped. Dazai squinted. At first, he couldn’t see anything significant about the spot.
“We’re crossing the ravine.” Atsushi pointed towards the tree line on the other side. “From this spot.”
Dazai’s eyes followed where Atsushi was pointing, landing on a small ledge with a tree slanting out of it, pointing towards them. It barely stuck out from the rest of the cliff.
It was just like Ranpo had said in his letter. Father would think they’d use the bridge. The demons would think they’d use the bridge. It was obvious. Crossing the cliff on your own would be unnecessarily impossible. That’s what they should think. But there was a spot where they could cross. Ranpo had seen it when he’d surveyed the wall before. It’d be difficult. Dangerous too.
So use those two months well, Kunikida.
The blond stood at the edge of the wall, a rope with three rocks tied to it in his hands.
Ever since he’d come up with it, his ideal had been one of the most important things in the House to him. He promised himself that that’s what he would live by, that that’s what he’d strive to be once he got outside. At a time, even Father had been included in his notebook as someone to be like.
When he saw Elise that day, he made another promise to himself.
I won’t let them take anyone else.
And he failed. Utterly and undeniably, he’d failed. One of his best friends had been killed, no less.
He couldn’t be the person he wanted to be. He couldn’t do the things he wanted to accomplish.
But by no means would he ever give up. Atsushi helped him remember that. The words Ranpo had said to him came back immediately.
”Stay strong, no matter what, okay?”
So he picked himself back up.
He’d failed. Kunikida couldn’t deny it. But he wouldn’t let that stop him. One day, he would achieve his ideals. No matter what.
He raised the end of the rope with the rocks, swinging it around in the air to gain momentum. The drop below could be ignored. It was just like practice. He threw the rope forward, casting it across the ravine. The rocks wrapped around the tree, forming white bands along its trunk.
The rest of the children cheered. Kunikida let out a breath of relief, grinning. He grabbed a hanger from his bag as Kohi tied the other end of the rope to a branch on the House’s side of the wall. The blond placed the hanger over the rope, preparing himself.
They only needed to get one person to the other side.
Kunikida had volunteered immediately.
He took a breath, then kicked off the wall. The others watched as the boy slid across the chasm, crashing into the other side. Kunikida steadied himself, turning to face them with an assured nod followed by a lantern signal.
Mori had made a lot of mistakes over the past two months, Dazai realized. But his biggest was underestimating Kunikida. Even if Atsushi brought everyone together, it was Kunikida who’s led the others in preparation, right in front of Mori’s face.
Katsumi and Shinji stepped up next, twin smiles on their faces. They held soap bottle rockets with rope attached to them and air pumps, the rest of the children moving so they could set them up. On the count of three they let their rockets fly, landing safely in the bushes beyond. Kunikida secures both of the ropes to nearby trees, until three taught lines stretched across the ravine. He gave another lantern signal once he was done.
“Alright. It’s time to cross.” Yosano smiled, patting Shinji and Sakura’s heads.
Rokuzo went first, tying his hands to the hanger with bits of cloth and placing it over the zipline. Shinji and Haruno followed, kicking off the wall just as Kunikida had.
Dazai couldn’t believe it. None of them seemed anxious or hesitant. It was like they’d been doing this their whole lives. Even the five year olds crossed with ease.
It was more than just Atsushi, Kunikida, Yosano, and the Tanizaki siblings.
Every last one of the children had worked so, so hard for this.
“You’ve never been able to beat me. It’s only natural I’d be able to outwit you now.”
Dazai’s head whipped to the side, alarmed to see a familiar smirk, before his face relaxed.
“Humble as always, Ranpo.”
“Of course.”
Dazai turned to watch Atsushi help Yuu tie his hands to a hanger.
“This is what you wanted me to see, right?”
“Yep. It’s amazing. Both of us never thought we’d see something like this. But here it is. Thanks to them. They’re amazing. Each of them. Most of all though...”
Dazai turned to his side again.
“...you don’t have to give up anymore.”
No one was there. Dazai smiled fondly.
——————————
”There’s no sign of them.”
“Keep watching. They won’t escape.”
The voices crackled over the radio. Mori listened in. They should’ve been at the bridge by now. Were they waiting out the alarm? Or-
No.
Mori shot up, leaving the radio behind.
——————————
“Only three more left!” Kunikida called to the rest of them.
The last three. Only one more trip. They’d be gone before Father even knew how they’d left.
“Alright, Sakura, are you-“ Atsushi turned to face the girl, pausing as he saw her expression.
She looked anxious, shoulders shaking.
“A-Atsushi, my hands...they won’t stop shaking.” A tear leaked from her eyes. “I...I just keep thinking about the cliff. What if it goes bad? What if I fall?”
Atsushi’s breath caught in his throat. It’d been going so well. What were-
“It’s alright.” Dazai picked the girl up, ruffling her hair. “We can just cross together. It’ll be easy. Atsushi, toss me the rope we used to climb up here.”
The younger boy nodded, a wave of relief coming over him as he helped tie the girl to Dazai.
“So, when you go over you’ll have to-“
“I know, I watched the others.” Dazai waved him off, putting his hanger over the line. “I’ll see you on the other side, Atsushi.”
