Immersion

by Adventlost

Summary:

They say immersion is the best way to learn a language and country's culture. They never mentioned how magical abilities and eccentric characters could make that plunge more like a swan dive off a skyscraper.

Chapter 1: Speechless

Notes:

As always when I post a new work, there are two chapters so I will leave the bulk of my notes in that one.

Soft morning light. Nature’s natural wake up call. Did ancient civilizations use the sun in that manner? Was that how they kept schedules? Not like they had much else to go off of. Guess stars were pretty good too, but they moved around, albeit, a couple hundred years. While not extremely irritating to adjust, it wasn’t very convenient.

Not as much as the alarm clock that still had two hours to go off beside my head.

Typical luck or rather unluck. At least no school or work prompted some urgency to stay awake. A miracle, I know, especially for a full-time worker and full-time student. Medical student. The only degree with more strenuous work was… Well, nothing. Have you seen the mountain of textbooks I had to pay for? They were nearly half my tuition.

Sure, I could work ahead some, but the prospect of sleeping in was too tempting. Not like it was going to happen again anytime soon so I stayed put.

I could’ve lay there dazed on the borderline between dreams and reality for hours if not for my insistent bladder that finally grew fed up with being ignored and resorted to more extreme and rather counterproductive measures to get its way. Without warning, stabbing pain assaulted my abdomen so potently I physically could not breathe. I’ve never been stabbed before but I’m pretty sure that pain was right up there with the real thing. It was all I could do to hunch over on myself. Moving even an inch spiked the agony – the mere thought of sitting up and stumbling the few feet to my bathroom was painfully laughable.

But it beat writhing here, and with more energy than I thought possible I pulled my legs over the side of my bed and limped to the bathroom – barely putting effort into closing the door. Why bother? It only led into my room. Heck, the action was more out of formality and habit than anything. Although probably for the best considering it was sadly getting warmer again, thus no pants or shorts for this girl’s nightwear. Super nice for the hot nights, but kinda awkward if you forget to close the blinds covering the windows peering into your neighbor’s place. Unless they were attractive, I suppose.

Either way, the blinds were down and I made it to the toilet without dying. Thank goodness. And here I thought water being thrown on you was a rude awakening. Obviously that person never had their own bladder try to kill them for a morning call.

Ahhh…. Sleep was very far now, and the chances of returning to that pre-wakeup bliss were slim to none. Just great. Well, had to happen eventually. Just wish it was a bit more complete. I felt weary. Maybe because of the adrenaline? Yeah. Welcome to normal mundane life where the most excitement you’ll get is from your body trying to kill you. Fun right?

Shame I had to scoff at it. Seeing as it was the best drama I could hope to experience – one I’d soon come to long for as a harsh pounding on the front door sounded.

I jumped, frightened both by the sudden noise and how the person literally shook the walls. Who was it? Why were they knocking so loudly? I guess we were still asleep, but still. Any harder and they’d break down the door… Don’t tell me… Did Ryan butt dial the police again? But then, why weren’t they saying anything?

“Ryan? Cleo?” I called, shifting anxiously and hoping they heard it too and were getting the door. Sure I was closer, but they at least slept with shorts on.

Silence.

Dang. Of all days for both of them to be heavy sleepers. That or they, like me, hoped whoever was knocking would leave us be.

If only. Our silence only appeared to tick the person off more as the banging grew oppressive to the point I really didn’t want to answer it – pants or not. Yet even then it failed to deter our early, impatient guest as the sound of the door slamming open tore through the apartment. Oh gosh. Maybe this wasn’t a friendly greeting.

Maybe it was a break in.

Oh gosh. Oh gosh.

What do I do? Run in my room and grab a lamp? But what if they have a gun? I’d be a stupid clown holding a freaking lamp in the face of a barrel – one in her underwear and tank top. Oh gosh. Oh gosh….

Of all times to leave behind my phone…

A deep, distinctly baritone voice sounded in the direction of my room the moment my hand touched the knob. Instantly it was as if the metal was superheated and it took all I had not to yelp as I jumped back until hitting my closet door. The creaking result was like something from a horror movie. Everything stopped and my breath caught in my throat. Did he hear that? Stupid question. Of course he did.

My heart pounded so fiercely that I’m surprised it didn’t give into the shock and fear souring my mouth. This was it. I was going to die. Right here. Right now. Sadly before getting further into my degree to where Gen-Eds faded and the real interesting classes that I signed up for from the start began. It was depressing as hell.

But nothing more than the fear of not seeing my family and friends again.

That alone was enough to send me over.

Literally to my surprise as my heel suddenly swan dived into my closet. Or what I thought was my closet that somehow turned into a bottomless abyss. What was happening? Obviously this had to be a dream. What did I even eat last night? Ten pizzas and Chinese food? Lucid dreams were cool and all, but seriously. Can I wake up now?

No? Thought as much.

A scream tore from my throat per common human instinct when your body feels like it’s about to become a nasty stain on the ground. One that took a very long time to come. Guess the impact at this height would wake me up instantaneously, not to mention give me time to attempt to mentally prepare for the pot-hole awakening. Or so I thought.

I don’t know how much time passed, but enough to quiet my screams and make me a little impatient. Like seriously? How much longer was this going to be? Could it be a hallucination instead of a dream? Was I actually just sitting on my closet floor? If that’s the case then my door should be right here…

My hand passed through a wall of wind. Nope. Scratch that and add another few pages of problems as I noted the difference. My hand. It wasn’t green or mutated or invisible. Rather it was smooth. Okay. Yeah. Smooth skin shouldn’t surprise you so much Violet. I get it. But this was so much more than good complexion. My skin was very smooth. Like picture book drawing smooth.

And it only got weirder as my landing suddenly arrived.

Rest assured I did not end up as a nasty blob. Rather I splashed on nearly invisible black water – the only way I knew it was some liquid being the ripple I created that sent droplets showering around me. The impact wasn’t bad. It hurt a little yet nothing worse than tripping. Not nearly what I expected from that hour long fall. Or at least I assumed it was that long. Kinda hard to keep track of time in a dream.

Or maybe nightmare as the endless abyss now stretched before me.

What now? Stay here and wait for me to wake up? No thank you. Had enough waiting falling to my supposed death. If I was stuck here for a bit longer, I was walking. At least then I’d have some semblance of control and entertainment until I woke up.

If I woke up.

Nope. Not going there. Think positive thoughts. Only positive thoughts. Now’s not the time to let the literal black abyss swallow me up. Keep moving. Gotta keep moving forward and find…something.

Picking a random direction (not like there was any clear choice as everything looked the same), I started forward. This place was weird. It wasn’t cold but it wasn’t hot either. Just like exactly in between. And the water. It wasn’t wet. Don’t call me crazy. Believe me. I already knew I was losing it. But hear me out. My feet were bare and felt the sensation of water, but whenever I lifted them they were practically dry.

Wherever this place was, it must’ve been the core weirdness of all dreams. Nothing made sense. It was unnerving and yet reassuring. I mean if anything, this meant all of this had to be a dream.

Right?

You know. Let’s not go there right now. Let’s just focus on finding…something. Yeah. Something. Can worry about core abyss dream places later.

Apparently my consciousness approved as something at last appeared in the distance. Thank goodness. Something other than endless black. Sure, it could be a monster or something, but at this point I didn’t really care. Heck, if it was that meant I’d wake up. Right? Guess I should be a bit more cautious in case things were prolonged, but desperation has a nasty effect on logic and thinking.

I jogged to the door and the moment I reached it, I opened it without hesitation. Probably not the best idea. I was still pant less and held no idea what lay on the other side. Dream or not, embarrassment was a thing certain to happen if anyone stood on the other side. Not to mention there could be like fire and booby-traps galore. Anything could be waiting and I ran head-first into it.

Fortunately nothing dangerous met me. Unfortunately that didn’t save me from mortification.

Sunshine shone like a spotlight, blinding me temporarily as I stumbled into my new surroundings. At least sunlight meant I wasn’t in a completely creepy desolate place, right? Shame. Such would’ve been a mercy as the moment I blinked enough for my eyes to adjust, a line of stunned faces cleared – every single last one of them trained on little old me.

My face would’ve caught fire if shock didn’t dump a gallon of cold water on me.

I recognized them. No. They weren’t family or friends or people I vaguely knew. No. I knew a lot about these people. Or, rather, characters. They were a part of a series I’d come to adore over the past year. One that included characters based off of real people – of famous authors. Characters that I knew like the back of my hand. Characters who now stared at my half-naked form that burst into their office without any appointment.

Characters from the series Bungou Stray Dogs.

Characters who spoke up in the same bewilderment filling me that only sickened in dread as, after my ears decided to focus through the fog, realized something.

I couldn’t understand a thing they said. No, not because of shock. The reason was far more simple than that.

They spoke Japanese.

I’d just entered a world so many dreamed of, and I couldn’t understand anything the people within it said.

Chapter 2: Pictionary

Summary:

When life gives you stress, play some games.

Could this day get any worse?

Waking up to my bladder stabbing me, getting my apartment broken into, falling into an endless black abyss, landing in an office full of people with only a tank-top and underwear on… And not even the realization that they were the characters I adored made up for anything as they spoke Japanese. And don’t give me that ‘Uh duh of course they speak Japanese, Violet, they’re Japanese authors’ crap. I know. And it freaking sucks because after all those years watching anime and the like all my befuddled brain could do was blank at their jumbled words.

Every once and a while they would say something that I’d catch but at the lightning rate they were going it was like saving a few droplets of water from escaping through my fingers. What good was that? Not like I could respond. Heck it might be better to play off as a mute. You know what? That’s what I’m doing.

Still… Hearing them continue to try and prompt me to speak was getting a bit old. Ahhh, how do I even attempt to communicate with them? Forget speaking, I only knew like three kanji. Hopefully I’d pick some things up as I went on or this was going to be a freaking nightmare when things got serious… How the heck will I even explain about allergies? If they accidentally feed me peanut butter I’ll be dead and not even Yosano will be able to kill me back to life.

Ughhhh. What am I supposed to do?

Movement close to my face caught my attention to where Atsushi leaned down to say something slowly. Of course now they turn the speed down. Shame it barely did a thing as I still didn’t understand. What was he trying to say? If I was okay? Who I was? What was I doing without pants? How I ended up here? Who knew? All I took from it was that this was growing annoying very quickly.

By the teen’s expression, he too was strained by our lack of communication and mutual understanding. Glad I wasn’t the only one. He tried to stammer something coherent, but I think I must’ve given him some sort of look since he only ended up sighing and turning back to tell the others something likely along the lines of: What now?

Good question. Since talking was half the fun in interacting with these characters, sticking around hardly appealed. I mean it’s cool and all but I’d most likely die a gruesome death if I stuck around. Not exactly ideal. But how does one even begin to get out of something like this? Sure a ton of you must be shouting it’s as easy as getting up but haven’t you ever thought about that? Usually when you wake up it’s not consciously – it’s because of some outside factor like an itch or a loud noise or an annoying roommate poking you awake. So if this really was a dream or stress induced Chinese pizza hallucination, I’d have to do some research… If only there was a place I could read up on some in English.

Urghhhhhh. This is really annoying, and their murmurs didn’t help. I mean, come on. It’s not like I understood anything they were saying. Might as well speak normally and not like I’m some malicious spy. Please. What kind of idiot spy walks into their target’s headquarters in their under-

“Hello.”

I flinched. Not that the greeting was spoken in English (no, unfortunately still Japanese but one I understood so I’ll save you all a headache and translate where it fits), but that Yosano suddenly knelt in front of me. When did she get there? What was she doing? Was she going to kill me? Might as well given my recent streak of luck. At least she could bring me back, although hopefully Dazai doesn’t mind his coat getting my blood all over it. Unfortunately tan stains much worse than black.

When the doctor moved I flinched, ready for her to whip out a scalpel and slice me in two like Mori. Apparently they knew each other, so it wasn’t completely out of the blue. Gosh how bad was it going to hurt though? Probably a lot. Although… Maybe now I could tell others what it was like to die. What a morbid silver lining.

Instead of flaying me alive, the doctor placed a hand over her chest and spoke calmly, “Yosano Akiko.”

Uhh, yes? I know that’s your name. Are we introducing ourselves so we know who’s flaying who?

She didn’t move to pull out her arsenal of blades which was tremendously easing on my strained nerves. Matched with her even tone, I almost managed to relax as she proceeded to point to the others in the room, “Kunikida Doppo. Nakajima Atsushi. Dazai Osamu. Tanizaki Naomi. Tanizaki Junichiro. Edogawa Ranpo….”

Yosano continued, naming a good third of the room before her hand gestured in front of me, features silently prompting me to continue the little name game. Ah, smart. At least one of them held the wits to try this. Thought it’d be Dazai, but fits that a medical expert came to the conclusion first.

Without thinking, I immediately replied, more excited that I knew how to order my name than actually pondering the implications, “Fitzgerald Violet.”

Reality crashed the moment I finished in that raspy voice from screaming for eternity in that darkness. Fitzgerald. My last name was Fitzgerald – something I overlooked after years of English classes making the stupid connection with the famous author. An author who was very much an antagonist in this world, or at the very least an antihero. One that would push the city into war and try to kidnap Atsushi.

The very teen who gave me an innocent smile, saying something along the lines of, “Nice to meet you, Fitzgerald-san.”

Talk about sickening. Never knew I’d hate my last name so badly. But by their reactions they had yet to meet or know of the man. Great. Which means T-minus however short time until all hell breaks loose and they tie me down in some torture chamber. Fantastic.

Their chatter in the background only made it worse in that it was completely casual if not excited as if they were relieved to finally get something out of me. How would they react when the Guild came into the picture? No. That was useless to think about. I wouldn’t be here that long. I couldn’t. Right?

Was it even possible to get back?

My chest tightened and breathing became extremely laborious like humid summer days in Florida that practically changed the air into water. Everything swayed and gained phantom afterimages. I felt close to puking and, despite my position on the chair, got an overwhelming sense of walking a tightrope over a bottomless chasm. All of this screaming in my mind alongside a numb realization that I was having a panic attack.

It was by no means my first (please, try working full time at a hospital while being a full time student – medical student with an active participation in a swim team), so fortunately I knew how to calm myself down. Unfortunately this one was bad and required medicine that rested painfully in my backpack beside my bed which might as well be on a different planet. Something I could cruelly see with perfect clarity but was unable to reach.

Breathe. Just breathe. Count ten objects…

Sluggishly I dragged my attention to the blurred room, sight only making my stomach twist more. Just list ten objects. Just ten… A desk, chair, pen, laptop, paper, book….

For some reason, the moment my vision cleared on the book enough to make out its red cover and white kanji, my brain freaked out as if it was a corpse. Something about it greatly unnerved me and I fought not to scream. Why? It was just a book – Dazai’s signature suicide book. Nothing about it was harmful. Or maybe it was another reminder of my situation my hopeless consciousness connected to the object. Talk about backfire of coping mechanisms….

“Fitzgerald-san?” Yosano’s voice was distant and the sound of my surname only spiked the nausea building in my gut.

Not wanting to puke on their floor and make this already mortifying situation worse, I pulled my knees to my chest and tugged Dazai’s coat snuggly against my skin. I hoped the pressure would alleviate some of the panic, but all it did was provide vague warmth that quickly slid away as I buried my head in my knees. It hurt to breathe, like my mind couldn’t be bothered to worry about that as the mountain of fears that had yet to even materialize physically in this world towered above me.

What was I going to do? All I wanted was to go home. To go back to bed. To sleep. To see my friends. To talk to my family. To graduate. To live a peaceful normal life. To maybe one day become an author.

The more I wished and reflected the tighter my chest grew until I was struggling to gasp in breaths. This wasn’t good. If it continued further I’d pass out. As much as the thought of unconsciousness appealed, I didn’t want that now. I wanted out. I wanted away from here.

I wanted to go back home.

A place I feared I could never return to.

That thought proved to be the breaking point as I must’ve whimpered or something as a pair of hands rested on my arms, trying to comfort and guide me away from the darkness, alongside their voices calling me by my surname. It was completely natural and professional of them – by no means a sin or mistake. But it only made things worse and I wanted to scream at them not to call me that way in fear of the retaliation to come, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know, and it frustrated me so much.

Never had I felt so helpless and weak and alone in a room full of people.

“Violet-chan,” I flinched as a gentle hand rested on my shoulder. It was like jumping into a cool spring – sudden and a little rude, but ultimately soothing in ways I couldn’t begin to explain.

Tentatively, I looked up – afraid that abandoning the darkness would backfire and send me into cardiac arrest or worse. However, instead of the office, all that met me was a pair of auburn eyes framed by locks of dark brown hair.

“Dazai…” I faintly felt the name escape my lips like a small breath.

The man gave a weak smile, form blocking out everything else as he knelt in front of me. How clever. Making sure I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by forcing my attention on him alone. I don’t know if the others felt it or it was my imagination, but a quiet fell on the room like a cozy blanket. It made me unbearably tired and he must’ve seen it as he tentatively moved forward as if wary of his actions’ effect on my state of mind.

When my chin rested on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around me in a gentle hug, familiar voice murmuring warmly, “There, there. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re okay…”

Whether it was exhaustion or some side-effect of panic attacks, I understood every word as if he spoke it in perfect English. Which was weird because I remember it was very clearly Japanese. Either way, my body felt heavy in his arms – spent from recent events and the sudden panic attack. His salty scent reminded me of the beaches and ports in St. Augustine and back home in Chesterton. It was soothing and heartbreaking at the same time.

Okay?

I let my weary eyes shut, feeling wet tears slide down my cheeks as the heaviness slowly disappeared alongside my consciousness.

Would I really be okay?

 

…

 

Reality returned much softer than before, and when I opened my eyes the lights were mercifully dimmed in the hospital-like room… Wait. Hospital? Where was I? Oh gosh. Did I faint? What happened? How did I get here? Where was here? Which hospital? Where were the doctors and nurses? Where were my family and friends? How long was I out? What happened? What-?

A calm voice spoke up from my right and it took a minute for me to shake off the reflexive shock only to deadpan at the man who sat with a small smile beside my bed. Dazai. Right. Wonderland without translation. Almost forgot.

Argh. Why was I still here? Shouldn’t fainting wake me up? Urgh…

I must’ve groaned or something as the bandaged man spoke one of the painfully few phrases I actually understood, “Are you okay?”

Kinda ironic seeing as you were the one who said I was earlier. Which begs the question: how come everything he said then was crystal and now we’re back to charades? How annoying.

At any rate I gave a sullen nod. Probably not the most convincing but he didn’t challenge it. Instead, he merely stared back until it grew uncomfortable. Dazai was always the keen one when it came to peering into others’ souls. And dream or not, it felt wrong under his scrutinous gaze – a far cry from any daydreaming writer penning a story about the man. Talk about reality-check. Maybe when I woke up I’d give that stack of works some dose of realism.

If I managed to not cringe at the series every time it came up.

A flurry of words, even spoken at a notably slower rate, spun from his lips. Not a single one made sense. I knew he was asking something, but as for what it could mean: it was anything from if I was sleepy or what my aunt’s middle name was. Sadly, both were likely given his notoriety with random questions. Still, it was more annoying than earlier. Seriously, what I wouldn’t give for subtitles right now.

Thankfully he stopped after a bit. Must’ve had some facial expression cause he chagrinned and apologized, adding something I think was along the lines of, “Sorry. Forgot you don’t understand what I am saying.”

It was cute – or would’ve been if it didn’t feel so blatantly like he was talking to an infant. I mean, I might as well be verbally, but come on. We were practically the same age, and even if I was shorter by a good foot (God Chuuya is taller than me by a couple of inches, can’t wait for that meeting) I wasn’t some helpless kid. Just a bit lost and unable to communicate. Big difference.

My irritation must’ve showed as he trailed off, face contorting in thought before snapping back as he held up a finger and darted toward some cabinets in the back. Weirdo. Guess it’s typical Dazai. Still. Weirdo.

Ahh… Of all the people to wake up to… Where was everyone else? On mission? And they thought leaving me with the presumed perv was a good idea? Guess Yosano would beat him to a pulp if he tried anything….

Hold up.

I shifted my legs, feeling the cool sheets brush against my skin. Dang. I was still pant-less. Hopefully they were all out buying a change of clothes. That would be very much appreciated. If only they could get back like now as Dazai’s return brought a heaping mound of self-consciousness as I shifted away from where he placed a hand barely beside my leg.

If he noticed, he made no indication. Instead, he shoved something hard into my hands, saying another vaguely familiar phrase I think translated to, “Here!”

A notebook. Or rather a hastily stapled together stack of printer sheets. When did he do that? I looked away for like two seconds.

Dazai smiled cutely, scratching the back of his head and saying something. Geez when would he realize I couldn’t understand? I thought he was supposed to be the smart one. Or maybe he was doing it to be annoying? The prick.

Before I could swat him, he shoved a pen in my hand and asked something that sounded like Japanese. Ugh. Really. I’m going to kill him if this keeps up.

Realizing he wasn’t gaining any ground, he reached over and pulled the papers from my hand, scribbling down something before handing it back. I almost threw it in his face. What on Earth made him think I could read anything he drew-

A hastily drawn picture of…canned crab? What was this? Why was he drawing a random- Oh. Duh. He was asking if I was hungry. This wasn’t a reading test; it was a game of Pictionary – a game that unfortunately stood as the best form of communication between us. Awesome.

At any rate, I shook my head. Despite not eating breakfast, all the stress from everything still had me a bit nauseous. Anything I managed to force down would probably just come right back up. Nevertheless….

I drew a glass and some water, turning over the paper so he could see. Dazai smiled, hastily saying something before disappearing out the door. Finally…

I sighed, not realizing how nice it was to be at last alone. Now maybe I could make some sense of things. Like how did I wind up here? What happened to me in reality? How could I return? When would I return? Was it going to be random or in beat with a horrid accident? Would I wake up? Oooh. There’s a chilling thought. If I did get injured, would I return or end up in a hospital bed squirming in pain?

Yeah, not a pretty thought. Maybe I should just play it safe and avoid jumping on train tracks for the time being.

A burst of noise echoed in the room as Dazai returned with the glass, pushing it into my hands while speaking happily. I suppressed a sigh, instead gazing into the clear water that felt cold on my hands. Cold. Not dully but vibrantly. Were dreams usually this vivid? None that I recalled… But this couldn’t possibly be real…

Right?

“Violet-chan?” Dazai tilted his head, smile wavering as he glanced between me and the glass before giving a faint ‘Ah-ha’ sound and pointing to the water while saying, “Mizu.”

Mizu? What was that? It sounded familiar… Was it water? Was he trying to teach me what it was called? If that’s his plan then this is going to be a hell of a long twist on Spanish class. Ideally it wouldn’t end the same way with learning the same stuff for ten years straight. No. I mean immersion always helped, right? That’s why exchange trips were so admired and elevated. Although how they expected high school students, let alone college ones living off of ramen to afford such remains a mystery.

Nevertheless, it was progress and a sign he at least wasn’t giving up and dumping me in the streets, so I replied, “Wa…ter.”

Whether it was from lack of speaking for so long or the different language, my nose scrunched up as my mouth fought to make sense of the new motions. Its effect on Dazai though was well worth it as he smiled and nodded, “Yes. Water. That’s water.”

Huh. The little things.

“Water…” I repeated a little easier, gazing at my blurred reflection in the water. It was different from what I was used to – smoother and cartoonier. But I liked it. For once my hair wasn’t so messy and rested in nice waves over my shoulders.

Maybe being stuck here wasn’t entirely bad.

I gulped down the water, relishing in its cool touch against my parched and abused throat. Once finished, I set it down on the side table and began a silent conversation with the bandaged man. With each picture that filled the page, the weight physically left my bones and muscles and I actually managed a smile. It was by no means perfect, as we both confounded each other multiple times, but it was progress to moving forward.

If anything, by the time I woke up or learned enough Japanese to get by without Pictionary, I’d be one hell of a Michelangelo. 

Notes:

Hello all~

First thing's first, no I am not abandoning Untouchable or Going Under. Just that I needed a break from them - hence this work cause I've always found First POV to be a bit refreshing and easy to write myself out of a writers block. In saying that I do hold some direction for this story, but it probably won't lead anywhere because it is intended to be a sort of freelance work. Still, anything can happen so we'll just have to wait and see.

As for Violet, if you haven't picked up it already you probably will later that she does suffer from panic attacks and other things that may be triggering for others. I will post warnings in future chapters as things will not always be rays of sunshine for her.

Chapter 3: Culture Shock

Summary:

Communication is a two way street, but sometimes that path is not the smoothest despite both holding the best of intentions.

“She talked to you?!”

Stunned and slightly suspicious stares pinned Dazai from where he and the others gathered in the doorway to Yosano’s office. Of everyone, Kunikida wore the most incredulous expression, continuing in a more hushed tone so that the person of interest could not overhear, “I thought she couldn’t understand what we were saying. Are you telling me it was all a trick?”

Was this a trap? But why? Who sent her? What were they after?

“No, no. You’re overthinking things, Kunikida-kun,” Dazai chuckled, “I say ‘talk’ but it was more like a game of charades and brief moments where she’d mimic what I said. See?”

He turned, grabbing a glass and calling to the other side of the room. “Violet-chan! Can you tell me what this is?” Dazai pointed to the fluid inside.

His voice tore the young blonde from where she twirled in front of the mirror to get a better look at her outfit plucked from the bag of clothes Yosano and the others gathered. It was a simple knitted sweater a little too big for her and some jean shorts that were mostly concealed by the off-white fabric, revealing her long legs partially obscured by a pair of canvas flats. The outfit was one of three that she concocted from the array of clothes brought – each unique yet very complementing to her features and preferences.

Violet’s olive gaze pinned them inquisitively like a dog would its owner, curiosity giving way to observation; observation to question; question to slight irritation; and irritation to a soft answer as she tilted her head and replied to their astonishment, “Wa-ter.”

Grinning at their surprise, Dazai praised her warmly, “Very good, Violet-chan. Very good.”

His praise made her cheeks bloom pink, feet shifting as her lips formed a somewhat embarrassed pout. Did she misunderstand him? Or perhaps she did not like how he treated her? He’d have to experiment a bit more to find out.

“See? She’s learning fairly quickly. Already she can say what she likes and doesn’t like, along with a few other things like hot and cold, and good and bad,” he explained like a proud teacher.

“That’s great to hear,” Atsushi smiled meekly, gazing over to where Naomi pulled the young woman back into picking out some accessories alongside the other secretaries – all excited to play dress up with their strange guest.

“Yeah, but it won’t help much in finding out how or why she walked out of a server room with barely any clothes on,” Ranpo frowned. Indeed, how did she manage that? Not only was it highly improbable she snuck in with the audacity to wear no pants or skirt, but Kunikida inspected a glitch only fifteen minutes prior.

In the bustling late morning office, it was impossible that someone as eye-catching as a half-naked woman could sneak by all of them – especially him.

“Well, I suppose we just need more time then,” Dazai responded casually, smile widening on his features as he observed her like an interesting new game.

“Hey, Dazai” Kunikida growled, “Don’t get any ideas. We’re a detective agency, not some baby-sitting group or nursing home. We can’t watch her until she can communicate effectively – considering she actually tells the truth when the moment comes. We’re better off sending her to a hospital or mental institute.”

The brunette frowned, Yosano speaking up in mild objection, “While I do not completely disagree, I think it would be best to keep her here for a few days. If what Dazai says is true, then she will gain enough ability to communicate effectively soon. Besides, based on what I can tell, she appears to have mild amnesia. Until I can discern that the cause does not continue to threaten her, it’s best we keep her close.”

Her point cast a somber atmosphere on them as they returned to observing the woman blink as Haruno placed a simple, silver flower hairpin in her golden locks. Why did she stumble into their office? Did she get lost? Or was it a ruse? Or maybe she was attacked? She seemed distressed by her own last name – so maybe a family member was to blame?

So many questions… Dazai’s smirk was alone as they gazed at Violet, who tentatively touched the accessory before smiling and echoing Naomi, “Hairpin. I like it!”

Giggles filled the corner of the room, and for once I was not embarrassed or ashamed. Something about the secretaries amusement and energy in not simply picking up where Dazai left off but also finding value in being with me felt nice. Not to mention their help in re-arranging the heap of clothes Yosano dropped down at my feet was irreplaceable.

So far, out of the outfits pulled together, I liked the floral blouse Haruno picked out with some black, ballet-like flats and olive shorts that matched my eyes perfectly. It was cute yet somewhat refined and seemed to fit the feel of the Agency. Maybe I’d make it my go-to outfit. Although the one I wore now was extremely comfy, not to mention incorporated the clothes I owned. It was small, but it felt nice to keep them. Not to mention relieving as they thankfully left underwear shopping to me.

Thank goodness. Even if they saw me half naked, at least they were merciful enough to save me that embarrassment.

Nevertheless, I’d have to find a good strapless bra for the more formal outfit. I say formal, but it’s really just a longer off-pink high-low skirt with transparent lace surrounding it and a strapless navy top hidden so it made the two appear more like one outfit than two separate articles of clothing. Still, from what I could tell about the sparkling hairpin keeping back the stray strands of gold from my loose bun, it would go excellently with this.

Goodness… Talk about leaping from one extreme to the next. I felt amazing. Not only was I able to speak a little with them (although whatever Dazai did a few seconds ago was sketch and made me feel like some pet), but the new clothing added to the sense of being more, I don’t know, me instead of some helpless mute dependent on a bunch of sheets bound together haphazardly after most were filled with random drawings.

Maybe one day I’d be able to push them aside and speak normally…

One day? Whoa. Hold on. As nice as this was, I didn’t really want to stay that long. As crap as my life was in reality, it was mine. Not to mention family and friends – both irreplaceable. I couldn’t just abandon them and live here.

As fun as it would be when I could actually speak and understand them, I needed to wake up. I needed to go home.

“Violet-chan?” Naomi asked, features juxtaposing greatly from the soft smiles and giggles that also declined into sober concern, “Are you alright?”

Crap. Spaced out. Shouldn’t try and worry the people helping me and potentially going to offer me a place to sleep and food. Oh gosh. Shelter and food. You never really think about that until you’re thrown into another world without a cent to your name or means to actually buy said items.

Were they going to help? Surely they would. They were the protagonists. They had moral obligations. And yet… Why did I feel uncertain? Uncertain? No. It was worse, like there were thousands of dark eyes stabbing my back…

Following the instinctual urge to look over my shoulder, I found the true source of those “malicious” eyes, or rather Dazai and co. Creeps. Even if we couldn’t speak easily, common courtesy said it was impolite to stare.

Frowning, I did my best to put up a confident front like I could actually take on any of them, “What?”

All of them flinched – or rather all but Dazai. Jerk. Did he say something about me? I swear if he implied we flirted or slept together than I’ll punch him. Although, by the way their eyes widened it felt more like surprise than inappropriate thoughts. Probably because of my poor Japanese. It sounded so good in my head, but actually speaking was more difficult. Like every word was pronounced with a certain tone I couldn’t quite grasp. Would have to work on that. At the very least I had the sketchbook one of the other secretaries (Yuu I think his name was?) brought over.

Odd. I knew from the manga there were more members of the Agency, but actually meeting them and witnessing each’s vibrant personalities made them feel more alive than faceless characters. Had my mind dreamt up their personas to keep things fluid and running smoothly? Either way, it felt bad to ignore them in favor of the main protagonists. I mean, purposely being ignored is hardly fun. I may not be a saint but doing so to them felt wrong and made me squirm uncomfortably.

Yeah. I needed to get out fast, or at least gain a better understanding of the situation so I wouldn’t cave to another panic attack. As nice as it was being hugged by Dazai, I’d rather not feel like my insides were replaced with thick mud.

So… First things first: when was this?

A glance around the office barely revealed anything. Probably because it was one of the few places that ever changed. I mean, Atsushi’s presence and Dazai’s tan coat gave some hints, but there still stretched the entire series after the first chapter. My mind instantly jumped to the Guild. That would be a good place to start, but how did I ascertain they were actually here? Oh, right, last name. Almost forgot.

I looked up at where Kunikida and the others once more engaged in harsh whispers. They didn’t flinch at my name, so we were before that? But how far? At the very beginning or near the end? How could I tell for sure? How…? Think. Think…

What happened in these events that marked an important point in the timeline? Argh. If only I paid more attention in the beginning instead of fawning over each of them and Dazai and Chuuya’s interactions…

Wait. Dazai and Chuuya. That’s it!

A startled yelp left a few of the secretaries closer to me as I jumped to my feet. Oops, my bad. I tried to give an apologetic look to cover the rising excitement at finally having a place to start. I say as if it was actually a good idea. Oh gosh. Did I just make an idiot of myself? Chuuya was a part of the Mafia – something starkly clear to one person in particular in the room. Someone I hadn’t thought much of until then.

“Violet-chan? What is it?” Dazai approached.

Crap. Was I letting my guard down because he was familiar? Was that such a good idea? As exciting as it was to get to know the man, right now it felt like staring into a dangerous chasm. No, I was not giving up on him – I’d pry some answers before this dream ended. But I just realized that playing cat and mouse with the devious man was not good for my health and survival at all.

I mean, if the aftereffects of that panic attack on my sore muscles were any indicator, pain was not a trigger to wake up. And I shuddered at the prospect of the numerous ways to get maimed and killed – most of which he invented.

Still, going back to square one hardly appealed. I needed this information to retain some sanity. So how could I ask the super genius without giving too much away? Think. Where would Chuuya likely be if he was still here? Port Mafia? Yeah, that’s a big no. The port? As in the one that stretches forever along this city? Too long. Maybe in a bar? Nah. Then where…?

Wine. Duh. It’s not perfect but a pretty obvious place to start. Ugh. Ignore my stupidity for a moment, please.

Seeing as the word was yet another new one, I snatched up my sketchbook and hastily drew a wine bottle, hesitating only a little upon showing them. Was this too obvious? Or weird? I mean I did just wake up and meet them. Would they think I’m some sort of alcoholic? Ugh. Not the image I wanted.

Wait. Why do I care? It’s not like I’m going to be here in the long run.

Turning it over, I pointed to the picture and the door. What was the word for want again? Damn. Of all times. Guess it was a bit of a miracle to speak this much so soon, but it failed to make communication any less annoying. Where’s the instant “presto you know Japanese” button that all OCs manage to get whenever they’re thrown into this universe? Did they discontinue it? Rude much.

“Wine?” Atsushi frowned. Wine? That’s the word for wine? Come on. At least make it an obnoxiously long word and make me feel a little better.

I nodded, pointing from the picture to the door and, thankfully knowing the word already, “Let’s go.”

“Eh?” the teen stammered. Oh come on, did I mix up the words? How annoying. If a presto translator button could appear, now would be an excellent time.

Thankfully, by the way Kunikida immediately responded with stern words that were spoken too fast for me to comprehend (jerk must’ve known and purposely done so), my message was clear enough. Nevertheless, it did not appear popularly liked as they all frowned down at me, jumping between bickering with one another and saying something to me. By their tone, I probably wasn’t going anywhere.

Why? This was so stupid. Were they grounding me? Why? What did I do? I guess walk into their lives from a server room in my underwear, but still. Me? A threat? Hardly. So let me freaking go. I’d find a wine shop eventually with or without them. Heck. If they didn’t come I might as well go straight to Port Mafia and cut out the middle man. Hopefully I’d receive better hospitality from them and not get tortured to death. Hmm, would have to think about how to go about it on the way.

Unfortunately, there stood a crowd of arguing ability users between me and the way out. Unless I planned on hopping out the window and going splat, leaving would have to wait. Seriously though. How annoying. Not even the secretaries could provide some relief as they joined in the discussion and some smaller ones – all of which too complex for my Beginner’s Japanese Kit. What I wouldn’t give for subtitles.

I could feel my stress levels rise with each second. Great, just what I needed right now. Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I tried calming my nerves but each unfamiliar word was like getting prodded with a hot iron rod. My back killed like I slept on it the wrong way and I felt my throat begin to constrict. Panic attack in T-minus three seconds.

A ray of hope shone as I noticed probably the only empty hallway with no one between me and it. In hindsight, it was a bit creepy – like the ominous hallway in horror movies you know won’t lead to anything good. But right now it looked amazing, probably what any horror movie victim thought in the moment. Hopefully whatever demon resided beyond it wouldn’t eat me alive. That’d be kinda a sad way to go.

Be that as it may, I was close to puking or screaming or both. Whatever hid in those shadows had to be better than this. And that’s all the convincing I needed to walk that way. By some miracle, no one seemed to notice. My siblings always said I had light feet, but I thought for sure one of them – Ranpo and Dazai especially – would’ve noticed. Guess they were too busy arguing about my grounding terms.

With each step, their voices grew quieter. It was like fresh spring water to my nerves, and I think breathing grew a little easier. Still, the overwhelming urge to jump back into that bed and curl up in the covers was relentless. Sadly that wasn’t an option as my weak knowledge of the layout said the infirmary was the other way, but maybe I’d be able to find a couch or something this way. Wherever it led to.

Spotting the door at the end, I ran toward it. Don’t ask me why. Probably nerves still, but the moment I opened it, I didn’t waste a second to look inside before closing the door. Again, not the smartest move, but what can I say? Panic does wild things to your mind.

Not to mention apparently leading you to the most zen place in the building. Whoever’s room this was, it felt like they took it out of a spa magazine. Heck, it even had a bonsai plant and tatami mats. Talk about perfect alternative to a blanket burrito. Well, sort of as a sudden spike in the volume of voices on the other side of the door strained my frayed nerves – switching on the fight or flight system in me. And like any normal person, I chose flight.

Or rather jumping beneath the desk at the end and curling up into a ball. Talk about pathetic. Hopefully no one would come in for a while. This was already bad enough; I couldn’t take more embarrassment or honestly anything else at the moment. Everything built up again. How did I not notice? Would this be the hell I’d endure in this world? Jumping from one panic attack to another? If that was the case I was better off jumping with Dazai off some bridge…

I felt the tears begin to sting my eyes. Awesome, just what I needed. Crying. At least it would ease up the tension. If only I could actually shed a tear. Why? Why, now of all times, was my body resisting? What was happening? Why couldn’t I just do that simple thing? I felt horrible. Worse than ever before, and the only thing I could do was pull my knees up and bury my face in them.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that. Minutes, hours, seconds? But no one came in even after the voices died down. Did they give up on me? Or assume I was back in the infirmary? They couldn’t possibly have lost me, right? If that was the case then I seriously overestimated them.

So much for master detectives… They couldn’t even find one lost girl.

Instead of making me feel better, it only made me feel worse. Guess that’s what they say about hurting people hurt people with snarky words and stinging comments. Still, would it kill the universe to let me have some cynical satisfaction? Apparently so. Gosh, I never felt so alone.

I squeezed my knees tighter, hoping the closeness could conjure some sort of phantom arms that hugged me and made the loneliness go away. It helped, if helping equated to adding a drop of water to a shriveled up plant. I wanted to be found, but at the same time I didn’t. It was confusing and painful and left me huddled beneath the desk without a clue of what to do.

Something soft and light fell on my head and spread like water down my back and shoulders. For half a second I thought it was – that someone finally did find me and dumped a glass as punishment for wandering off in some place that was probably off-limits. However, the lingering darkness it provided made me think otherwise, and when I tentatively lifted my head a gold trimmed black coat shifted a little to reveal a green back partially obscured by the desk.

Fukuzawa. Great. That meant this was his office. Awesome. Explains the zen and tatami mats.

Still, of all the people to find me he was probably a blessing. Out of everyone in this rambunctious place, he was the quietest, and right now noise was not a good thing. Not to mention his presence was oddly reassuring.  Like a silent protector who I also knew was a huge teddy bear at times – him dumping his coat over me all the proof I needed for that conjecture.

Nevertheless, I felt guilty for hiding out in his office, especially since we never met and I sat square beneath the desk, thus barring him from his work. Quietly, I murmured, “Sorry…”

He breathed out. Was that his version of “It’s okay” or “How annoying”? I couldn’t tell. Heck, barely anyone could read this guy. Wonder how his team ups with Mori went. Likely not any better than Chuuya and Dazai. I mean they did nearly slaughter each other in Fyodor’s arc. Although I suppose that was out of mutual agreement to protect the city. Talk about twisted logic.

Even then… I tugged his coat tighter against me, letting it act as a makeshift blanket. It smelled like pine and mountain air. How was that possible when he practically never left Yokohama? Maybe he used some fancy detergent? Or recently took a vacation. Lord knows he of all people needed one before things got really hectic.

As odd as it was, it smelled nice and I let it surround me. The quiet that once screamed at me now mellowed to tranquility only someone like him could create. It felt nice and slowly calmed me down to the point I felt drained and sleepy. While snoozing off under a desk hardly appealed, at this point it felt right. Thus with the last ounce of awareness left, I held onto the coat and leaned against his shoulder, finding his warmth and stronger scent a perfect lullaby as the darkness overtook my senses at long last.

Notes:

Sporadic update much. I plan on having regularish updates on Tuesdays but like I said earlier it might change as I work on the other stories.

Anyways, felt it was important to add the others' POV to the story as miscommunication has grown to a rather overarching theme. That and as fun as First POV is, I do enjoy writing in Third a lot

Thank you cassjo for the lovely comments and kudos~ Didn't think I'd get some so quickly ♥

Chapter 4: Confounded Familiarity

Summary:

Even familiar faces can grow distorted in darkness and time's wake.

Panic steadily built, and no matter how hard I tried to keep my breaths even they still came out shaky like my hand that trembled in Yosano’s soft grip. Coming to this world was insane and quickly turning out to be just jumping from one panic attack to the next. Hopefully it would end, cause I didn’t think my heart could take much more.