And then he was gone.
Since he’d discovered it, the truth of this world had seemed so insurmountable, so crushing, that Dazai could barely stand to even know it on his own. The world was cruel. That was only reinforced after Odasaku and Ango had died. Fighting back would never work, they would be lucky to scrape by with a few people escaping. Dazai would never get to be one of them. There could be no tomorrow for him waiting after this. He knew as much. Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep. Don’t hope for a future where everyone can live, that reality could only live in dreams. That’s what Dazai had lived by.
But now, as Dazai landed on the other side, the dream was real.
He wouldn’t die now. That could come later. He’d fight for this world where they could survive. He’d live.
Atsushi put his hanger on the line, taking a breath as he prepared to push off.
Suddenly he flinched at the sound of footsteps, fast approaching. He turned to face the sound.
Father stood there, breathing heavily.
The man he’d been afraid of for so long now.
The man he’d loved as a parent.
The man who’d sent so many of them to their deaths.
The man who’d raised them.
A mess of contradictions, standing right in front of him.
“Atsushi...” He looked shocked, nothing like the cold, malicious Father who’d confronted them before.
The boy wasn’t afraid anymore. After everything still.
“Goodbye, Dad.”
Atsushi kicked off the wall. He heard Father shout after him, and caught a brief glimpse of his outstretched hand. But Atsushi was already gone.
His siblings caught him on the other side, asking him if he was alright. Some of the others hastily untied the ropes from the trees, leaving them to flow in the wind. Atsushi didn’t look back as they ran further into the forest.
In his mind, he said his last goodbyes. To Grace Field House. To the life they’d lived in peace. To the warm mornings and happy meteorites he’d made there.
To this cage they’d lived in so long.
To this home they’d loved for all that time.
——————————
Over Twenty Years Ago
“You really should be more careful.” Mori clicked his tongue as he finished wrapping the bandage around the other boy’s knee.
“I’m careful enough.” The other boy bent his leg back and forth, looking at it.
“I don’t think I believe you, Fukuzawa.”
The grey haired boy blinked at him, a small hint of annoyance on his face. Mori’s closest friend at the orphanage, Yukichi Fukuzawa. He was aloof, someone most of the others were slightly intimidated by. Fukuzawa usually kept quiet, spending most of his time in the forest and rarely socializing with others. But he had a soft spot for cats, loved tea, and he was Mori’s friend, which was all that mattered to the black-haired boy.
“It’s just a cut from playing in the woods with Genichirou. It’s not serious.”
Ouchi Fukuchi, Fukuzawa’s closest friend at Grace Field. The other grey haired boy was just about Fukuzawa’s complete opposite, loud and brash, but they’d been near inseparable ever since they were young. Fukuchi wasn’t Mori’s favorite person, but he’d grown on him in the time Mori had known him.
“Just something to consider.” Mori smirked. “If you break your leg again I won’t bring you any tea while you recover.”
Fukuzawa made a distasteful face and Mori laughed.
Fukuchi was the first of them to get adopted, a few months before his thirteenth birthday. Fukuzawa didn’t cry, to most people he didn’t even look sad at all. But Mori could tell. It took a long time for the boy to finish saying his goodbyes. After Fukuchi left, he just stood there for a while. Mori stood with him.
Later that night, the two of them sat on Fukuzawa’s bed, other children fast asleep.
“What do you want to do when you get out?” Mori asked, knees hugged to his chest. “I don’t think I’ve asked you in a while.”
“I want to go to a dojo. Learn how to use a sword. I told Fukuchi that we’d have a real match out there some day, so I’m going to do that too.” Fukuzawa listed them off on his fingers. “I’ll go get a cat. Cats. Three, or five, or...something like that.”
Mori laughed.
“I don’t think I even needed to ask. I figured it was something like that.”
“What about you, Mori? What do you want to do?”
The black haired boy looked down at his hands.
“I’ll open a clinic. I’ll help people.”
Fukuzawa left on his thirteenth birthday. It felt like no goodbye Mori could give was enough. He didn’t cry. Part of him wanted to. He stood at the door long after. Alone.
But it was okay. As long as Fukuzawa was out there somewhere. Maybe he’d even find him some day.
But then Mori climbed the wall. He saw the bottomless chasm surrounding them. The identical homes lined up next to each other. He was only brought back by his Father, beckoning him back down with only a smile.
And then that day had come, where he’d been taken down to the gate on his birthday, only to be greeted by hulking monsters. Monsters who told him he had a choice between life and death. Monsters who told him that everyone else who’d been shipped had been killed.
Fukuzawa had been killed.
The realization made Mori want to scream. He wanted to lash out, to pay back the monsters and his Father for the horrible reality they’d put in place for them, for the hopes that weren’t real. But he couldn’t.
He was powerless.
So he chose to live. To live on, to not let himself be a meal. To live on, because Fukuzawa couldn’t. He couldn’t change this world. He couldn’t rewrite reality.