“It’s alright, Violet,” Yosano cooed softly like a mother comforting her child, “You’re alright.”

Her soothing voice nearly made me relax, but the box she slid over my finger quickly reversed all her efforts and I’m ashamed to say made me whimper a little. It’s hard enough not being able to speak effectively, especially in situations like this when all I wanted to do was ask if she could just use one of her butcher knives instead. Honestly, I’m 90 percent certain it would be less painful than this box of death that scarred my childhood doctor visits.

Holding tight with a grip I should’ve given her credit for, Yosano swiftly pushed down on the tiny blue box when it fully covered my fingertip. A yelp left my throat as a sharp blade jabbed the pad of my finger painfully. Whoever invented this monstrosity thinking it would help needed to be thrown into a ditch. Finger pricks absolutely suck.

“There, there…” Yosano smiled softly, at last revealing my finger that now sported a red bead of blood dripping down that she quickly collected on a white strip. She went on to say something along the lines that I was okay while placing a bandage over it.

Okay? More like emotionally traumatized for no reason. So much for a friendly check-up.

Ever since passing out in Fukuzawa’s office, the Agency members seemed to tiptoe around me. Not in a bad or bullying way, but more like they were afraid to upset me or something. Unfortunately they still were barring my escape, but so long as I didn’t try I was pretty much a second, less obnoxious and talkative Ranpo. Guess Fukuzawa must’ve said something when they finally found out I snuck into his office.

It was nice of him, especially considering he let me sleep on his couch (guess he really did need to work when he came in) undisturbed by the others. Heck, he even let me keep his coat for the time, although I’d like to have seen him try to pry it from my hands even when I was asleep. Sure he was some former hitman, but I had a steel grip that not even bashing my nose and seeing stars after nearly crashing while tubbing could break.

Either way, his intentions were kind and fully in character of how I saw him. Shame they had to be broken by a sharp pain that literally had me jerking awake and curling in on myself. In hindsight it was probably hunger pains as I hadn’t eaten in almost 20 hours, but at the time I thought I was stabbed by some insane assassin that manage to get by all of them. Apparently they were thinking along the same lines, although much less dramatically.

Hence the very thorough check up by Yosano that hopefully ended with this abomination.

Geez. It was bad enough that she was acting all nice and gentle like a regular doctor. I mean, not to say I wanted her to flay me alive, but I’d rather have her normal snark than this mask. Why was she wearing it anyways? Did she and the others think I’d been abused? Gosh. That would make sense given my lack of clothes, panic attacks, and rude awakening. Lordy. How am I going to get that nonsense out of their heads? Pictionary won’t be near enough unless some burst of creativity hits me soon.

Speaking of...

Yosano brought the sketchbook over, setting it in between us and drawing a set of stick figures, pointing to them then me while saying, “Family?”

Oh? There’s a familiar word. So she wanted to know about my family? Oh gosh, was she thinking they abused me? Oh no. Let’s set this straight at the very least.

Giving a bright smile, I nodded and took the marker from her, doing my best to draw out my family in better detail than some stick figures. Heck, I went to town with it – making sure to capture some of their more notable features. Yosano didn’t seem to mind and watched quietly as I drew and colored in their features. In the end, it didn’t turn out too terrible and I was able to giggle a little bit at how my older brother’s messy hair looked perfectly accurate.

Beginning with the only one with strawberry blonde hair, I fumbled a little for the words before selecting a more casual form that suited my relationship with the person, “Mom. Beautiful.”

Moving to the blonde with stunning green eyes that glowed electrifying with life like I recalled so clearly despite not seeing him for a while, I said, “Dad. Funny.”

“Older brother. Scott. I like. Younger sister. Alice,” I pointed to the tall, lofty haired person beside my dad and smaller girl who looked shockingly like Elise (even with her name) now that I think about it. Indeed, if not for her green eyes, I might have slipped and said Elise’s name.

Ending with my poor self-portrait in the middle that hopefully showed positive relations that would banish the thought they would even think of hurting me, I ended, “Me. Violet. My family. I love.”

Yosano was silent for a moment, and gazed at my sloppy family portrait. She was probably trying to piece together my jumbled words. I was confident in them alone, but putting them into sentences is where I really fumbled and didn’t want to look like an idiot who didn’t know the language even though it was true. Sure, it’d help whenever I finally got out of this world, but I could use Rosetta Stone or something like that to save the embarrassment.

Besides, it was looking to be enough as she finally sighed and smiled, “I see. Thank you.”

I smiled, somewhat glad she didn’t push further. While nice to sort of talk about, thinking about my family began to hurt. It’d been a long time since I saw any of them, and only now when the prospect of visiting grew ten times more complicated than my work and school schedule did it finally settle in. I wanted to see them, but so long as I stayed here it was impossible. Man… Talk about homesickness.

Whether she saw this or not, Yosano turned and disappeared into her office, coming back shortly with a pair of glasses and a…wine bottle? What was this? I tilted my head curiously, trying to recognize the familiar design under the kanji. Did she buy this for me? Was this some sort of compensation for the check-up or not letting me leave?

She said something, ending with what I think was something along the lines of it’s not bad. Good. Would hate to have some vinegar as a peace offering. And she was right. The stuff wasn’t half bad. I always did enjoy red wines, so this one was a good choice from the start. Did she deduce that? She was a detective, but even then I was impressed if it was more than a simple guess. Maybe Ranpo miraculously predicted it by a stray hair on my shoulder? Who knows?

All that mattered right now was things were beginning to look up. Don’t know how smart it was to give me alcohol on a stomach of hastily brought together snacks and an apple, but it worked for now. It was all in all nice, and Yosano smiled and made quiet conversation through the sketchbook. We talked about things we liked and didn’t like – similar to what Dazai did.

I don’t know how long we ended up doing it, but by the time the room grew dim we finished seven full pages front and back alongside the bottle. Warmth encased me and I was more than content to allow her to gently push me down onto the bed and sleep. For perhaps the first time in this world, I could finally doze off in peace.

Maybe next time I could do so without the aid of alcohol.

Still, it wasn’t long until that too wore off. Sleeping in the Agency sounds like fun, but it’s actually kind of totally creepy. Like abandoned school creepy. Just the feeling of a place that’s normally bursting at the seams with life now empty and silent… Not to mention full of secrets and plain knowledge to enemies like Port Mafia. Even though I was fairly certain the latter wouldn’t do something as bold as to attack this place, the darkness and quiet did a number on my mind.

Thankfully Yosano, the saint she is, stuck around. And if someone with the ability to bring half-dead people back to life wasn’t reassuring enough, I don’t know what is. All in all, she was amazing and managed to calm down more than a few anxiety attacks that night. I felt bad, seeing as she probably was going to pull an all-nighter for my sake. Surely she had better things to do, but all she did was smile and stroke my head while murmuring it was okay and I was safe. I didn’t know how that made me feel, but I didn’t have long to ponder as her tender actions quickly sent me back into dreamless sleep.

A sleep ultimately disturbed by muffled sounds of distress. What was that? What was going on? I turned over on the cot, blinking away the sleep clinging to my eyes. Morning light drifted in from the window, casting gentle rays over the hunched form quietly sleeping on the desk across the room. Yosano must’ve finally passed out. By the way a blanket draped over her shoulders, someone must’ve taken over only for her to stubbornly stay put. Or so that’s the story I concluded.

All in all, she was dead to the world – not even flinching as the sounds spiked and I think something broke. Geez. She must be used to this chaos. To be fair, Sunday mornings were often the same at my place when we all still lived under the same roof, but that was almost four years ago. Hearing it now was a bit nostalgic but much more worrisome given the people I now shared a roof with.

Guess it was better to see what was up than stay here, so I got up on weary legs and stumbled my way to the door, taking the heavy comforter with me. What? I wasn’t leaving my warm nest so easily. Besides, these people saw me in my underwear. We were far past embarrassment from blankets and bed-heads.

Quietly, I opened and closed the door, wincing as the voices grew louder and made Yosano shift. Hopefully she’d fall back asleep quickly. She deserved some rest especially after the countless times I woke up to her sitting by my bedside.

From within the voices I think I heard Atsushi yell something and…was that Dazai? He sounded weird. What was….?

Peering around the corner I found my answer in the craziness of the Agency office. Nothing was overturned or in shambles, well except for a coffee mug that probably was what woke me up in the first place. However, it couldn’t be further from its usual state. Or rather what I assumed to be normal for this insane place.

Cause any organization employing Dazai couldn’t possibly be normal.

Case in point the numerous secretaries hiding beneath their desks as the bandaged man jumped up on one and began shouting stuff in a loopy voice. If that wasn’t indication enough of what was happening, the purple hue painting his face and bitten green mushroom in his hand spoke volumes. All of which happening at 8:30 in the morning.

It was a miracle these people survived.

“Dazai-san, please!” Atsushi attempted to calm down his superior. Noble intentions but pointless considering the man.

What was happening? Was this another suicide attempt or Dazai being weirder than usual? Like that was honestly a question. Please, the red book was plain enough to see even without being able to read its cover.

“Violet-chan!” I jumped at the cruelly loud voice to my still awakening ears as Dazai suddenly jumped from across the room to right in front of me. How the heck-?

He began spouting something in a slurred voice excitedly. Normally I’d brush it off, but whatever effect that mushroom had on him amplified his oddity to uncomfortable levels. Not to mention he was practically on top of me as he continued too impaired for my mind to come close to translating even a single word.

Be that as it may, some things were clear even without translation as he suddenly latched onto my wrist the moment I shifted back. For a guy who’s pretty much all bandages and little else, Dazai had one hell of a vice grip. I don’t know if it was from the mushroom or not, but I began to lose feeling in my hand quickly, and his nails dug into my skin whenever either of us so much as flinched.

“Dazai… It hurts…!” I tried tugging away, pushing at his hand vainly and hoping he held some lingering part of himself to understand and back off.

Unfortunately, he was too far gone and continued unabashedly as if we were simply holding hands. This wasn’t good. Who knew what he’d do? My mind instantly jumped to worse case scenarios – like him shoving us out the window or accidentally throwing me into a table. All of which did nothing to help my nerves.

In a last ditch effort, I turned to call Atsushi. Sure his tiger strength was useless against Dazai, but I liked my odds better with him around. Yet right as I went to open my mouth and call for him, something with a pungent earthy taste pushed inside so suddenly I nearly choked. What the heck? I jerked back only for Dazai to tug me so I fell on his chest. At any other time I’d blush furiously, but the fact that his other hand was trying to push in the very same mushroom that drove him insane to begin with shoved all that away.

Kinda kills the mood when someone tries to drug you.

Forcing myself not to bite down or swallow, I struggled against him as he cooed something probably along the lines of just one bite. Like hell. I could put up with a lot of things, but this was not one of them. Fortunately all that time I spent in the pool paid off in that I could hold my breath for longer than the average person. Unfortunately, Dazai was slippery as a snake even this close as every effort I took in shoving him off failed. Not even the startled yells and aid of the other office workers and Atsushi helped pry him off.

“Dazai-san, stop!” Atsushi pleaded, trying to shove himself between us to no avail. While sweet and good intentioned, it only pushed more air from my lungs to the point tears lined my eyes.

I knew the mushroom probably wouldn’t kill and even then Yosano would save us before then, but getting drugged hardly appealed. As crazy as this place was, I liked it better in my right mind than impaired. Still, it was looking like I didn’t have much of a choice as Dazai continued relentlessly in a sing-song voice, “Come on, Violet-chan~”

No! I wanted to scream but everything grew hazy and my legs began to wobble unsteadily as the blanket fell from my shoulders. My head pounded from lack of oxygen and faintly began pleading just to comply and end the agony. Would’ve been nice if my pride would allow me to do so. Yet just as it borderlined unbearable, a swift jab sent Dazai and the others flying across the room.

Instantly I collapsed and began coughing violently – body at last being able to reject the mushroom. My lungs burned and I felt extremely lightheaded. What happened? Did Dazai finally gain back some control?

“Are you alright, Violet?”

Nope. Not quite. More like he got punched away by my new favorite character who knelt beside me, her magenta eyes swimming with concern and lingering fire to beat the crap out of the man.

Not wanting to see Dazai get pummeled to near death where he’d actually need a hospital, I nodded. Yosano didn’t seem convinced, and I’m guessing my continued coughing didn’t help, but sighed and shot a sideways glare where Dazai miraculously recovered and continued terrorizing the others. Poor souls. Wish I could help, but honestly I needed a break. My wrist throbbed. I got up only a few minutes ago but sleep felt like heaven right now.

Yosano helped me up and muttered something under her breath. Guessing it was about Dazai and how she wished she could use her ability on him. For better or worse, he escaped her punishment for now, but if she really wanted to get back at him I’m sure she’d find a way. At any rate, I was more than content to allow her to guide us back to the infirmary. Hopefully she had something in case I swallowed a bit of the mushroom…

Casting a glance back, something strange happened as Kunikida finally arrived (seriously, where the heck was he? I thought he was Mr. Punctual. Guess not) and Atsushi turned to him for help. My mind was foggy but something weird hit me in that moment. Almost like déjà vu. What was it? Gosh, I hope it wasn’t the mushroom.

Damn. Next time Dazai came over, I’d be sure to keep him at arm’s length unless it meant slapping him for giving such a rude awakening. Although, judging by Kunikida’s outburst and subsequent crash, I’m guessing he already took care of that.

Notes:

Okay back to a somewhat usual upload schedule of Tuesdays and then maybe a random day if work and inspiration allows. From here the story will pick up a little. About the shortest intro arc I've ever done but good enough for this story as the repetitive theme will last for a long time but should grow easier as Violet learns the language.

Hope you all enjoy~

Chapter 5: Ready or Not

Summary:

Life barrels forward whether one's ready or not.

“Violet-chan, come on... I promise I won’t do anything,” Dazai pleaded, reaching out a hand to the mound of blankets in the corner of the infirmary. From within it, he made out a pair of olive eyes glint back at him as a barely audible hiss emerged.

“Just hear me out, okay? I won’t hurt you,” he promised softly, inching forward only for a pillow to hit his face.

“Give it up Dazai,” Kunikida growled from beside Yosano’s desk, “She’s not going to come out anytime soon, especially to you of all people. Just let her be.”

Dazai pouted, holding the pillow and frowning at the girl inside the mound of blankets and pillows as she glared at him suspiciously and tugged her shell closer. He sighed and got up, placing the pillow outside the opening and watching with mild amusement how a small hand hesitantly peeked out to snatch it back. He would’ve laughed if not for the bruise marks painted on her skin.

He messed up big time.

Approaching the others, he listened as Yosano gave her findings from the examination, “From what I can tell, Violet is healthy. More than that, she’s in better shape than the average civilian – I’m guessing because she engages in some sport, probably running or swimming by her lean muscles. There’s no sign of physical abuse, which means whatever happened to her was psychological or emotional.”

“What about her amnesia?” Atsushi questioned worriedly, “Do you know what caused it?”

Yosano frowned, “At this point, no. Although since she doesn’t have any injuries, I’m guessing she was injected with something. As to what, I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until her blood tests come back.”

“I see…” the teen murmured as Kunikida spoke, “What of her family and other relations? Did you manage to locate any of them, or an address of her home?”

“That’s where it gets really interesting,” the doctor replied soberly, turning to her screen and pulling up a profile half finished with a photo of Violet taken inside the room, “I put this together this morning before everyone came in. When I ran her fingerprints and blood through the system, nothing came up – not even when I used an international database. She’s not in any system anywhere, nor anyone fitting her description for that matter.”

“Strange…” Kunikida’s frown was mirrored by his partner who at last spoke, “Is Violet-chan hiding a dark secret, I wonder?”

Their gazes swiveled back to the mound of blankets. What was she hiding? With each passing moment she grew more and more mysterious. Dazai narrowed his eyes suspiciously. While not grating ominously against him, he didn’t like not knowing a lot about their new guest. Perhaps what bothered him most was their inability to fully communicate with her. Did whatever poison that harmed her memory also impair her ability to speak? It seemed possible enough. He’d have to look up poisons capable of such in his free-time. Maybe then they could finally have a lead and start to unravel the mystery she presented.

“Either way, we’ll look into it later. As of now, we have a job to perform,” Kunikida stated as he turned and departed, calling out to Yosano as he exited, “I’ll leave Violet in your care.”

Yosano smiled as Atsushi and Dazai filed out after him, latter stopping and shooting one last look at the glowing eyes in the blankets before sighing and following the other two.

As they left the building and began piling in Kunikida’s car, the blonde growled, “Quit moping around, idiot. You only have yourself to blame for attacking her.”

“But it’s been an entire day, Kunikida-kun,” Dazai groaned, resting his chin in his hand and looking out the window dejectedly while muttering, “I didn’t think she’d be the type to hold a grudge.”

The other two frowned, unable to argue that point as the blonde glared at them too. Did she resent them for not helping in time? Or maybe not letting her leave the other day?

“It was for her own safety,” Kunikida rebutted with a huff, “If she wants to wallow in self-pity, then be my guest.”

Atsushi winced at his callous tone, adding more meekly, “I think she just needs some time to understand we’re trying to protect her. I mean, especially now with this case…” he trailed off, glancing at the file in his hands, “Tourists going missing… Violet-san would be the perfect target if we let her go on her own. You don’t think she’s a potential victim, do you?” his voice suddenly tensed from the conclusion he drew.

“Not likely. Even something like that seems a bit too convenient,” Dazai shot down calmly, shifting to face the teen in the backseat as Kunikida at last drove away from the Agency, “While Yosano-sensei’s findings were helpful, we still don’t have enough information to prove much of anything at this point.”

Turning back, he sighed, “We’ll just have to wait for those tests to come back or pray that Violet-chan isn’t trying to beat a world record in holding a grudge.”

 

…

 

A sneeze erupted from my mouth, sounding like a muffled squeak in my blanket fortress. What was it? Did some stray fleck of dust come in? Or… Was the saying true and someone was talking about me? Those jerks. They better not be spreading some ludicrous rumor.

Ever since that morning, I’d kept a good distance between myself and the Agency members. Not that what happened scarred me, just that I didn’t want to deal with them or any sketch plans they had up their sleeves – especially when Kunikida, Atsushi, and Dazai began talking across the room about me with Yosano. I didn’t need to be fluent to tell that much.

How annoying. All I wanted was to leave, but these people blocked me every time I so much as looked at the door. It was extremely vexing. So I decided if they were going to be petty about it, then I was going to be even pettier and bury myself in a pile of blankets and not come out until they either left or let me go outside. Simple. Not really mature. But hey, who said I was in the first place?

Nevertheless, hearing them talk like pedicure workers grated against my raw nerves. Would it kill them to go to the next room? Honestly. I didn’t understand most of what they said but it was plain enough who the topic was even without them dropping my name every now and again.

“Idiots…” I muttered under my breath, hugging close the pillow I threw and pleasingly hit Dazai’s face with.

“Violet?” Yosano spoke softly, kneeling down to peer through the opening of my cocoon shortly after the trio filed out.

Despite her kindness earlier, I held no motivation to leave her as an exception to my foul mood. I scowled and felt myself begin to bristle. I was fully aware of how cat-like I appeared but didn’t care as I glared at her. Anger has a strange way of twisting things around. Case in point how her gentle words sounded so much more mocking than before. Even if a part of me recognized this, I held onto my chains like they were old friends.

Still… I frowned. She did stay up all night for me. Ah dang. Here comes the guilt.

“What?” I forced out the words, still upset but at least not enough to give her the silent treatment like the others. She deserved a bit more than that for patching me up.

A small smile graced her features as she held out a small black object. Instantly my curiosity was perked to the point I nearly reached out to grab it only to freeze before my fingers left the warm darkness. What if this was another trick? Was she trying to get me out? Talk about paranoid. But it felt extremely possible to my abused mind and nerves.

Seeing this she stopped moving and said in a calm voice despite the obvious flare of annoyance in her eyes. Please. I never said I’d completely go easy on her. I know she must be having a rough day, but I think I had her beat there.

“It’s okay. See?” she pulled the object in half, revealing a screen and some numbered buttons. A phone. She was trying to give me a phone? Why? What good would that possibly do for a pretty much mute person like me? Did she forget that?

She set the phone on the ground right outside of my mound of blankets, saying something I think translated to, “If you need anything, call.”

Again. Gonna be a bit of a challenge seeing as my best form of communication was a collection of sloppily drawn figures. Guess she held more confidence in me learning than I did. That or this was some sort of test. Did she think I was faking it? Was that what they were talking about? Damn. If only. Then I could really give them a piece of my mind.

I frowned up at her, not taking the phone as she grabbed a bag and case, smiling down at me and saying she’d be back soon and not to move. Or at least that’s what I gathered. Huh. Guess she was not completely off in her conjecture. I suppose they always did say immersion in a language is the best and quickest way to learn it. Nothing like necessity huh?

At any rate, I didn’t bother to reach for the phone until she left and the silence grew almost as unbearable as the heat. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice. But the warm air made it feel a bit suffocating. I only endured this long cause of pure will to spite their attempts to mend wounds. That and to make it crystal clear to Dazai that despite our initial pow wow he wasn’t going to get off that easy – drugged or not.

The cool air was amazing. Odd considering how often we hiss at it in the morning. Maybe rude awakenings are to blame or the need to get out to pee or go to work. Who knows? For now I basked in how it felt like silk against my skin. Wonder if they use AC here or if it’s just the natural air. Whatever the case it beat humid Floridian air. Or so I thought. Kinda hard to tell when you’ve been grounded for the foreseeable future without having once stepped out into unhindered sunlight because of stubborn heroic jerks.

Of whom most of which, or at least the ones with the best chances of stopping me, were gone.

Holy crap. This was my chance. They actually left me alone. Did they think I’d actually stay put? Please. I wanted out. Even if it didn’t let me find out when this was, I needed a change of scenery. Heck, just going downstairs to the café would be good enough at this point.

Still… I glanced at the phone. It felt wrong. Dang morals and feelings. Always had to get in the way. Guess that’s why Port Mafia threw them aside. Nevertheless, as much as I pestered them now, I really didn’t want to hurt them or make them worry unnecessarily. Ugh. What a bother…

Snatching up the phone, I shoved it in my back pocket and got up. Sitting in that corner for so long made my legs a bit unstable, but they quickly adjusted. I credit excitement for that. Not to mention I’d force them to move forward regardless. No way was I giving up on such an amazing chan-

“Oh, Violet-chan, hello! Are you feeling better?”

Whoa. I stopped short just in time to avoid walking into the resident sunshine of the Agency. Kenji. Great. So much for escaping. They set the freaking Sunflower Hulk as my guard dog. I wouldn’t be able to get so much as two feet if I managed to overlook his contagious goodwill.

“Yes…” I mumbled. Now take me back to my prison cell…

He seemed to gain ten more levels of radiance as he spoke in that cheery voice, mentioning something about a game as he pulled a box out from one of the drawers. Setting it down on the table he pulled out a board and some pieces, looking to me in obvious question if I wanted to play. Honestly the thought of struggling through a game sounded horrible. But who can deny Kenji of all people? Heck, I couldn’t even remember to be spiteful against the kid. He’s that kind of ray of sunshine.

“Alright,” I sighed, frowning as I meekly asked one of the more complex words I knew, “W-What is i-it?”

Kenji blinked in just about as much surprise as I did that I actually said a simple sentence before absolutely beaming. He went off quickly, and if not for my deadpan expression probably would’ve continued. Baby steps I suppose. In the end, he was remarkably good at teaching me the rules and, after some trial and error, we managed to play rather smoothly. It was sort of like Mau. Insanely annoying until you finally understand the basics. Sure, I couldn’t read the cards, but after a while I recognized the symbols enough to know what they meant. It was sort of like a cross between Sorry and Monopoly. Very odd but quite addicting.

And just like that Kenji and I spent the rest of the day playing that game. Hope he didn’t have anything to do. Although I think I remember Fukuzawa popping out and murmuring something to one of the office workers. Probably something along the lines of letting us simply enjoy the game. Guess he didn’t realize we’d be playing til well beyond sunset.

By the time we finished our fourth round, both of us were beat and, thanks to Haruno, filled with delicious rice balls and, what were they called again…ah! Anpan. It was amazing and more than enough to prompt the blonde kid into passing out on the couch across from me. From the way my hazy mind swayed in between reality and lulling darkness, I was not far behind. Yet just as I began to doze off, the door opened.

Urgent voices sounded close by, signaling nothing good. What happened? Was someone hurt?

Pushing up, I peeked around the screen’s corner to find four figures in the darkness. By the voice, one was obviously Kunikida – man seemingly beside himself for some reason. Why? Did Dazai mess with him again? Yet it felt too stressed for that. Which meant nothing good, especially as he made no move to strangle the bandaged man who spoke in a calm, almost quiet voice to offset his partner’s rising panic. Beside him was undoubtedly Atsushi from the way he shifted uneasily. Talk about quick learning. If only communicating was that simple.

As they continued speaking in hushed tones, curiosity steadily got the better of me until I walked out. Apparently I really did have light feet as they jumped, Atsushi practically to the roof, when I asked, “Are you okay?”

“V-Violet-san?” Atsushi stammered, likely surprised to see me out of my den of blankets and actually speaking to them. Please. Give me some credit. I’m not going to hold a grudge forever – especially when they’re obviously not okay.

They exchanged a glance that clearly said they knew something – something I held a bad feeling involved me. What? What could they possibly be thinking-?

“Dazai-san? Is everything alright?” a new voice, soft and meek, inquired.

I blinked, not recognizing it at all. Who was…?

A young woman only a few years older than me shifted from where Dazai’s form blocked her – the man’s tan coat, one I failed to realize he didn’t wear, draped over her shoulders. She had long jet black hair and gentle teal eyes that glowed uncannily blue in the moonlight. I didn’t know her name, but I knew exactly who she was.

And it spelt nothing good.

She was the teacher girlfriend of the Azure King. The one who almost succeeded in framing the Agency. The supposed victim-turn-criminal.

The Azure Messenger.

Or at least the Azure Messenger of the anime timeline. Guess that clears up a few questions as to when this was. Unfortunately it also meant things were about to get real, real fast.

And, ready or not, I was about to be thrown into serious storyline.

Hopefully I’d learned enough to survive. Guess we were about to find out.

Notes:

And now the story slowly moves forward.

Chapter 6: Silent Witness

Summary:

Sometimes the loudest messages do not utter a sound.

Anomaly.

If he had to pick a single word to describe Dazai, Kunikida would unquestionably say he was an anomaly. Everything about the man who somehow became his partner screamed an ulterior motive. But just when he thought he’d figure the guy out, he’d pull out something more confounding.

Indeed, Dazai Osamu was an anomaly wrapped in an enigma.

Although at the moment it felt more like blasphemy ensnared audacity.

After all, sleeping with the victim they rescued only hours earlier from a traumatic event – likely taking advantage of her jumbled emotions? Even that was low for Dazai’s quirks. Enough to prompt suspicious glares from the blonde and Atsushi as they stared at the bandaged man who sat beside Sasaki in the infirmary.

Taking a breath to push away his bold words, Kunikida cleared his throat and addressed the woman, “A-At any rate. I am glad to see you are alright.”

“Yes,” she smiled softly, expression wavering as she glanced leftwards, “Although I must ask… Is she okay?”

Without needing to look, the trio felt the fierce glare searing into their forms from the mound of blankets in the corner. Atsushi shuddered, venturing a tentative look only for the pile to shift and hide Violet’s face. She was really upset; far more than yesterday. But he still couldn’t figure out why. Only that now she was much less willing to even look at them – Dazai especially as she rejected the bandaged man completely.  Did something happen between the two yesterday?

Feeling their silent question, the bandaged man sighed dramatically, “No. I can assure you whatever happened yesterday, I played no part. I am just as in the dark as you are as to why Violet-chan is acting this way. Although,” he tilted his head in sudden epiphany, “Perhaps she’s jealous of Sasaki-san? Is that it, Violet-chan?” he called over, “Did you want to stay at my place too?”

She gave no response, Kunikida growling out in her place, “Quit making things worse. She’s probably still upset from yesterday – and with good reason as you haven’t even properly apologized yet, bastard.”

“What do you mean?” Dazai defended, “I apologized numerous times yesterday.”

“Yes, but apparently not enough for her,” the blonde rebutted firmly.

“Sorry, but what exactly happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sasaki inquired with a small frown. They exchanged glances before giving a brief summary of the strange girl who suddenly appeared in their office and an even briefer account of the previous morning’s embarrassment. The lecturer paused, taking in the information before replying, “I see. If what you think is true about her past, then it makes sense that she rejects Dazai-san now – even if it was an accident.”

“Eh?” Dazai gasped while Atsushi tilted his head, “How’s that?”

“Well, you see, when people survive a traumatic event they often develop defense mechanisms – sometimes to protect themselves from future harm, other times to prevent memories from springing up. Most do so subconsciously, but by the way Violet-san is acting,” she glanced where the named was hidden under most of the blankets in the infirmary, “I’d say she’s aware of what she is doing.”

“Wow… How do you know all of this?” Atsushi asked in awed surprise.

“I lectured a bit about post-traumatic stress disorders and trauma victims a month ago in Nagashima,” she replied meekly.

“That’s right, you did say you’re a psychology lecturer,” Kunikida recalled, interest perking only to diminish some as the implications rose around him, “I’m sorry, we should be the one’s helping you get back on your feet, not asking for your help for a different case.”

“Don’t worry. It’s actually a bit refreshing,” she reassured, adding with a frown, “Besides, I don’t think that our cases are so far apart, actually.”

“What makes you say that?” Dazai asked in a borderline emotionless voice.

Perhaps sensing their tension, she shrunk a little but answered nonetheless, “Well, you said that she suddenly appeared in your office in her underwear. If I recall correctly all the victims were stripped when they were captured. Maybe Violet-san was caught but managed to escape.”

They stiffened at her conjecture – something echoed by the faintest thoughts in the back of their minds. Thoughts planted after last night’s tragedy yet left unspoken in its wake.

“Sometimes trauma causes victims to develop amnesia and an inability to express their thoughts and feelings. Nonetheless, something must’ve driven her to the Agency. Maybe she thought you could help?” Sasaki questioned mainly to herself, finishing with a small sigh, “It’s a bit of a farfetched theory, I understand, but it is a possibility.”

Was that what happened to her? Was Violet another victim? How did she escape? How did she know to come to the Agency? And, most importantly, did she know the identity of the suspect?

All eyes drifted to the opening that reappeared in the blankets, revealing her olive eyes narrowed at them. They only had seconds to stare back as she pulled them snuggly back in the next moment, blocking out their frowns.

Was their mysterious amnesiac actually a silent witness?

 

…

 

This sucked. More so than before. What the heck was happening? Just when I thought things were getting better they got ten times worse. Azure Messenger? Come on. Of all the times to drop in, why’d it have to be now?

“Idiots…” I grumbled, somewhat hoping they’d hear. Honestly. How did they miss that Sasaki was the Azure Messenger? I suppose in the original story it was Dazai, but still. The moment she appeared in the anime I knew it was her. Heck, it was the only epiphany my dumb mind could reach. So why were they so blind to it?

It was frustrating as hell. More so that I didn’t know if I should out her. Considering they’d even understand me. Ugh! Where’s a translation book when you need it? Or, heck, Chuuya? I’m certain English was somewhere in the book of languages he spoke fluently. Oh, that’s right, he was off somewhere on a mission – not to return for another couple of days. Awesome. Just my luck.

Even then… Should I out her? Time was a funny thing, and if the butterfly effect taught me anything it was that even the smallest things could prove disastrous later on. What if my speaking killed someone important? I suppose it could also simply end this faster, but still. Was I willing to take such a risk?

I sighed. Of course not. As fun as it’d be to actively play a role instead of hiding out here like dead weight, I couldn’t justify doing something so reckless when they would make it out unharmed. Well, for the most part that is. All in all, they needed those scars for what lurked ahead. Who knows? Maybe they were the very things that let them survive when much more powerful demons threatened their lives.

Damn. Talk about disheartening. Not to mention completely counter effective against me ignoring them out of spite. Guess I had to revise a few things there. No way was I letting them off so easily.

Shame the only one in the room had to be Ms. Blue Killer herself.

Great. Just freaking great. The last person I wanted to see let alone share a room with. Where was Yosano? Out again? Fantastic. Not that I was scared. More like concerned for her health should she so much as hint about hurting the others and Agency. Please. Me scared of her? As if. I was confident of my ability to sweep the floor with her or, at the very least, out run her.

Unfortunately I couldn’t just start fighting her. That’d be bad no matter what the situation. Sadly, though, running wasn’t an option either as her cot was between me and the doorway. Of all the luck… Why’d it have to be her?

“Hello, Violet-san,” she smiled nicely, like the perfect law-abiding citizen we both knew she wasn’t.

I frowned and let the silence drag out uncomfortably. Hell no. I refused to engage in conversation with her. She killed Rokuzou – the kid whose name came back with striking clarity along with everything else in the two episodes detailing the case. Not to mention tried to frame the Agency and nearly killed Kunikida, Atsushi, and Dazai by setting her ex-lookalike on them. She was traitorous and certainly not to be trusted.

If she thought I’d actually play nice with her, she was an idiot.

One with quite the persistency as she began speaking in that calm voice only shrinks could accomplish. It was oddly soothing and uncomfortable. Like she was giving a backhanded compliment. Maybe that was just foreknowledge making the waters murky. Or, hey, the fact she was the mastermind without a single care of the victims she harmed.

Everything was building too fast, yet unlike before instead of panic all I felt was anger that finally snapped as I growled, “Enough!”

She flinched, surprised I could actually speak. Damn woman. Why couldn’t she take the hint and leave? I got here first, so no way was I budging. Or rather, no. Let her stay. She obviously needed Yosano’s treatment more than I did.

“Bad,” I continued angrily, hoping my glare was sufficient enough to express my sheer distrust in her, “You are bad!”

“E-Eh?” she stammered, attempting a weak smile, “Why do you think that, Violet-chan?”

I bristled, nerves on edge from my fraying control in keeping them from lunging at her as I seethed before I could stop myself, “You are blue.”

In that instant, her smile wavered – sending a cold burst of reality in my veins. Oh crap. Did I mess up? Did I just reveal I knew it was her? Wait… Why do I even care?

I frowned at her. That’s right. Out of all the villains in this series, she was one of the few I held confidence in taking down. Especially since I knew exactly what she’d do. With that knowledge, she could do nothing against me – leaving her only option a physical fight I knew I’d be victorious in. Sure, she might pull out a weird trump, but I’d like to see her get that far.

No. Whatever butterfly effect I set in motion, I wasn’t afraid of her. I might not be able to oust her in front of the others right now, but she was in for a hell of a ride if she thought I’d play passive, quiet witness. Please. I was just getting started, and my vocabulary expanding by the day.

By the end of this, I made it my goal to learn how to say, “She is the Azure Messenger.”

 

 

Extra: Kanikeki

Paper crinkled under the pressure, electrifying the air and giving form to otherwise untouchable emotions. It was a nice medium often overlooked but priceless in siphoning off some of the tension pulling my muscles taut – invigorating my heartbeat with each step closer to the familiar red-brick building.

Why was I so anxious? Nothing sinister was going to happen. The Guild was defeated days ago. We were safe. Well, for the time being. At any rate, we were now. So what’s with the tension?

One word: Insecurity.

What if it was taken the wrong way? What if I messed up? Did he even want this? Did anyone else know about today? What if it made things worse? What if? What if?

Ugh. This was horrible. Maybe I should just throw the bag at him and bolt. But what if he took that the wrong way? Geez. This was worse than stuttering crushes confessing to each other.

To be fair, most things involving Dazai Osamu involved a good helping of uncertainty and unease.

But today was different. Today I couldn’t allow such insecurities to hold me back. Not now. Not today. Just breathe and go through with it. No matter what, at least I had to try. He deserved that much.

Hopefully this wouldn’t push him over the edge…

No! No negative thinking. Only positive thoughts. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts…

I opened the door to the Agency, greeting the occupants softly, “Good morning.”

Gazes drifted my way, hectic office environment pausing briefly as numerous responses chimed back, concluding with Kyouka and Atsushi who smiled softly, “Good morning, Violet-san. How are you?”

“Good…” I trailed off, more interested in combing through the sea of faces for one in particular. Ironic given how outlandish he typically was. Which begs the question: where was he? Could he be out on mission?

“Violet-san?” I blinked, pulled back to where Atsushi and Kyouka gave somewhat concerned looks. Oh, right, in the middle of a conversation. Crap. So much for social etiquette.

Guess I better get to the point.

“Where is Dazai?” I asked, feeling my cheeks warm up. Geez. I was hopeless.

“Dazai-san?” the white-haired teen blinked, exchanging a look with his roommate that was all the answer I needed, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him…”

So casual. Did no one in the Agency know about today? Did that mean he kept it secret? Or was there some silent agreement in keeping it a low profile? Anything was possible – more so when it concerned Dazai.

“Dazai is not here,” Kunikida called over, not bothering to squander the effort to look our way, “President gave him the day off.”

Day off? Did Fukuzawa know then? Either way, it was both soothing and concerning to learn he wasn’t here. On one hand, I could struggle to collect myself a little more. Yet on the other hand… Where was he? Was he alright? Was he home alone on a day like this? How horrible… I gathered he needed his alone time, but on a day like this…

“Okay. Thank you,” I turned without missing a beat. Probably not the best given how it left things, but the fact that they didn’t follow showed after everything they at least trusted me enough to wander about on my own without supervision.

It was likely for the best as the places I investigated were probably locations Dazai would prefer to keep secret. Crap. Did that mean that he would be upset if I showed up? Geez. Why was everything so complicated with the guy?

At least I had plenty of time to mull things over. My flimsy knowledge of Yokohama’s layout was thankfully enough to begin the quest to find Dazai – bringing me to usual hideouts and his apartment and the like. It was a nice trip down memory lane. They all were different places, but the lingering light of his laughter and shenanigans gave them a certain glow. It was refreshing and pleasant.

Something I didn’t realize I needed as Dazai’s continued disappearance furthered my wanderings to more somber locations.

Places like bridges and graveyards and bluer areas of the city. It hurt. Not just because of the links some places had with him and, namely, Odasaku, but the fact that he very well could be there. On a day like this… That’s why I needed to find him. On a day like this, he shouldn’t be alone. Especially in places like this.

Another bittersweet relief came as he still remained missing. At least he wasn’t lingering in those parts, but still… Would I ever find him in time? My feet ached and the sun was beginning to dip in the sky. Before long today would be over. Was it pointless to try and find him? He was a master at hiding. Heck, the guy evaded Port Mafia for more than two years. If he really wanted to remain hidden, how was someone like me possibly supposed to find him?

I may know a little about the future, but I was no seer.

Ahh… This sucked…

I plopped down on a bench. What was I going to do? I already looked over every last place I knew the guy would go to. Well, most of them. Some places, like Port Mafia, were obvious nos. So where was he?

Ahh… This was pointless… All of it was a mistake. He probably didn’t want anyone to know anyways… Still…

Stinging pricked the corners of my eyes. Eh? Why was I crying? This wasn’t supposed to be about me. It was about Dazai. He’s the one who was important. The one I couldn’t find. The one who didn’t want to be found.

The one probably sitting alone on a day like today…

I shook my head. No. No drowning in sorrow. I… I could at least drop off this at his door. Yeah, that’d suffice. At least he’d hopefully see that someone was thinking about him. That he wasn’t alone. Although, was it enough? They were probably cold and ruined by all my walking at this rate… Ahh. Where’s the do-over button when you need it?

Whatever. Guess I better get going. I did have to go to the Agency tomorrow to get checked up on by Yosano and help Kenji. Best to do so with more than two hours of sleep. Ha. Yeah. Like I’d actually manage that much at this rate…

City life glowed around, gaining radiance with each passing moment. I’d love to bask in it, but the cloud over my head was blocking everything out. All I could think of was Dazai sitting alone in the dark. Please. He’s probably goofing off with a stranger or drinking or something… Yeah. He was alright.

He was alright…

“Dazai…” I murmured before I could stop myself, gazing out over the bridge to the waters reflecting halcyon streetlights on the sparsely populated path.

“Yes, Violet-chan?”

My heart leapt to my throat. How-?! My mind was a jumbled mess that suddenly was tossed into a blender as I spun around. Apparently it was more than just my mind and heart, as in a horridly ironic and totally my luck move, my legs ensnared each other and sent me tumbling back.

Right over the edge of the bridge.

Everything happened so fast. One second the world was blurring around me – focusing on Dazai’s smile that slowed time as it straightened in surprise as he darted forward and reached out for me. The next my face met a firm chest seconds before black waters engulfed everything.

It took only seconds for disorientation to transform into panic as survival instincts screamed water wasn’t breathable. Following the lessons ingrained into my very being, I beat my legs and stopped the descent. Okay, now to figure out which way was-

My mind froze upon Dazai’s face that floated inches away, his hand wrapped around my wrist as testimony to his successful, yet ultimately futile, reach. Even in the dim light further obscured by the waters and current slowly pulling us out to sea, his wide red-brown eyes and star struck expression were clear to see. A halo of amber light outlined his hair that flowed dreamlike in the waters.

Further clarifying the fact that, in a weird jumbled mess of events, we just fell off a bridge together.

Out of impulse I went to gasp, only for the cold waters to blatantly stop that motion and nearly drown me then and there. Pain convulsed my body as some managed to get down my throat. Crap. Maybe his wish was finally going to come to pass after all. Sure, I wanted to chase away any sorrow from him on this day, but not like this.