So he spent years in that training facility, competing, pushing other people down just to survive. Finally, two options were set in front of him. Even then, he didn’t want to be a Father, like the man he’d hated since the day he knew the truth. So he picked the other option, working there for a few years. But eventually, it came to him. Being defiant would do nothing. Resisting would do nothing.
It wouldn’t help people. It’d only bring pain.
At some point, the man he used to call Father had risen in the ranks, with Mori now told to refer to him as “Grandfather”. Over the years, he’d never stopped recommending that Mori should choose to be a Caretaker instead. One day, he told Mori that there was an opening. Mori accepted.
He’d been told that it was unbearable by others. That the pain could be too much. But it was okay.
As long as they didn’t know, it was okay.
The House was nostalgic in a horrible way, as was the family. For perhaps a day he tried to resist getting to know them, but it was natural, and needed. He could give them happy lives. He could make sure they lived as long as they could.
As long as they didn’t know, it was okay.
The first shipment felt like it came too quickly. A girl who wanted to open up a bakery. She said she’d send a cake back to them.
As long as they didn’t know, it was okay.
At a later shipment, a pair of friends was separated. They stood together at the door, wordless after a tearful goodbye, until Mori guided one of the boys away.
As long as they didn’t know, it was okay.
They had hopes. They cared for each other. Cared for him. One young girl gave him a tight hug before he reached the gate.
As long as they didn’t know, it was okay.
Over the past six years, Mori adjusted. The pain wasn’t bad anymore. It didn’t hurt to smile as he sent them off. He’d gotten better at teaching them, at caring for them.
Until that day, when he saw a signal out by the gate.
He approached it with only mild worry, as there wasn’t much of a risk with a child seeing the gate during the day like this. But still, it was a rule, an important one. He didn’t know who he was expecting to see there. Something was odd though, seeing Osamu Dazai there, just sitting against one of the trees.
Something about the boy had always reminded Mori of himself. How he was clever. How he only reached out to a few people. How he seemed to analyze everything, as young as he was.
Part of him even wondered if Dazai could be his biological son. They took DNA from each of the trainees when they reached a certain age. But there was no way to know.
“Dazai? What are you doing out here?”
The boy turned to him, a small smile on his face. For some reason, Mori felt unnerved. Dazai raised his hand to point at the gate.
As long as they didn’t know-
“The masked monsters are out there, right? Not the families. Right, Dad?”
——————————
Present
“It’s over.” Mori looked out at the empty forest across the chasm. “It’s all over. I lost.”
He’d let them escape. All fourteen of them. After all of his reputation, he was now just a failure of a Caretaker. He knew what would happen now.
Even so, he felt at peace.
Mori just hoped he prepared them enough for the world out there. They were all brilliant children.
“Never stop chasing the light. Now that you see it, never give up.”
——————————
Kenji and Kyouka stood watching the House, squeezing each other’s hands. It’d been a while. It gnawed at both of their brains, only being able to think about what could’ve happened.
They both turned at the sound of footsteps, only to see Father, carrying a stack of blankets. He smiled down at them.
“They all escaped safely. It’s okay.”
The two looked up at him in surprise. Some of the other children started to stir at the sound of their Father’s voice. The man turned his attention to them.
“I’m sorry for leaving. I’m back now. You aren’t alone anymore.”
As the children around him slept tucked under the blankets, Father hummed.
“What’s that song?” One of the children murmured, rubbing her eyes.
“It’s a song your older brother Oda used to sing. You probably don’t remember him. It’s Dazai’s song too. I think it’s a wonderful song.”
He’d taken the ropes down from the other side of the wall. For now, the children would have a safe start. The higher ups still didn’t know how they escape. This was the most time he could give them.
From here, it was up to them.
——————————
They were out.
They were really out.
Atsushi had never felt lighter, like he was flying through the air as he ran. Three months. It’d been three long months since Atsushi had seen Elise that day. But here they were, in a world where there was hope.
Even so, it wasn’t a guarantee. In this world,a society of demons, they were food. There was no temporary safety of a farm anymore. Their supplies was limited. Right now they didn’t even have shelter. But there was a fighting chance. And Atsushi wouldn’t give up.
They’d find a place to live. They’d save the others. They could do it.
Light began to flicker through the trees. Atsushi came to a stop at a ledge, peering out at the horizon. For once, Atsushi could see beyond everything.
There was no tree line hiding it.
No wall blocking their view.
It was the sunrise, painted grandly over the horizon with a watercolor of yellow, orange, and blue painting over the sky farther than Atsushi could’ve ever imagined. A lush forest was below the skyline, cut apart by only winding rivers. It was bright. It was so, so bright.
“It’s morning. We made it out.” He couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight.
“Atsushi...” Dazai’s voice came from next to him. “You’re crying.”
Atsushi brought a hand to his cheek, feeling the warm tears rolling down his cheeks. He turned to Dazai.
“So are you.”
Dazai did the exact same gesture.
“Oh. I am.”
Three seconds passed before they both broke out in laughter. Laughing, crying, it all mixed together into an indescribable emotion. Yosano, Kunikida, and all the others joined them, mutually feeling the same way.
They sat there together, a sobbing, laughing mess of a family.
But a family nonetheless.
And they were free.