My eyes scrunched close as the pressure increased exponentially. My head felt like it was going to implode. Crap. Crap. Crap…. Of all ways to mess up…

Or so I thought as suddenly the water gave way to cool air. I didn’t have time to think how it happened as my lungs immediately rejected the droplets that managed to sneak into them. Vaguely I registered two arms holding me close and a pair of legs keeping us afloat – occasionally brushing against mine. Dazai must’ve taken control. Ahh… So much for easing his burden…

He toted us to the shore, giving a few small coughs as we both simply lay on the grass for a few minutes if only to catch our breath. Geez. What a mess… I shouldn’t be surprised, but still…

I opened my eyes to find him only a couple of inches away, his breathing a stressed calm that smoothed his dripping features gazing back at me. Oh gosh. My cheeks quickly burned away the chill gathering from my wet clothes. He was so close. And we just nearly fulfilled his insane suicide wish that he himself put an end to and what was happening, why was he here, and oh gosh…

His chuckle cut through my embarrassment as he pulled us up and said something along the lines of, “You know, if you wanted to fall off a bridge with me so badly, all you had to do was ask.”

Geez. I wanted to disappear. So much for finding Dazai. Right now all I wanted was to run away from him…

“Ah, I found this floating by you. Is it yours Violet-chan?” I blinked, finding a brown paper bag pull up between us.

Ahhh… Now this really sucks. The bag was sopping wet. Meaning all that effort was ruined….

My head hung in shame that forbid me from looking him in the eye as I nodded, “Yes… It is for you…” More like was. Ahhh. What a disaster…

Dazai blinked, “For me?”

I forced myself to look at him, feeling horrible for giving him the ruined bag and its probably horrid contents, “Yes.”

He tilted his head in curiosity before opening it and peering inside. Oh gosh. What must they even look like after all that? Probably mush… Indeed, he pulled out a brown glob. Gosh I couldn’t even look. He was going to hate it. And it was my best batch too… Ahhh… Can I just disappear now?

A hum of interest cut through my mortification, drawing my attention to where Dazai chewed thoughtfully. He…actually ate them? Gosh. What did they even taste like after getting dunked in some stream?

“Crab cakes?” he mulled after swallowing, eyeing me with something not unlike surprise.

Geez. What must he be thinking? Was he doing this to be nice? Who knew. At the very least it was a mercy I couldn’t turn down as I meekly nodded and uttered with still burning cheeks.

“H-Happy Birthday, Dazai.”

He flinched. Oh gosh. I knew this was a bad idea. He didn’t want anyone to know. Oh gosh. What if it brought up bad memories from him? What if that’s why he wanted to be alone? What if that’s why Fukuzawa let him have the day off? Oh gosh. Oh gosh…

Before I could dive back into the waters, a pure smile accompanied by a hand guiding me into a gentle hug froze time around me. Soft lips brushed against my forehead, tenderly followed by Dazai’s voice, “Thank you, Violet-chan.”

What? My mind froze. What? What just happened? He wasn’t angry? Or upset that I knew it was his birthday?

Seemingly not as he chomped down the other soggy crab cake with glee, completely freezing my mind to the point where I numbly let him pull us to our feet – a cheesy grin plastered on his face as he said, “Let’s go, Violet-chan! The night is still young, and I’ve got the perfect place to show you!”

His smile and laughter lining his voice was contagious beyond reason, and I found myself easily drowning in that light. I didn’t know if it was genuine or a mask for my sake, but if it was what he wanted…

“Okay!” I smiled, squeezing his hand back and following him into the dazzling city lights that somehow shone more captivating than the age-old stars above.

Notes:

Hope you all enjoyed the impromptu extra

Happy Birthday Dazai-sensei~

Chapter 7: Blue Herring

Summary:

Assumptions are a double edged sword whose only purpose is to bring harm to both sides.

The Azure King…was alive?

It sounded completely insane. No one survives being blown up. It’s impossible. Well, at least for the average human. As for one endowed with special abilities…

Impossible is simply a day’s walk in the park, right?

Still, for the Azure King to be an ability user. It felt…wrong. Too many questions rose. Like why didn’t he use his ability earlier? Why did he lure those men into a death trap? How come no one held record of it? Hiding an ability for a while was one thing, but from the government? Not likely. Unless…

Did the explosion trigger some latent gene in him – transforming him into an ability user?

So many questions…

Who was the Azure King?

Dazai refocused on the woman in front of him, her soft words a bit further than normal – not far enough to miss, but not intruding on his thoughts. Sasaki knew a lot about the figure. Probably thanks to the overwhelming media attention the case received in addition to her profession. Perhaps she was called to analyze the man. Maybe that was why she accepted his request for help so easily.

As Sasaki went through the case in the view of the media, he checked her facts. Everything added up and fit – proving she was smart enough to filter out the extremities and rumors. Still, it hardly gave credit to her conjecture that the terrorist was still alive. Ability user or not, death was impossible to return from.

Not even Yosano’s formidable ability could argue that truth when the incident occurred years ago.

Nevertheless, the lecturer’s conjecture wasn’t entirely without reason. Her thoughts on motives revolving around revenge toward Kunikida for outing him last time made sense. And yet… Dazai frowned. Why did it feel off? Why would a man so focused on his ideals suddenly stray and go against them? Sure, it would be one thing to target him, but the blonde agent? Certainly he never did anything contrary to the law.

Unless this was more than a simple revenge. Could it be that the Azure King, if he still roamed this Earth, saw his reflection in Kunikida? Was he angered by the choices he made? Was this some sort of psychological imprinting? It felt a bit better than simple revenge. Unfortunately there were still too many variables to tell.

“Did you know?” Dazai jumped back into their conversation smoothly, answering the question he dwelt on seconds prior, “The one to back the Azure King into a corner was none other than our very own Kunikida-kun. He located his hideout – essentially pulling the trigger itself.” He paused, noting the small build of tension in the blonde’s shoulders at the sensitive topic as he continued levelly, “Maybe this isn’t about revenge on the Agency, but Kunikida-kun.”

Likely not. But it didn’t hurt to have other minds search new angles of the theory.

“No,” Kunikida shot down firmly, “The Azure King is long gone. The military’s forensic team confirmed his death without a doubt.”

Steadfast as ever, huh? “Just in case, you should keep an eye out,” Dazai warned, “Until we figure out the identity of the Azure Messenger, that is.”

He looked back at Sasaki, ready to continue the amusing jab from earlier when something in her expression made him pause. What was it? He narrowed his eyes a fraction of an inch and inquired, “Sasaki-san? Are you alright? Do you feel faint?”

Kunikida and Atsushi tensed behind him, ready to aid the woman who blushed before stammering, “Ah, no! I’m fine. Everything is alright, just…” she trailed off, emotion spreading like poison in her teal eyes. What was it? It looked familiar. Almost like…

Fear?

“Sasaki-san, if there’s something troubling you please tell us,” Dazai urged carefully, “Like I said, we’re not simply protecting your life but your psychological well-being too.”

She smiled, taking his reassurance well. Even then, some hesitation remained in her tone. Why? Was what she was about to say controversial? Or… He frowned minutely. Did she leave something out earlier? Could she have possibly seen the Azure Messenger in the hideout?

“I-It’s about Violet-san, actually,” she at last confessed.

“Violet?” Kunikida echoed, Atsushi mirroring his surprise at the sudden veer in topic, “What is it? Did something happen to her?”

“N-No, not at all,” Sasaki quickly shot down, wringing her hands nervously and stopping to lower her head in thought.

Not wanting her to cut off, Dazai leaned forward and gently pushed, “It’s alright Sasaki-san. Nothing is going to happen – not to you or Violet-chan. Alright?”

“That’s just it…”

He frowned as she looked back up at them, “I-I don’t think Violet-san is a victim of these attacks.”

“What?” Atsushi frowned as Kunikida furthered, “I thought you said yesterday that she was. What changed your mind?”

“I-I think it was because I had some time to really think things over and reexamine what happened,” Sasaki explained timidly, “It came to me last night, actually.”

“What?” Dazai asked.

“Violet-san. I didn’t recognize her,” Sasaki answered a touch more firmly, “I know. I didn’t end up in that abandoned hospital until after she theoretically escaped, but if that was the case then certainly some of her clothes would’ve been left behind, right?”

The trio exchanged glances, Dazai speaking, “That’s true. But the perpetrators may have simply disposed of them after she fled. Destroy evidence – especially ones belonging to an amnesiac with characteristically low credibility – and the trail stops cold.”

“Yes, that’s what I tried to tell myself too,” Sasaki agreed with a touch of urgency granting more life to her voice, “I thought I was simply overthinking things on a weary mind. Violet-san is a victim like myself – our cases connected or not. Yet after that I began to think differently…”

“That?” Kunikida’s frown deepened.

Sasaki hesitated, reaching for strength in Dazai’s eyes before continuing quietly, “After you all left the other day, Violet came out of her…er, bed. I tried talking to her, but she gave me a cold shoulder. That didn’t really surprise or bother me as, like I said earlier, it is a common defense mechanism. However…” she trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself insecurely, “Violet-san said something that bothers me even now.”

She spoke? To Sasaki? Strange.

“What was it?” Atsushi asked just as surprised as Kunikida that the quiet blonde spoke – to a stranger nonetheless.

“It was jumbled, but I think she was trying to say I was bad,” Sasaki frowned in confusion, as if trying to piece together a complicated puzzle. Not surprising given the mysterious blonde. However, what she said next made them stiffen as Sasaki leveled an even gaze at them, “And another thing. She said the word blue.”

Blue. As in azure? Like the Azure King, or… It couldn’t be…

“Are you saying Violet-san knows who the Azure Messenger is?” Atsushi asked in disbelief.

Sasaki flinched, averting her eyes. It was all the indication needed for Dazai to answer in her place, “You think Violet-chan is the Azure Messenger.”

“What?” Atsushi gasped, Kunikida growling, “That helpless girl? Impossible. She-”

“Not quite,” Dazai sighed, defending the albeit shocking theory in a somewhat detached tone, “Think about it. How much do we know about Violet-chan? Not nearly enough. Sure, in a sense it proves her innocence, yet at the same time she is just as culpable.”

“But how? She doesn’t even know how to talk, let alone read and write,” Atsushi argued, not liking the direction of things, “Violet-chan barely even knows anything about herself.”

“How certain are you of that?” the teen flinched as Dazai rebutted his thoughts easily, “For all we know it is an act. A well-played one if that is the case.”

“But…” Atsushi trailed off uneasily.

“Even if she is truthful in her amnesia, that doesn’t make her innocent,” Dazai explained calmly, “She may have set everything up prior – using a system to send out messages at specific times remotely. It’s not entirely unthinkable, and given her knack in picking up speaking fairly quickly she’s certainly capable. As for her words to Sasaki-san... Perhaps she was upset of her survival. Or maybe she wanted to spread ill will against her. Based on that,” Dazai concluded grimly, “Sasaki-san’s theory isn’t completely groundless.”

A tense silence fell on them. Were they harboring a criminal? One who now threatened all of Yokohama? One who killed innocent people?

Could someone who cried so bitterly in his arms actually be a cold hearted criminal?

He of all people knew how to manipulate people through masks. And yet it felt weird. Was Violet really the Azure Messenger?

“Whatever the case, we should keep a close eye on her from here on,” Kunikida finished, “Messenger or not, we cannot let Violet wander off by herself for the time being.”

“Right…” Atsushi agreed, the words falling from his lips as if he was about to eat something foul.

Taking the silent signal, the teen rose and, after saying goodbye to Sasaki, followed his superiors upstairs. First the death of the victims, then the bomb threat, now Violet potentially being the Azure Messenger? What was happening? Everything was moving too fast.

“Breathe, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai instructed, allowing the teen to finally realize the breath he held. Letting go he looked to the man’s smiling face, “Better?”

“I guess…” he smiled weakly.

“Good. We need all our heads straight to get through this particularly tangled mission,” Kunikida replied calmly.

Turning, he entered the office, not missing a beat in heading toward the infirmary and opening the door. However, the moment they crossed the threshold they stopped cold. The infirmary… It was…

“Empty…” Atsushi trailed off in shock, followed by Kunikida growling at the abandoned heap of blankets in the corner, “She’s gone…”

Dazai frowned. Violet disappearing now of all times? Did she predict this? How? What did he miss?

“Ah…” they jumped as a bright voice greeted them, revealing Kenji who smiled sunnily, “If you’re looking for Violet-chan, she left a while ago.”

“What?! Where? Why?!” Kunikida snapped angrily.

Kenji merely tilted his head, “Why? Well because I promised her that if she won our game then I’d ask Yosano-sensei to take her outside for an hour.”

The trio tensed, glancing at one another. Could this be some plot of Violet’s or mere happenstance?

Kunikida scowled, pulling out his phone and dialing without a word.

 

…

 

What a perfect day. Don’t you just love it when days turn out perfect? They’re the best. Perfectly perfect.

Even if it was only for a limited amount of time.

Still, a rope was a rope and I wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Fresh air blew through the small park, caressing my skin and ruffling the hooded jacket Yosano forced upon me before leading me outside. Outside. Who’d have thought? Not me. I thought for sure she was about to drag me to some secret underground lair. Forget grounded in the infirmary. That was much worse. As bad as it was, at least the place had a window to look out of.

Fortunately, it turned out way better than my fears. So much better. I actually managed to go outside. Out-freaking-side. About time.

I was on cloud-nine – a freaking kid in a candy store. Not even Yosano’s vague words that hinted at a time restraint dulled it. It was weird she suddenly got the urge to let me out, but I didn’t question it. Like they say, don’t question the miracle, just enjoy it. Or something like that. Either way, it was amazing.

Yosano’s laughter sounded from my right. She probably found my childish wonder amusing. Can’t blame her, but the urge was too strong to pass up. If this was going to be my only time out for the next few months I was going to enjoy every last second of it. Screw cynicism. I was taking one from Kenji’s book and it was paying off amazingly. I could practically feel the stress leave my body.

All worries about returning, about the fate of these characters, about the Azure Messenger and that woman – they all faded away in the crystal clear water spilling out of the simple yet beautiful fountain. This park was probably some casual meeting place for locals, but it was like Disney for me. Sort of. Theme parks and the like tend to get old if you live by them for too long, not to mention work in them. Sure, they have their perks but getting yelled at for stupid reasons is hardly appealing.

But that was a sour note I refused to let bog my happiness. No. I could grumble about it later. As of now there was a flock of super cute birds I had to feed with the seed Yosano bought when we arrived. The outside world was freaking amazing. No wonder Kyouka loved everything so much on her date with Atsushi. Maybe I should try and get Yosano to buy some real street food. Oh that sounds amazing. Way better than the, albeit tasty, food brought into the office by the secretaries.

“Violet,” I smiled at her, completely caught up in the moment. Oddly enough her words were as clear as the cool water flowing through my fingers, “Are you having fun?”

“Yep!” I beamed, “Park. Amazing – beautiful. I love it!”

She smiled back with a chuckle, handing me more seed to feed the birds I’d been eyeing at. Before I could scamper off, however, a ringing cut between us. For some reason it made me frown. Maybe the whole nature versus city life thing? That or, more likely, it spelt no good. Did something happen at the Agency?

Noticing my frown, Yosano gave a reassuring smile and waved me away, saying, “It’s okay. Go on.”

Despite my previous excitement and the pull to jump on ahead, I lingered. Something felt wrong. What? I couldn’t tell, and the chirping of birds was all the motivation I needed to oblige. Talk about weak will. More like desperation as it was probably Kunikida. The killjoy must’ve found out Yosano snuck me out. Just great, now I’d never be able to leave the office let alone infirmary. Guess I’d have to start thinking about making that mound of blankets my new home…

Tweeting quickly captured my attention, banishing those thoughts in seconds. Geez. I was really starting to lose it now. Next thing you know I’ll be one of those dogs from Up who turns instantly at the mere mention of outside. Not exactly the most flattering image. Still, these birds were freaking adorable. Especially the little chicks that tagged along with them. Oh… Why did they have to abandon their young if they were touched? I wanted to pick one up so bad…

“Hey, Yosano,” I turned, holding out the bag, “Look! Birds…”

Instincts are truly amazing things. They’re the silent voice everyone has from birth. Sure, not everyone listens to them, but they remain our silent guides in life – warning of danger or good things to come. They were amazing and essential for survival, especially in a danger prone city or, heck, world like this.

And unfortunately for me, mine were blaring as I met Yosano’s frown.

Uh oh. That definitely didn’t spell anything good. Come on. I know he was a killjoy, but seriously? What sort of punishment was Kunikida cooking up? I didn’t even know where she was taking me, so why the heck was he-?

Oh. Crap.

Did they realize that I was talking about Chuuya? Did Dazai out me? As horrifying as the thought was, it felt off. As spontaneous as he seemed, everything Dazai did held meaning, and outing me didn’t make sense. Not now at least when he held nothing to gain. But if they didn’t suspect me for colluding with the Mafia, then what? I’d only been around for a couple of days. What could they possibly believe I did? I barely knew a thing. Only that their mission now revolved around-

All breath left my lungs.

The Azure Messenger.

Impossible. No way. I shifted under Yosano’s piercing gaze, suddenly not so sure I wanted to be its target. She seemed tense, as if anticipating a bomb about to go off or some criminal to attack. A criminal I held a sinking feeling she suspected me to be.

Seriously? Why? Was I honestly that suspicious? I know holding a grudge is bad, but come on. This was a bit much if this was their form of retaliation. I mean- Yikes! I flinched as she spoke tersely. Awesome. Guess who’s never going to mess with the Agency again? Considering I don’t become a vegetable after Yosano kills me ten times.

Yet this felt a bit too extreme even for their manic sides. Why then? What did I do other than hiss at Dazai and that lady? Dazai deserved it. As for the woman, heck she was the real mastermind so they could thank me for it late-

Wait. Mastermind. That woman. She was the mastermind behind everything. Smart enough to plan and manipulate multiple groups without getting her hands dirty. Smart enough to play the Agency. Smart enough to fool Dazai and Kunikida, albeit temporarily.

Smart enough to see through a stupid threat and counter with a much more formidable one.

My blood turned to ice and I think I forgot how to breathe as my old friend Stress returned, scaring away the birds. Did they suspect I was the Azure Messenger? No way. How on Earth did they get that ludicrous idea?

Duh. I grimaced. That damnable lady must’ve filled their heads with nonsense. Nonsense I probably helped create. Awesome. Just peachy. Suddenly I’d become some red herring in this case – something they certainly did not need. And the sucky part was I couldn’t even defend myself. I was the perfect scapegoat. I didn’t know what ticked me off more: her perfect plan or the fact Yosano actually seemed to believe it.

I mean, come on. Aren’t they supposed to be detectives? Where’s Ranpo when you need him?

The sound of Yosano flipping shut her phone was like a gunshot to my frayed nerves. Apparently I must’ve jumped as the remaining birds instantly shot up, prompting a few distressed cries from the kids feeding them. If only my problems could be that minor. They were a few seconds ago. What I wouldn’t give to have them back.

“Violet,” Yosano called calmly, extending a hand, “Come on. Time is up. We have to go back.”

It was amazing how I understood her. Or rather terrifying. I think things may have turned out so much better if she said something more complex. Unfortunately, I heard every word loud and clear like a death sentence. The tension in my body was so strong you could practically bottle it, and when she reached forward, I flinched away.

I didn’t notice until that point that I was shaking. I could already see her strapping me to a table and cutting off my limbs so I couldn’t escape. Oh gosh. My stomach turned and for a second I thought I was going to puke.

“Violet?” she spoke in mild confusion. Confusion. Like she honestly has to ask. I suppose she didn’t but I answered anyways.

“S-Scared,” I stammered timidly, shifting away from her and wincing as it made her frown deepen.

“Why?” she said almost upset. Oh gosh, she was about to skin me alive, I knew it. I should’ve never poked the bear. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and stayed in my cocoon. But noooo this kid had to have a temper tantrum that resulted in me becoming some damn scapegoat. Just perfect. Freaking perfect.

“Scared,” I repeated, this time barely above a whisper as anything else would have me screaming since my nerves were practically on fire. Against everything yelling in my mind to not do it, I raised a trembling hand and pointed at her, “You. And…blue.”

Have you ever slammed your toe into a rock? Do you remember that split second between hitting the rock and the pain registering in your mind? It takes all of seconds for nerves to relay that message. In the meantime you’re blissfully unaware, only for everything to come crashing down as the pain arrives. Yeah, that was me the moment that word left my lips. Only I feared the pain that awaited was far worse than a stubbed toe.

Yosano stiffened; her hand shooting behind her back instantly. She probably had a logical reason for it, but to my mind it was a freaking bomb siren. All in all, it was more than enough to burn away the rest of the fuse keeping me there. I was about to die. Fight or flight was happening now, and nothing changed from the last time.

Not hesitating a moment, I turned and bolted. My nerves were so far gone that when I felt her fingers brush against my hair I instinctively whimpered and covered my head as if we were suddenly under fire. Shocked looks blurred as I scrunched my eyes shut and focused on getting as far away from her as possible. I knew she wasn’t going to really hurt me without solid evidence, but at that point I’d believe it if someone told me Atsushi’s hair was purple.

“Violet! Wait!” Yosano yelled, sounding fairly far behind.

I didn’t dare look back. All that time on the track field taught me that in a race looking back only hinders you. And, to be honest, I really didn’t want to see what she looked like. Hell no. I wanted out. This time my life very much was on the line. Sadly because of my spontaneous actions. Running while under suspicion? I was practically raising a blue flag saying I was guilty.

The one silver lining in all of this was that despite her ability, Yosano was not as fit as I thought her to be, that or I underestimated just how fit I was. Within moments her shouts grew distant enough that I had to strain to hear them. She might’ve gotten caught by a light. We did somehow end up back on the street. Where? I had no idea and that only made my stomach churn more.

At this rate I was going to get lost. While I held fairly good knowledge of events, the layout of Yokohama was sadly left out for the most part in the series.

Yet what could I do? I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. What was I going to do? Keep going in hopes I’d miraculously find my way around? Yeah, probably not. Magic translator never showed, so I doubted sense of direction would either. But that left an even worse thought: stop and turn back so Yosano and the others could arrest me for something I didn’t do?

Arrest of an innocent. Oh gosh, it’s all making perfect sense. That lady wanted to frame the Agency. What better way to do that then to have them arrest the wrong person? Oh gosh. I didn’t know if that made me furious or nauseous.

Either way, it looked like my choice was made. I couldn’t let her plan succeed. As terrifying as getting lost in this city was, I’d rather face that then let her win. Kind of petty, I know, but give me some credit. Everyone knew I always put others before myself. It was practically instinct for me. And characters or not, they were no exception.

Veering into an alleyway, I ran until coming to another patch of trees. This park, unlike the other, was far less crowded. Indeed, it looked almost abandoned. I guess the area was a bit more sketch. Hopefully I didn’t just jump out of the pan and into the fire. Either way, my adrenaline was more than enough to handle them, or so I hoped as I skidded to a stop and climbed the closest tree. I didn’t stop until the branches began giving way to my weight. When I did I finally breathed heavily and returned the hood to my head.

I was safe. For now at least.

Hell, what was I saying? I was screwed. My one and only refuge now became a death trap in a city filled to the brim with liars, thieves, and killers – one of which being a master of all three and apparently after my head with the Agency as the unknowing executioner. It would’ve been poetic if I wasn’t seconds away from puking. This was terrible. And on a day that had so much potential…

How can such a perfect day possibly end up like this?

Notes:

Lost in Yokohama? Things don't look very promising for the young flower

Chapter 8: Failure to Communicate

There’s a reason why you don’t run in heels. For one, it’s stupid – you’re gonna break a heel and face plant. Two: their design is mainly for show not practicality unless you’re fortunate enough to wear wedges. Then an argument can be made. And finally: the material that they are made with – that sleek, nice stuff that works great for an hour or two of standing and walking but starts to tear your skin off after that.

And while my flats weren’t exactly heels, they certainly fell into that last category.

My feet killed. Between sprinting who knows how far, climbing a tree, and now wandering around Yokohama aimlessly after spending who knows how long on bedrest… It was a disaster waiting to happen. To make matters worse, I had probably ten blisters on each foot that were seconds from bleeding.

I had to stop soon, but if I did I’d get caught. Yosano’s choice of a hood helped, yet she also knew exactly what it looked like. It was infuriating and made me loathe paradoxes and irony. It’s all fun and games until you’re the one in the pit, or however the saying goes.

To top it all off, I was starving. Yosano only gave me an apple on the way and breakfast felt like days ago after all that running and panic. If she or the rest of the Agency didn’t find me, then I’d probably die of hunger at this rate. Okay, a little dramatic, but it’s hard to think clearly when one of the most formidable groups in the city is hunting you.

On grounds of the word of a terrorist they didn’t realize wanted to burn them to the ground.

Ahhh this sucked. I wanted to sit down on one of the countless benches that blurred together in my memory, but didn’t think I’d be able to get up again if I did. Where even was this? I didn’t recognize anything. At the very least I knew I wasn’t in Akutagawa’s original slum section of the city, but that hardly helped. Nothing felt familiar. Just endless expanses of buildings and homes that looked too similar to everything else in the city.

Never thought I’d hate cookie cutter homes so much.

A sharp stab of pain followed by a warm, wet feeling as if I stepped into a puddle suddenly enveloped my left foot. There goes the first blister. Yippe. Now it only gets worse from here.

Ahhh… What was I going to do? I was hopelessly lost now and about to have bloodied feet. Maybe find a clinic? More like pray I’d stumble upon one. Although, there was one place I knew exactly where it was and held good hope in getting something for my feet. The only problem was whether or not they’d help or just cut them off.

I glanced up at the menacing black towers that loomed over the city. Largest visible landmark. That’s what my camp consoler used to say: if you’re lost, go to the largest visible landmark. Unfortunately that was Port Mafia’s home base. Not exactly the best place to go right now. Even if they decided to show mercy, it’d only incriminate me further in the eyes of the Agency.

This really was the worst.

Why did this happen again? Oh, right. Because I poked the stupid manipulative blue bear. What? I thought for sure if anything she’d resort to trying to off me, not throw me under the bus for her crimes. Although looking back it makes crystal clear sense. Damn. Hindsight never felt so irritating.

Argh! I felt the tears sting my eyes but forced them down as some stray strand of social construct forbade me from crying in public. It was stupid and frustrating, and my legs and body hurt, and I was hungry and miserable and lost and scared. I didn’t know what to do. And that nearly pushed me over the edge.

I just wanted food and a bed and sleep and not to be hunted down and lost. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so. At least it wasn’t raining. Gotta find the silver lining in some part of this. Still… I glanced at the sinking sun. Wasn’t there a bomb about to go off? I mean, Dazai and the others would stop it, but what if my presence changed that? Oh gosh… Hopefully they weren’t putting that off to find me. If that was the case then we seriously needed to talk priorities.

Of which, running quickly jumped to the front of my list as a familiar voice drifted through the traffic driving beside me. Normally I’d be happy to hear it, especially after the fun we had in that game. Unfortunately things drastically changed since then. It freaking sucked cause I could’ve really used some of Kenji’s eternal sunshine at this point.

“There!” I stiffened, turning and meeting the wide eyes of the blonde and Yosano across the street.

Oh crap. So much for catching my breath and getting a soft grasp of the land. Guess it’s back to running around blindly.

My heart leapt to my throat and I didn’t bother waiting for them to move first. Why would I? Yosano was one thing, but Kenji? The guy possessed super strength and could probably catch up to me without trying. I deserved some sort of head start even if it kinda defied the silent rule of waiting for pursuers to flinch first.

“Violet, wait!” Yosano yelled.

Seriously? Why the hell would I do that when you think I’m some terrorist? No freaking way. I may be new to things here but I’m not an idiot. Why do people even bother saying things like that? Do they honestly believe that the person running will listen? Hardly.

I b-lined it into the closest alleyway. My feet screamed in pain and I stumbled a little, making my panic skyrocket. How was I supposed to get away now? Adrenaline helped, but it was slowly becoming not enough. Indeed, I could already hear them enter the alley behind me.

“Violet-chan!” Kenji called alarmingly close.

My stomach lurched and if not for sheer panic I’m pretty sure I’d have puked. What was I going to do? He was going to catch me and there was nothing stopping him. This alley seemed smart at first, but the lack of people quickly turned into a disadvantage as I couldn’t rely on crowd weaving to lose them. Where was everyone? Probably at home cooking dinner or what not…

Wait. Dinner. A crazy idea popped in my mind, inspired by a frying pan of all things. Don’t ask me why, but that image brought back a plethora of memories – most important being the alternative version of this mission. The one where Dazai was the Azure Messenger and handled it much better than me. The one where he and Kunikida caught a criminal running in an alleyway like this by saying a simple word.

A word that may just end up saving me now. Although the opposite was equally likely. Still, by the way Kenji’s feet approached steadily, I didn’t have much chance either way. If I wanted to escape, I’d have to take the risk.

Sucking in a breath, I yelled at the top of my lungs, happy that I learned the word prior, “Fire!”

My voice echoed uncannily in the peaceful twilight. At first the resulting silence made my heart stop. Did it not work? Did I say the wrong word? Oh God, I was about to die. Fortunately, before I could resign myself to false imprisonment and torture, a noise began to build – small at first, yet building exponentially until becoming deafening.

All at once, a crowd exploded into the alley, filling it instantly with panicked residents holding onto pots, pans, phones, laptops – anything they deemed worth risking burning alive to save. It worked. Just like when Dazai yelled it. Thank goodness. Now to put those crowd weaving skills to the test.

Weaving around the numerous people, I kept a good pace in the chaos – something the other two thankfully couldn’t mimic. Be that as it may, I didn’t dare look back until squirming out of the mass of frightened people searching for the flames I fooled them into thinking existed. When I did, it took all of a second to pinpoint Kenji’s blonde head a few feet away from Yosano. They were both pretty far back and caught up in the sway of the crowd.

I should’ve run then and there as they very well could escape in seconds, but an insane notion to prove my innocence kept me in place. It was stupid – like Yosano shouting wait. But it was too strong of an urge to resist. I didn’t want to be remembered as a fugitive. No. Not to them. I don’t know why, seeing as they were just characters in a story, but the thought was almost unbearable.

That and if I had any hope in returning anytime soon, I needed to start building my case.

“Wrong!” I shouted, clenching my fists as we stared at each other. Time seemed to stop along with the voices of the others growing faded as Yosano and Kenji blinked at me, their teeth unclenching as I continued in the best way someone who didn’t know the language could defend themselves, “Wrong! I’m not blue!”

I wanted to yell that the lady was lying, but I didn’t remember her name. What? She didn’t last long anyways. Besides, she was hardly a fan favorite. Maybe in the beginning when we didn’t know who she was, but I doubt anyone really cried when she left. Kinda morbid, but sometimes the truth hurts.

And boy did that hold true now.

No matter what I said, I couldn’t let them catch me. Not until this madness was over. How long until then? A day? Two? I could last that long. I think. I mean, the longest one can last without food is like three days, right? It was going to be miserable, but I could do it. Not to mention they’d probably give me a buffet of food when it all ended as an apology. Kinda made me feel guilty since I couldn’t fully blame them, but it at least gave me something to look forward to.

Something to hope for.

Lord knows how much I needed that as I held their gazes for a second longer before turning and running into the dim alley that grew steadily colder as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

 

…

 

Flashing blue lights illuminated the abandoned warehouse, creating a quasi-strobe light in the increasing darkness broken by a handful of silhouettes. While a couple walked away a young man in specialized gloves developed by the government, others scanned the area for incriminating evidence while still more huddled around one of the first responders who, after giving his testimony, turned and approached his allies.

“The bomb has been dismantled and taken away,” Kunikida informed, folding his arms and giving a breath – the only indication of how tired he felt after everything, “The police will take it from here.”

“Thank goodness it’s all over,” Atsushi smiled weakly, rubbing his sore arms and back. They still throbbed from the massive man’s attack – a person whom the blonde easily took down to the teen’s awe.

Their relief, however, cut short as Dazai pointed out grimly, “Is it though? So long as the Azure Messenger is still out there, they can replicate this as many times as they want.”

His truth sobered their sense of victory, Atsushi speaking up almost reluctantly, “Have you heard anything from Yosano-san yet?”

“She and Kenji tried tracking Violet down. They managed to find her in a suburban area, but she escaped,” Kunikida answered, shooting a look at Dazai as he finished, “Apparently she shouted “Fire” and flooded the street with panicked residents.”

“Very clever, huh?” Dazai murmured with narrowed eyes. Of all the tactics to use…

“So she got away?” Atsushi stated more than asked with a frown. Should that make him relieved or worried?

“Yes,” the blonde confirmed evenly. His frown deepened as he added the last and most worrisome bit of the doctor’s report, “Before disappearing, however, she said something…odd. According to her report, Yosano-sensei said Violet stopped and looked at them before fleeing. She shouted they were wrong – that she wasn’t blue.”

A ripple of surprise coursed through them. Dazai narrowed his eyes. Not blue? Was she trying to defend herself? Was she trying to say she wasn’t the Azure Messenger? How did she even know of that title? Even if they spoke about the person within her earshot, she wouldn’t have understood. Unless Sasaki’s theory that she was faking it was correct.

But then why continue with it when she knew they suspected her? When she held so little to gain?

Doubt steadily rose in the bandaged man alongside his companions. Who was correct? Violet or Sasaki? They couldn’t both be right. Either way, the implications that they had harbored a suspect, potentially the terrorist themselves was chilling.

“Dazai-san…” the named looked at Atsushi who frowned, guilt steadily flooding his eyes as he whispered, “Did we just accuse Violet-san for something she didn’t do? Is she lost now, because of us?”

Was it their fault? Had they incriminated an innocent? Did they mess up?

Dazai’s frown deepened. Did the Agency just accuse and almost arrest the wrong person? It was a chilling thought that instantly set alarms off in his head. The purpose of the Azure Messenger… They wanted to bring justice to Yokohama like the departed Azure King. More than that, they wanted to sully the Agency’s image. Something that would definitely occur if they arrested an innocent woman.

He narrowed his eyes, gazing past the shadows of the police into the dying rays of sunlight on the horizon as he murmured, “Not blue, huh?”

 

…

 

Water lapped lazily at the concrete docks. It was a perfect lullaby created by nature – able to cut through the muffled city life. It testified to the power of nature. After all, if all those episodes about life after people taught anything it was that with or without us the Earth would keep spinning.

Much like my blind wandering drew out endlessly as I stumbled forward, nearly tripping in the process.

Tears stung at my eyes, dulling the throbbing pain in my feet that were now a bloodied mess. Each step felt like I was walking on sticky glass, but I was so exhausted that it felt distant. Not that I couldn’t feel it. Please. Life wasn’t that merciful. Only that my mind was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other that not even their screams to stop registered.

Don’t stop. Just keep walking forward.

Without warning my foot tripped itself, sending me to my knees. The impact shocked me into crying out weakly as pain seared my palms and knees. Ouch… I winced, unable to move for a bit. Heck, I was seconds from saying screw it and face planting like Atsushi when the series started. Never thought I’d sympathize so much with the teen until then.

Whether it was out of desperation or instinct, I forced my shaking limbs to push upwards until I stumbled back to my reproachful feet. My stomach felt completely empty, but hunger long since lost its potency. Instead the throbbing pain of my feet and stinging of tears that refused to come tormented me.

How did things end up this way? What went wrong? I know, the answer is obvious. But doesn’t this dilemma happen after a few minor ones? Did they skip that theme for me? Rude. Snatching away my translator thing was bad enough. Couldn’t the world give me some slack? All I wanted was my bed in the Agency, but not even that was possible.

Gosh. This sucked. Absolutely sucked. And the worst part was I couldn’t simply try and give in and die cause there’s no telling if that would bring me back to my safe, beautiful, wonderful non-ability user filled, English speaking world.

Despair felt like a demon devouring me. Sure, there was that small sliver of hope from earlier, but it was so small it was almost funny to think it actually could accomplish anything. Sure, I held it in some regard earlier, but exhaustion, hunger, and pain tend to do a number on one’s psyche. And mine was taking one hell of a beating.

I sighed, looking up into the sky and wanting to cry as only blackness stared back at me. What I wouldn’t give to see at least a couple of stars. They always seemed to calm me down before, and their disappearance now only made me impossibly more miserable. What was I going to do?

What could I even do?

Chapter 9: Lost in Translation

Summary:

Events begin to wrap up, but some loose ends spell much longer trials to come.

I don’t how long I was out but it wasn’t nearly enough. It felt like seconds and probably was.

After wandering around for hours, the protests of my poor feet finally grew loud enough that they couldn’t be ignored. As luck would have it, nothing in the remote area looked particularly close to a safe motel to crash at. Although at that point the sidewalk was steadily gaining appeal. Fortunately, some sanity must’ve remained as I stumbled into the nearest warehouse instead of plopping down in the middle of a creepy alleyway.

Not exactly a Marriott or Day’s Inn, but at least I wouldn’t get rained on. After everything that may just push me over the edge.

I say as if I haven’t already stumbled over.

Darkness filled the open room completely – to the point I barely made out the crate I rested against. If not for harsh wood scraping my skin and giving me twenty splinters, I’d probably not know what it was. Nothing gave even the smallest semblance of light. From outside the window, a faint light glowed, but no moonlight or blurry starlight. Dawn was probably near.

Thank goodness. Maybe when the sun finally rose, everything would be over. It was a long shot, considering time was a bit wonky here. But if anyone, Dazai should’ve figured things out by now, right? Maybe it was safer to wait til sunset. Oh gosh… Could I even make it that far?

A deep growl sounded in the silence. Instead of scaring me, it only made me groan and curl in on myself. My stomach felt like it was eating itself alive. It was a whole nother form of hunger I’d only experienced after food poisoning. The sensation of a totally empty stomach – not even scraps remaining to appease it. It sucked and seemed to sap the last bits of energy and will from me.

What was I going to do? I didn’t know where I was and for all I knew it would be another two days until they realized that lady was the real criminal, not me. Two days. There’s no way I’d make it that far. I barely held strength to make it through another hour.

Why? Why did this happen?

Without warning, the silence was shattered by a creaking noise that grew exponentially. I nearly leapt out of my skin. It sounded like a door was opening. Crap, did the owner of this place find out that I let myself in? Hopefully they’d show some sympathy… As if. The only ones I held faith in that insanity were hunting me down.

The urge to cry was never stronger.

Sticking around was no longer an option if I wanted to see another day, leaving only one thing. Hopefully all those compliments and curses about my light-footedness held some accuracy, cause I was about to put it to the test. Or so I believed. They always said sleep deprivation does a number on your memory. Apparently they were right.

The moment I stood, a fierce bolt of pain nearly sent me back to the ground. Before I could face plant, I stumbled onto the crate, tearing up from the combination of splinters jabbing into my palms and the much stronger agony of my raw feet. I didn’t want to look at them. Why bother? I knew how they must look: bloodied and red, full of blisters and painful marks unobscured by the shoes I quickly abandoned. I thought it’d help them feel better but it only exposed them to the harsh ground. Now they were a cruel mocking of my horrible choices.

It was a sore theme as of late.

And it only grew worse as I cried out in pain out of pure reflex. It was small and quiet, but in this silence it might as well have been a gun shot. Something I came to learn was deafening in the next few seconds.

Angry shouts echoed in the dark followed by a sound I’d yet to hear outside of movies but was clear enough to make my stomach plummet. Whoever came to investigate came prepared for a fight. Smart considering Yokohama. But overall not what I needed right now.

Adrenaline worked wonders like usual and proved a life saver as it numbed the pain. Was that really a good thing though? I mean, it helped now, but what about later? Wasn’t moving around only going to make my feet worse? It seemed a bit counterproductive…. Okay. Yeah. I know, I know. Live to complain about it later Violet. But it was a serious question.

One that quickly lost importance as something whizzed by my leg, echoed by an explosive sound that shattered the silence. I screamed, instantly bolting like any sane person. That was a bullet – a freaking bullet! Why was this guy shooting? He didn’t even see me yet! What was this? Shoot first, ask questions later? Come on. All they had to do was look at me to see I wasn’t a threat. Heck, just throw me out. Don’t shoot me.

Guess he lacked manners, that and, thankfully, aim as another bullet zoomed past and embedded itself with a loud clang in the far wall. He definitely needed practice – something I was not about to stick around and volunteer as some moving target practice-dummy.

Ducking behind rows of boxes, I fled as fast as I could to the opening I entered through. Hopefully it wasn’t too obvious of a move. I mean he sounded like he was on the other side, so there was some hope righ-?

“You! Don’t move!”

Suddenly a hand shot out from the darkness like some demon. I yelped, dropping down and managing to evade it but my heart practically lodged itself in my throat as I made out two more silhouettes. Apparently this guy didn’t come alone. Fantastic. Just what I didn’t need. How the heck was I supposed to get out now? Sure, by the sound of it this guy was less trigger happy than his friend, but I didn’t want to stick around to see what did appeal to him and if he was a better shot than-

Oh gosh. Was this a trap? Was the other guy purposely missing? To get me to come this way? To torment me? Oh God. What did I get myself into now?

The person growled something darkly, and I was happy not to know exactly what he threatened. For once ignorance was blissful and not inhibiting. Now if it could only get me out alive, that’d be amazing.

No? Well time to make some insane moves. As terrifying as getting shot was, I liked it better than sticking around to see what these three demons wanted.

Forcing my body to move, I dodged the man’s hand once more. Sheer luck or was he not trying either? Was this another trap? Were they manipulating me into going in the only direction that spelled escape? Or were they that confident I’d freeze up and let them catch me? I didn’t know. Everything seemed likely and my mind felt overwhelmed. Nothing felt real but everything did. I don’t know how to describe it. Only that it felt like I was going insane. Was this paranoia? Or sheer terror?

Either way, I didn’t stick around to psychoanalyze my thoughts and feelings. Trap or not, I needed to get out of this slowly shrinking room. My throat felt like a noose wrapped itself around it. Breathing hurt, but I was certain whatever they planned would hurt more. All the motivation I needed to sprint out.

Everything after that was a blur. Their angry shouts, the pounding of feet on the floor, crates crashing to the ground from haphazard tugs I barely realized I did to block them from following, hands ghosting along my hood…. It was a freaking nightmare. One I was all too happy to get out of. By some miracle I managed to reach the door, and despite the terrible paranoia this was all a ruse leading to worse things on the outside, I threw it open without hesitation.

Humid sea air filled my lungs as an unhindered breeze gushed around me – ripping the hood off my head instantly. Nothing but black water disturbed by small waves greeted me. Nothing. It wasn’t a trap. All those fears were just in my mind. Thank goodness….

A bullet whizzing by far too close for comfort quickly destroyed that solace. Right. Getting shot at and chased. How could I forget?

Tearing leftwards, I raced down along the building and darted in the nearest alleyway I could find. I had no idea where I was going, but anywhere away from them sounded good enough. Unfortunately, I held a sinking feeling they knew the layout of this place like the back of their hand. Even then, my bloodied feet left a blaring trail to follow. Sure, the darkness helped me now, but the sun was coming. And unlike before, it was not my friend in this case.

How morbidly ironic. Seconds earlier it was my saving grace, yet now it spelt my death.

The only thing I could do was pray that I’d lose them like Yosano and Kenji or they’d lose interest. Bloodthirsty yells, however, mocked the mere thought they’d just let me go. Come on. Was it that hard to let go of a grudge? If I managed to get out of this mess I vowed never to be petty with another person for as long as I lived. Why were they even this angry? Was breaking in that serious to these people? There wasn’t anything in that place except old boxes that were probably empty by how easy it was to throw them down!

A stab of pain shot straight up my spine, nearly sending me to the ground. I must’ve stepped on a pebble, but to my raw feet it felt like a knife. By some miracle I stumbled forward, veering off to where a bridge connected to much more appealing buildings I prayed harbored at least one noble citizen that would hide me from these lunatics. Surely there had to be some good people in this city.

Why else would Fukuzawa and Mori fight so hard to protect it?

“H-Help…!” I rasped out, wincing at how weak my shout was. It was hard enough to draw in air necessary to keep running, let alone scream for help.

Help that would come too late as a searing pain suddenly sliced across my arm. I tried to gasp but the following agony suffocated me. It felt like someone pressed a searing hot iron rod to my skin. A sickening thought hit me. Had I been shot? Was this what it felt like to get hit by a bullet?

After what felt like years, time shot forward and my body suddenly stopped working. Shock paralyzed it. And at no worse a moment my feet tangled, throwing me into the edge of the bridge. An edge that did nothing to protect me from falling over. Weightlessness surrounded me – a distant feeling from the fiery pain spreading like poison from my arm. I cried out weakly. Everything hurt. I was scared. I was going to die, here and now, with no hope of rescue.

I was on my own in a cruel world that didn’t blink at the loss of a single life.

Yet even that faded as I hit the river below; its dark waters devouring everything in seconds.

 

…

 

“I’ll push right past those flames. Don’t underestimate my ideals!”

Kunikida’s resolve resounded in the quite room, echoing rebelliously against the prophecy spelling his demise. No. He would not fall to those flames. He was not the Azure King. The mere idea made him sick. How could anyone possibly relate him with the terrorist? His ideals were not so weak as to force him into harming others – to betraying them.

He was not the Azure King.

He was Kunikida Doppo. No one else. So why did Dazai and Sasaki compare him to that man? It was insane. Completely illogical. How could they-?

“She shouted wrong over and over. And then said she wasn’t blue.”

Ah. Didn’t he just do the same? Didn’t they all just assume Violet was the Azure Messenger? Only, unlike him, she had no way to properly defend herself. The only option she had was to run from the very people who she thought were protecting her.

From the people who were supposed to be her protectors from something they still didn’t fully understand.

“Damnit…!” he cursed under his breath, averting his eyes from Dazai’s frown, “We don’t have time for this. We need to find Violet.”

Before her…death, Sasaki revealed her plot to slander the Agency through their failures in protecting the city. A particular stinging piece was Violet’s role in it – something that made him feel sick even now as he recalled her explanation.

“Violet-san’s inability to speak proved to be a great help. That girl, she’s very perceptive. I think from the moment we met she knew who I was. I don’t know how, but that’s the feeling she gave me when she called me blue. Of course, I couldn’t just assume she’d stay quiet forever.”

“So you set her up – used her words and our lack of information about her against us. You instilled just enough doubt that we’d suspect Violet-chan and, once pushed enough, would arrest her. An innocent victim callously arrested by the Agency… Not exactly failing to disarm a bomb, but sufficient enough to create doubt in any future client of our ability.”

Dazai’s conclusion, spoken so certainly as if he predicted this, grated uncomfortably against his nerves. Whether or not he saw through her play from the beginning, it did not change the fact that they nearly played right into Sasaki’s plan. Just like that group. More painful, however, was that Violet was still missing – probably wandering around lost, hungry, scared… All because of that woman’s plot.

No. Kunikida grimaced. Because of their assumptions.

“Blaming ourselves won’t find Violet-chan,” Dazai murmured almost comfortingly, drawing his partner’s attention as he turned and gazed out the window, “Don’t worry Kunikida-kun. We’ll find her. Ranpo-kun should be back by now and already agreed to help.”

Ranpo. Yes. With his Super Deduction they’d find her in seconds. And yet…

“Do you think she is like Ranpo-san?” he found himself asking with narrowed eyes, “Did she see something we didn’t? Is that how she suspected Sasaki-san?”

Dazai frowned, pausing before replying at length, “It is possible. Either way, we know now that despite her looks and hindered speech, Violet-chan is no fool. She was smart enough to solve the case in a glance.”

Solve? No. That didn’t feel right. It was too easy. Like a ruse disguising the real answer. Did Violet truly see through things? Was she like Ranpo? Or… Dazai narrowed his eyes. Was it more than that? Was she hiding something from them? Something, perhaps, like an ability? One she may not even know she possessed? Or one she was wise enough to conceal?

He couldn’t tell. Not now. Not until they found her – something that steadily gained importance as the weight of their thoughts grew without restraint. Enemy or not, they couldn’t let her wander around. Not just for recompense of their actions, but the chilling thought of her falling into the wrong hands.

Hands seeped in black blood that wouldn’t hesitate to exploit such a trait even if it was from a helpless girl.

But was she really so helpless? The thought quickly lost credence as minutes turned to hours and nothing came from their efforts to locate the blonde. It was infuriating and harsh on their nerves – Ranpo especially who, after two hours of scanning through Yosano’s report and Violet’s entrance, gave a disgruntled huff and stomped away, muttering he couldn’t be expected to pull an answer out of thin air.

“I’m a detective not some stupid magician.”

His words echoed in their minds, only deepening the guilt in Atsushi’s eyes as he stared aimlessly out the window. Outside the orange glow from the setting sun made his hair glow as if caught on fire. A fire that only consumed him and the others as their faint leads only resulted in dead ends and aimless wandering about the city for a person they didn’t know wouldn’t just run from them at first sight.

Kunikida grimaced. He couldn’t blame her. Especially after how headstrong they were in the beginning. He should’ve told Yosano later in person. Not to argue his actions weren’t correct in the moment. They were perfectly aligned for the situation.

How could he or any of them possibly known that Violet would see through their actions and run?

“More perceptive than she looks, huh…?” Dazai murmured from across the table, drawing the others’ attention as he mulled, face scrunching as if tasting something unpleasant as he repeated, “Perceptive…”

They exchanged frowns, Atsushi speaking timidly as if afraid to break the sudden gleam of realization in his eyes, “Dazai-san?”

The man frowned, remaining silent and allowing their tension to build to the point they were ready to scream or strangle him to continue. Fortunately, before they could snap, he drew a hand under his chin in thought as he spoke, “What if it’s not perception?”

“What do you mean?” Kenji frowned. Beside him Tanizaki mirrored his confusion, “Are you saying that Sasaki-san’s theory is wrong?”

“It is a possibility,” Dazai confessed, adding with more weight as he explained his thoughts, “Sasaki-san said that Violet-chan appeared to know who she was from the start. Sure, it is not impossible as we of all people know,” they glanced over to Ranpo who huffed at the thought of there being someone remotely like him, “But I am beginning to doubt that. And not simply because our Ranpo-kun is one-of-a-kind.”

“Then why? If it wasn’t through observation and deduction, how did Violet know she was the Azure Messenger?” Yosano asked, adding ominously, “Unless that woman was right about her actually knowing what we were saying, it’s impossible.”

Her words weighed heavily on them as Kunikida looked down in thought. She was right. There was no way Violet could know all of that without understanding them. It was impossible. Completely out of the-

“No, it’s not…” he growled. How could they be so blind? They of all people knew impossibilities were mere child’s play to people endowed with gifts like those they possessed. Gifts that could defy the very logic of this world.

Dazai smiled like a proud teacher seeing his students finally grasp a concept as he finished his thought, “Not if Violet-chan is an ability user – one, perhaps, gifted with the ability of prophecy.”

His words struck them like cold water. It made perfect sense. How else would she know about Sasaki? She must’ve seen her treachery from the start. That’s why she was acting so strange earlier. She wasn’t angry with Dazai or any of them. She was wary of the person they brought in. She was keeping her distance like any sane person would from the mastermind behind the killings and chaos.

Be that as it may, the cold reality only made Atsushi feel sicker as he said in a weak voice, “If that’s true, then Violet-san’s inability to speak may have been caused by someone who knew – someone who wanted to keep her quiet.”

His theory held ominous implications, ones Yosano couldn’t disprove as she agreed soberly, “It would explain a lot. If someone knew Violet could see the future and took advantage of her ability – especially if she didn’t want them to – they might very well have resorted to psychological torture. It easily causes regenerative disorders; loss of speech only the tip of that nasty iceberg, unfortunately.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Tanizaki argued with a frown, “If they wanted to take advantage of her ability, then why resort to something that would make her unable to tell them what she saw?”

“Not necessarily,” Ranpo rebutted, “You haven’t forgotten how she has been communicating with us for the past few days, right?”

The sketchbook. Right. She didn’t need words. She simply needed a medium – verbal or physical. Nevertheless, it failed to ease their tension.

“But I thought she said that she loved her family,” Atsushi weakly argued.

“Loving someone does not condone their actions, nor does it prompt reciprocal feelings,” Dazai softly responded, “If anything it reveals Violet-chan’s pure heart – one that continues to hope even when it is illogical and undeserved.”

A person with a pure heart… His words twisted the knife in their hearts. They drove away someone like that…

Silence descended on them as the sun continued to descend, dragging their hopes in tow as Naomi murmured, “I hope she’s safe…”

“Don’t worry,” her brother reassured with a weak smile, “Violet-san isn’t helpless. She knew how to evade us when the time came. Taking care of herself for the time being should be simple for her.”

His reassurance held minimal effect yet was sufficient to prompt a nod from the girl. Something contrasting greatly to the sudden epiphany lighting Dazai’s eyes.

“She knew how to evade us…” he echoed, drawing their attention as he straightened in his chair.

“Dazai?” Kunikida prompted.

“Violet-chan. Her tactics so far – the way she interacted with us from the start. They are all connected by one thing,” Dazai’s features grew sober as he gazed at Ranpo across from him, the detective catching on instantly and murmuring, “Familiarity.”

Confusion littered the other faces in the room, easing a little as Dazai clarified, “Think about it. From the moment Violet-chan stumbled into the office to her last sighting she held no trace of mistrust toward any of us. If anything she believed us too quickly. Almost as if she was an old friend.”

“But none of us knew her before this…” Tanizaki trailed off.

“Exactly,” Dazai nodded, holding up a finger, “But Violet-chan may have known us.”

“But how? It doesn’t make sense,” Kunikida objected, “Even if her ability lends her foresight, there’s too much coincidence if all her visions pinpointed us and no one else.”

“Well, considering she is an ability user,” Yosano rebutted, “She may have held access to our files. There’s any number of reasons, but that doesn’t change the truth in Dazai’s theory. Violet’s actions, now that I think about it, were familiar. Almost like she took one from our book and applied it to her situation.”

“No,” Ranpo cut them off, easily gathering the room’s attention as he stared at the man across from him, “Not our books. Dazai’s.”

What? Kunikida tensed. Dazai? Why…? No. He was right. The way she easily hugged him in the beginning. How she opened up so quickly. The way she escaped Kenji and Yosano… It was all too similar to what the man did during their first mission together. But why? Was she specifically looking at Dazai’s life and simply knew theirs because they were coworkers? Why? What was she looking for?

It didn’t matter. If Ranpo was correct as he typically was, then finding Violet may have gotten easier. Or, at the very least, gained some direction.

If she really was hinting at that knowledge subconsciously or not, then logically she would go to places he knew. Places that held meaning to Dazai and potentially themselves. It narrowed their field exponentially, and yet so many options remained…

“Dazai…?” the blonde prompted, narrowing his eyes at the ripples of thought swaying in his partner’s eyes.

The man gave a weak smile his way, seemingly coming to a narrowed list of potential spots she could be. Nevertheless, the lingering unease in his expression sent grey uncertainty through them as he sighed, “For someone who can barely speak, Violet-chan sure knows how to leave a loud message, huh?”

 

…

 

Have you ever almost drowned? Not completely to the point you pass out and nearly die, but right before that. When you suck in that first horrid gulp of water – lungs instantly imploding as they realize what your mind has been screaming all along? No? Well, take it from me, it sucks.

And heaving up water is not much better. Sure, beats death by drowning, but at this rate I’d rather go in a numb sleep than continue. Coughs tore at my throat, making my already weak limbs tremble in effort to cling to the edge of a concrete walkway. It was a miracle I hadn’t lost my grip like the last few times, but by the way my arm throbbed I knew it wasn’t going to be long.

Since taking a swan dive into the stream, my world transformed into a chaotic limbo of dark currents tearing at every part of me – only relenting as instincts to survive kicked in. Unfortunately the shock of getting shot rendered me paralyzed for longer than I can remember.

I was shot. Shot. Oh God…

But, you know, for getting shot this wasn’t so bad. I mean, no, it hurt like hell. Don’t mistake that little bit. But not as bad as I would’ve thought. Sort of like my first bee sting. All in all a bit underwhelming, yet nothing I’d volunteer for again. After all, I was pretty sure I lucked out and only got nicked.

Or at least I hoped so.

Either way I was pretty sure my arm now bore a nasty gash – one these murky waters were not helping in the slightest. It’d be a miracle if it didn’t get infected. Hopefully this Azure stuff was over. I managed to put off going to the doctor before, but if I wanted to keep my arm I really needed to see Yosano or someone soon. Or at the very least get some antibiotic.

Unfortunately, standing in between was the monumental task of getting on dry land. You know, for a lazy stream going through a city it really had one hell of a current. That or maybe it was lack of food and sleep and anxiety. Sounds about right.

Now if only I could muster the strength to pull myself up or it’d be take twenty of lunging for the edge. Hopefully those maniacs who shot me weren’t that persistent…. Yeah, and the sky is orange at night. Although, looking at the rays of gold beginning to cut through the sky, it appeared that a nice sunrise was on the way.

One that would look ten times better on solid ground.

Grunting, I pushed up with my one good arm, frantically beating my legs and trying not to think about all the bacteria entering the cuts in my feet and arm. I could worry about that later when I was safe enough to think about it.

Come on… Just a bit further… I could feel the concrete scrape against my skin as Yosano’s hoodie and my sweater and tank-top scrunched up. Gosh. Yosano’s hoodie… It definitely saw better days. I hope it wasn’t one with sentimental value, cause this was probably it’s last outing. Can’t say it wasn’t eventful for a last time.

By some miracle, I pulled myself onto land. More like halfway since by the time my waist rested over the edge that was it for my little strength. Somehow the contact of dry land sent a message to the water in my lungs that it was time to leave for good since I started coughing madly. Not even two seconds passed. Was it so hard to just relax for a second? Probably, but still.

My whole body ached. Moving felt laughable, so I clung to the concrete weakly and just gave into the boughs of spitting up water until the dry heaving came and went. Even then, it wasn’t until the indigo peering above the skyscrapers faded to soft orange and dark pinks that I squirmed the rest of the way.

I never felt so exhausted and completely drained in my life. Sure, we always say that after a rough day, but this time was entirely different. Forget rude people and bad luck – I got shot and hunted down because of the accusation of the real criminal. Think I got most bad days in my world beat. Not to mention I don’t think I could stand even if those goons chased me this far.

Where was I? It didn’t look familiar and yet something about it did. Where was this? It seemed to be some sidewalk beside the stream, and if I strained to look I could make out a bridge in the distance. Maybe if I’d eaten something in the past 24 hours and slept more than 3 hours I’d be able to tell, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

How much time passed? Was it safe to go back to the Agency now? At least they’d give me something to eat, even if they still tried to throw me in prison. Sadly the idea strongly appealed. I’m pretty sure a cell will have some sort of bed. I could care less if it was springy. Heck, the concrete began feeling blissful at this point. Sadly, the persistent throbbing of my arm and feet shoved away sleep. Rude much. Couldn’t they get along for like, ten minutes? Wait. No. Scratch that, I need at least four hours.

Not surprised to say it didn’t stop because I wanted it to. Kinda figured. If it somehow managed to die down a little, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep when people started roaming around. Causing a scene was the last thing I wanted. Although it was a bit of a lost cause considering the blood coating my arm and feet. Unless I could somehow play it off as paint…. Yeah. As if.

Ugh. I needed to get out. At the very least to somewhere safe and out of view to poke at my wound without making some poor person run away screaming. My body groaned in protest the moment the thought of moving popped into my head. Yes. Yes. I know. I don’t want to either but I’d rather waste away in the cool shadows without a crowd than in the soon to be burning heat. Capiche?

By nothing short of a miracle, I pushed myself to my knees with one had. Whew. I needed a breather. How pathetic was that? Not at all. I just treaded water for an hour at least. Try doing that for fifteen minutes, and then we can debate whether or not my shaking limbs were justified. Still…. Damn. It was going to be a nightmare to walk up that hill… Would it kill them to put a guard rail to lean on to climb up those stairs?

I sighed. Whelp. Looks like a morning hike is in store for this kid. Yippie. Where were Dazai and Ranpo and the others with their heroic always-there-at-exactly-the-right-time-ness? 

The sound of shoes lightly tapping the ground sounded as if cued. Ah. Thank goodness. Reality was finally looking up. Better late than never. Hopefully they had some hot cocoa or Earl Grey tea. I was really craving something sweet and liquidy. My throat felt like the Sahara on a particularly nasty day.

That didn’t stop the hopeful note in my voice as I turned and faced them, rasping out as best I could, “Da-”

 

…

 

“-zai."

The man blinked as a hand rested on his shoulder almost comfortingly. It felt heavy nevertheless, filled with the weight of a guilty conscious and building despair. Even after all this – after such a solid lead – it only resulted in the concrete before them. Its off-white surface glowed with a dying orange that lit the tips of the small waves of the stream beyond it with tiny flames. In time they too would succumb to the darkness.

Sunset was all but over, leaving nothing but cold darkness and an empty expanse of land before him.

Kunikida sighed, pulling his hand from his partner’s shoulder and turning back to the sea of worried faces. Shaking his head he continued forward, leading them away from the familiar shore until only the bandaged man and Atsushi remained.

The weretiger felt overwhelmed by despair. It felt so right – as if it couldn’t possibly be wrong. Which only made the reality far crueler.

This was where he and Dazai met – the exact spot in almost the right time of day. It felt so right. If Violet really did know about them and was acting in personal ways, then this screamed an obvious place to find her. Yet no one remained. Not even a trace of the blonde, should she have been here, was left behind. Only them and the cold concrete beneath their feet.

He glanced warily at Dazai who remained silent, murmuring quietly, “Dazai-san…”

The named sighed. He was wrong. Violet was not here. It fit so perfectly – perhaps too much so. Maybe it really was a shot in the dark. But if that was the case, then was it pointless to search for her? No. He knew that was a horrid choice. Violet was out there, and if they gave up on her then she would definitely fall into the wrong hands.

But it was more than preventing a potentially powerful yet vulnerable ability user from getting taken by malicious people. It was about helping someone – about being a good person.

Still… Dazai frowned, hesitating before he turned to follow the others.

It felt so right.

A little ways ahead, clinging by fibers to the concrete, a woolen scrap of clothing succumbed to the tugging current.

 

…

 

“-zai…” I trailed off, losing every ounce of hope left as the dark figure outlined by two others cleared.

He wasn’t unfamiliar. Far from faceless. No. I knew him. He was kinda cool, I’ll admit. But that wasn’t for some time.

Not to mention he didn’t spell anything good. Especially with the brunette and black haired figures giving death stares my way, former growling out something I didn’t bother to try and translate.

Why waste the effort?

There was nothing lost in the silent translation of one of Port Mafia’s most relentless squads staring me down, and I held a sinking feeling that those goons in the warehouse were no mere gun-happy residents. No. Not at all.

They were Port Mafia members – in a warehouse owned by the group.

And I was dead meat.

Notes:

Longer than usual chapter but this about wraps up the Azure Messenger events. Next week is a bit hectic so next chapter may be a bit shorter.

Hope you all have a nice week~

Chapter 10: Deafening Silence

Summary:

In the recesses of Port Mafia, there's little hope to speak of.

Port Mafia.

They were the dark wardens of the night – the most powerful ability group in all of Yokohama. Everyone knew them, and a surprising amount of people walked among their ranks. Given their infamous name and power, it was a deal with the devil complete with unyielding temptation. Previously they were restricted to the shadows, but ever since that day their actions grew much more recognizable.

Perhaps the government regrets that deal so long ago, much like those who sat in the recesses of the earth below Port Mafia – awaiting their impending doom.

After all, few if any ever made it out of these dungeons to tell their bloodied tales.

And I didn’t like my odds in joining that exclusive group whatsoever.

This was Port Mafia’s torture dungeon. A place where countless died – a good amount by someone blaringly familiar. How many rested in this very cell? Was this the one Kyouka was in? Or a different one? Even in the pits of hell and death these questions nagged at me. Guess it hadn’t really sunken in that, unlike before, I was not a safe observer on the other side of a screen.

No. I was smack dab in the middle.

Why? What did I do to warrant this extremity? Sneak into a warehouse? Please, I didn’t open a single crate. Well… Maybe I did break a few, but that was after they started shooting. So what’s the deal? Some secret weapon? Not like I could tell the world. At least not the non-English speaking one. If they were going to go this far, they could’ve at least thrown in a pillow.

Guess that’d only defeat the whole terror and doom vibe they had going.

High pitched jangling of chains echoed eerily in the silence as I shifted. Chains? Why? Where were they? Was there another unfortunate soul? Sadly (or I guess fortunately) I was the only poor sod here. One with their wrists cuffed together and chained to the far wall.

Again: why? This was more than overkill. Who did they think I was? Dazai? I could barely stand, let alone wreak havoc. Maybe they were just paranoid? Over some boxes in a warehouse? Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a five minute translator to just say I didn’t see anything and please let me go.

Silver lining was the chain wasn’t short and the pain had persisted for so long I think I was growing used to it. That or this was the final steps until a never ending descent. Or, rather, a very morbid landing when it came.

Whoa. Wait. Hold on. Wasn’t this going too fast? Where were my normal life filler arcs? Where were the OVA-type shenanigans? Why’d I have to jump all the way to evil boss confrontation? Everything was happening so fast. Isn’t there supposed to be like ten more episodes before this? So much for building to a climax. I barely got here and now I was facing the deadliest group in the city. Well, for now at least.

Still, it wasn’t fair. First the translator, then the heroic reunion, and now skipping plot points? Was I ever going to get some normal character traits? Guess that may be asking too much considering I wasn’t a character in this world, but still. Give me something good.

Geez… I sighed, not bothering to look up and see the bloodstained walls in barely noticeable lighting. Guess they were saving on electricity. Not like anyone here needed light. They weren’t sticking around for long anyways.

Sheesh. What’s with the depressing thoughts? Probably hunger and sleep deprivation. I said earlier that I could pass out on the ground but the sucky part about this was that even though the darkness tried to lull me to sleep, the chains digging into my wrists prevented me from falling asleep more than a few seconds. It was torture. Cruel and unusual torture fitting of the mafia.

Since sleep was an obvious no, I tried passing the time. Unfortunately without any windows or doors, it felt like time stopped. For all I knew I’d been here for weeks. Probably not since I’d die of starvation by then, but my mind was all sorts of mixed up. Was this before or after Dazai got caught? Gosh I hope before. If this was after then I’d really lose it.

Although, perhaps that wasn’t exactly bad. I mean, if it was then Chuuya was back too right? If anyone in this series spoke English it was that man. Sure, the theory was never proven, but given the real Chuuya’s knack for different languages, it was more probable with him than someone else. Still, was it such a good idea to talk to him? While I fawned over him in reality, things were very different here. And if there was one thing I was certain of it was his loyalty to Port Mafia.

The very group I seemingly ticked off to the point I got a one-way ticket here.

Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to see him. At least not for a while. He may be cool from afar, but I didn’t want to experience his brand of brutal torture and feel my bones crack under gravity. Please. Yosano and Kenji can do as they please but this kid is not picking a fight against gravity.

Something moved out of the corner of my eye. I think I must’ve started hallucinating because I swear a shadow gained form and depth and moved. The hell? Was this place haunted? Lord. That means demons cause no way this horrid place harbored anything but resentment and evil. Why? Just why?

Footsteps echoed in the darkness and drew ever closer, only making me sicker and gosh I was going to die this was it I’m dead and gone and- Wait. Footsteps? Ghosts don’t have footsteps.

No. But apparently demons do.

The shadow that my abused psyche thought was a demon wasn’t far off. I mean, if anyone could claim the title it was probably Dazai. But he no longer worked for Port Mafia. Still, his young apprentice was a very close second and good heir to the title. After all, his ability in and of itself was a demon possessing his jacket.

Dazai may have been the Demon Prodigy, but Akutagawa is the Black Demon himself.

Oh gosh. Was this actually it? Was he sent to kill me? Was I about to feel what it was like to be eaten alive – to have my leg torn clean off? Oh come on. Really? Why? What did I do to deserve that? Couldn’t they have some mercy and like poison me or something? Give me some time for hope. Wasn’t that what torture tried to do? Give hope just to steal it away?  Why Akutagawa? Why not Higuchi or someone other than the angsty guy?

The guy who decapitates people and asks questions later. The guy who is a freaking brutal glass canon. The guy who largely owes Dazai for his horrid tactics. The guy who holds grudges against anyone the bandaged man remotely compliments.

The guy who just walked right by my cell.

What?

I mean. Good.  I didn’t want to talk to him anyways. But why was he here then? There was no one else here. Maybe to reminisce? Or perhaps clean up old corpses? Kinda a lackey job. Guess he messed up something?

Akutagawa’s low voice murmured through the stone halls. Was he talking to himself? Can’t say I saw it coming. I mean, Dazai sure, but Akutagawa? Guess he picked up more than any of us thought from the ex-executive.

A crashing sound made me jump and I think I may have yelped as I shot away from the bars like they were hot iron. What the heck? Was he finishing someone off? Oh gosh. Don’t tell me that was my sliver of hope – that this was some morbid twist on a firing squad. Geez. At least they held some vain hope of there being no bullet aimed their way. I’m pretty sure Rashoumon wasn’t getting full any time soon. The thing was a freaking monster, literally. Although maybe some things made it sick? Perhaps bad food? Hardly a compliment but I’d take the first title if it let me live with all my appendages and – oh gosh he’s back.

I was so tired and exhausted before, but stress was like ten shots of espresso to my blood as I tensed so much I think I cracked a few bones. This was it. My turn. Oh gosh. Just make it quick. I don’t like pain. No thank you. Just make it quick and easy and I’ll try not to leave a mess. Oh gosh. Oh gosh…

Akutagawa walked past my cell.

What? What was this? A friendly house call to spike Violet’s shot nerves? Or maybe some venting? Either way please do so in a less creepy way, please. Just cause you’re in Port Mafia doesn’t mean you have to live a creep vibe. Be normal. Honestly. Was that so hard to ask? If he continued he’d give Port Mafia a horrid…image….

A flash of color in this red and black world swept by like a phantom. When it reached the center of the bars, a pair of lifeless blue eyes bore back at me – the only recognition of my presence since being thrown into this hellhole. They were haunting and waited for an end that would free them from a burden too heavy for those young shoulders.

“Kyouka…” I whispered before I could stop myself. Crap. What did I just do? She may be more of a puppet now but that wouldn’t stop her from slitting my throat. Oh gosh. Dodged Rashoumon only to get skewered by Demon Snow.

Or so I thought as Kyouka merely blinked before following after Akutagawa soundlessly. Did I just dodge another bullet? For the second time in a row? What was this? I was never this lucky. Dazai maybe, but not this kid. What was happening? Was this some sort of ‘spend all of your luck in the span of an hour before you meet your doom and don’t need it anymore’?

Either way, it was a hell of a way to get your blood pumping. Unfortunately I didn’t have the energy to do that again. Heck, if they played that trick one more time I was pretty sure I’d black out. Although at this point it would be a blessing. All that adrenaline made the pulsing agony of my feet and arm revive to heightened levels. A sour smell filled my nose as I glanced at my arm. Great. If it wasn’t infected before, it surely was now. Not to mention open as fresh red spread down my sweater’s sleeve.

What was happening? How did I possibly end up here? Was this where I was going to die? No. I didn’t want that. But what the heck could I do? Fight? Run? I was ability-less and chained up in a cell below freaking Port Mafia. There was nothing I could do but wait for either the end or some miracle that steadily disintegrated.

I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my head into them. Despair made my heart twist painfully, but at least it did some good in leaving me so drained sleep finally greeted me. Maybe it would stay a while longer than before…

And maybe, just maybe, when I woke up I wouldn’t be here in this hellhole but my room back in reality.

 

…

 

Unsurprisingly, I barely got a wink of sleep. I think I managed a few fifteen minute intervals, but nothing more. It sucked, and the inability to tell how much time passed was maddening. If I didn’t see a window soon I think I was going to go insane. How did those people in ship hulls crossing the Atlantic for months survive this hell? Guess not many did and the survivors were few and weak by the time they touched dry land once more.

If only I could escape from these chains and this cell. Sure, Port Mafia was not to be messed with or underestimated, but I reached the point of desperation. Reached? No. My mistake. I passed it hours or days or however long ago when Akutagawa and Kyouka walked out. Waiting for someone no longer appealed. For all I knew the Agency gave up on me. Either way, if this was going to be my death then I’d at least try to get out. You know, human dignity and all that stuff.

Not to mention I’d kill to eat scraps of anything right now. When was my last meal? I’d woken up a few times from the shallow sleep blessing me to find a half-eaten piece of bread and I think sardines. But that was a mockery to my growling stomach and hardly helped. If anything they only reminded me how hungry I was. A cruel reality I couldn’t stop myself from choosing as my body was so desperate for food it instantly snatched up the scraps without pausing to think if they were poisoned or not. Nevertheless, the next time I vowed to take more caution.

Kind act or not, they were still a part of the mafia and trained killers. Not exactly the best people to trust.

Unfortunately, I’d have to grow used to these hunger pains. Maybe after a while I’d gain some immunity if I didn’t shrivel away first. Ahhh…. What a bright future, huh? If this was what I had to look forward to I might as well instigate Akutagawa into killing me. At least it would end this torture and keep my growling stomach from waking me up.

It was like my body joined the entire world in depriving me from sleep I wanted so bad. I’d have cried if I had the energy to do so.

“You look terrible.”

What? Who the heck greets someone like that? Rude. Couldn’t they just leave me to rot away in peace? At least I didn’t jump like last time. Please. My body was over that nonsense a long time ago. It was at its limit, leaving me to plainly express how miserable I felt as I pulled my head up to scowl at the voice.

A bright smile juxtaposed to everything the Mafia stood for beamed back at me almost mockingly – framed by golden locks that my poor, oily hair glared at like a jealous old lover would their ex. Her blue eyes shone with mischief common to kids, and she held a tray in her hands filled with a few colorful muffins. Was she mocking me? No. This couldn’t be real.

No. There were no kids in this dungeon. None. I was wasting my energy.

Before I could curl in tighter on myself and banish her voice and presence, another, much more chilling voice spoke up, “Elise-chan, be nice.”

I sucked in a breath so fast I’m surprised I didn’t choke. That voice. There was no mistaking it, and the identity of the girl was a slap in the face. She was no hallucination. Not at all. She was far worse than that – or rather what her presence here meant. Oh gosh. Why was he even down here? Wasn’t he too good for this place? Wouldn’t it tarnish his image? I mean he owned the Mafia, but still.

Why did Mori of all people want to be in a rotten cell with someone like me?

Jerking up, I stared in horror at the two. How? When did they even get here? I didn’t hear them at all. Maybe I really did hallucinate. Gosh. Why couldn’t it be them? Were we back to the cruel reality? Had all my luck run dry? Apparently. Why else would Port Mafia’s boss pay me a visit? I highly doubted he wanted to chat. Even then, he was in for a big disappointment.

Mori chided Elise lightly, saying something I couldn’t catch over my pounding heart. Oh gosh. What now? What could he possibly want from me? Did he know that the Agency was housing me? Was this some sort of hostage thing? Please. He couldn’t be that stupid. The Agency wouldn’t bat an eye if he said he had me…..Right?

“Fine,” Elise huffed, turning and shoving the tray of muffins into my bound hands that numbly accepted them (as if they honestly had a choice) while saying, “Here. I didn’t like any of them anyways.”

What? Why was she- Wait. I understood her. I understood everything she said. What was this? Was my internal translator finally working? Thank God. Where was it five days ago? I could’ve really used it then. Heck, maybe then this whole mess could’ve been avoided. Damn. My freaking luck.

Mori smiled and said something that went completely over my head. Scratch that. This was my freaking luck. What? How? Why? Did I get some split second trial version? Why couldn’t I understand him?

“She looks lost. I think you may have broken her, Rintarou,” Elise scolded unabashedly. What was this? Selective translating? Or…

Was it because Elise was Mori’s ability? Did that have something to do with it? But why? How? What made her Japanese different? Cause she was definitely speaking Japanese – only it was like she turned on the subtitles in my brain with each word she spoke. Gosh. Don’t tell me I’d have to stick around this manic kid to communicate. No thank you. A sketchbook is perfectly fine for me.

“You think so?” Mori suddenly leaned down inches away.

If I actually had anything in my stomach, I would’ve puked.

Notes:

Okay this week turned out way more chaotic than I could've imagined. Long story short: ton of work, car broke down and need a new one, got a job offer, been in the airport for like three days, and Bungou Mayoi finally came out in my country and I am obsessed and already have a maxed out Chuuya. So good and bad and I feel like crying but laughing and yeah.

Late and sort of short chapter. Will attempt to slap down another for next week, but not looking very promising.

Hope everyone's week is not nearly as crazy as mine. Until next time~

Chapter 11: Beyond Words

Summary:

An encounter with Mori can hardly end well, especially in the depths of Port Mafia's dungeons.

As an aspiring doctor it always excited me to meet professionals I would one day call my peers. To be able to observe and learn from them – to see their nuances and similarities while tackling a job that changed every minute and every day was far more enlightening than any textbook. Maybe that was why my university required nearly two years of practical experience in a hospital setting before giving over a diploma certifying us as intelligent enough to face the day-to-day struggles of the real world.

Since coming here, I never put much thought into that practice. Getting dumped here without much explanation kinda took most of my attention, but there were times where I’d watch Yosano help with the bruises and cuts from fellow Agency members brave enough to venture into her office and face the possibility of being cut in two. While terrifying to say the least, she cared for them deeply. It was something that travelled beyond the words I couldn’t understand. It cast her in a warm glow so rare yet so beautiful among the very few medical professionals and newbies possessed.

A light that testified their purpose; that they were born for that duty.

A light I didn’t know if I wanted to see surround Mori as he leaned inches away from me.

The leader of Port Mafia, arguably the most powerful man in the city bent on his knees in front of me. Not enough that he didn’t remain a little above me as some power play or what not. He need not bother. Please. I knew exactly who he was and how easily he could have my head in a thousand different ways. It was terrifying. No longer was there a seemingly impossible span of space to cross between us. No. There was barely room to move as I pressed so hard into the wall I’m surprised it didn’t fuse with my back.

He said something I don’t think I’d be able to decipher even in a stable state of mind, but judging by his expression changing from innocent question to a faintly demeaning smile made it seem like he knew way more than I did. No surprise. He was Mori. The guy who gave people a run for their money and outsmarted Fukuzawa and countless others – the one who taught Dazai all his tactics. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew my favorite food based off the way my toe twitched.

As unnerving as it was, something else made my stomach twist further. His smile. Or rather lack of a smile. It was like a mask – a calculated amalgamation of emotion that held no depth. A farcical.

One nearly identical to that I’d seen Dazai portray.

Those two really were alike in more ways than I wanted to know. Was it because Mori practically raised him? Or were they just that similar? No. It wasn’t possible. Dazai was not Mori. He couldn’t be. I wouldn’t accept that. Or maybe I just didn’t want to associate the man I cared for with this demon.

A demon whose touch suddenly brushed against my arm like searing iron. A short gasp tore from my throat as I jerked back. Or rather as far away as I could with my back literally against the wall. A scream fought to escape my mouth, but I choked it down. Gosh. This was horrid. And here I thought things were bad before. Why’d Mori of all people decide to give into curiosity and come here? Didn’t he have better things to do? Please, he’s the Boss of Port Mafia. Of course he has better things to do. Don’t tell me this procrastination is another thing Dazai inherited from him.

Mori said something with almost a wistful sigh. Was he upset with my reaction? Come on, it’s called instinct and will to live, not knowing how a scalpel feels when it slices your neck open.

“That’s because you’re weird too,” Elise commented. Weird too? Did he just call me weird? Talk about pot calling the kettle black.

The man pouted, probably trying to defend himself. Couldn’t he do this elsewhere? Like in his fancy office or anywhere but here?

Unfortunately the odds of him leaving were not in my favor, especially as a guttural growling noise sounded between us. Mori blinked before smirking like a parent confronting their child’s lie. He spoke in that calm manner, and from what I gathered asked if I was hungry? No. I’m stuffed full from the luxurious buffet your lackeys gave me. Of course I’m hungry – starving more like it.

“Eat some of these then,” Elise stated brightly, shoving the tray I’d thrown away only minutes earlier back into my hands. Didn’t she say they were disgusting earlier? I mean at this point food was food, but still.

“What? Do you not like sweets?” she tilted her head and puffed her cheeks as if offended by the mere idea.

Please, more like sane enough not to trust a word this diabolical kid said. Who trusts a killer – someone who very well may have poisoned these things? I wanted to give some snarky response that she’d likely understand, but at the same time I held back. What if she did understand? Or Mori gathered something from my words? He already knew way too much for comfort. Not to mention I’d rather steer clear of them as best I could from here on. One encounter with Death’s Omen was more than enough for this kid.

“Come on, just try a little,” Elise persisted, a wonderful and ironic distraction from Mori’s presence as she lifted an orange one. Heck no. What makes her think I’d give in that easily?

“Geez… You were right Rintarou. She’s a stubborn lost cause,” the blonde puffed her cheeks in annoyance. Lost cause? Sure. If it meant getting them out of my cell.

Mori seemed to agree before pointing to his mouth. Was he telling her to force feed me? Please. My stomach may be wailing for food, but no way was I eating some stupid toxic muff-

“Whatever you say,” Elise shrugged before turning to me and taking a big bite out of the muffin, saying between bites, “See? It’s good.”

What? Was she trying to reassure me it wasn’t poisoned? By eating it? Smart yet not convincing. I mean, Elise was an ability. Who’s to say she wasn’t immune to poison – that food didn’t go straight through her? No way was I falling for something so blaringly obvious. Call me paranoid or whatever, but dying a slow death via poison was not the way I wanted to go.

Elise huffed irately, “Well? Now what? Your plan didn’t work.”

See? Who’s the paranoid one now? I freaking knew they were up to something.

Mori hummed in thought before leaning over and grabbing another muffin and taking a bite out of it. Really now? He’s going through that much to get me to trust him? Why? He couldn’t honestly be worried about me. No. More like worried whatever information he thought I carried would disappear with me. Still, as tempting as it was to lurch for the food then and there, I kept my hands against my chest until seeing him chew and swallow.

“See?” he opened his mouth to show that he wasn’t just hiding mush in his cheeks, “Nothing bad. Just a muffin.”

So it would seem… Ah whatever. He didn’t die and my stomach was about to strangle me. Still, I reached hesitantly, expecting Elise to snatch them away as a cruel punishment or trade for information I couldn’t give. Surprisingly enough none of that happened and I tentatively nibbled on the rest of the muffin he chose – its faint strawberry taste like firecrackers on my tongue. Please, I wasn’t taking the risk with the others. For all I knew this was the only safe one. Hopefully this was all just in my head and he wouldn’t pull a syringe with an antidote out…. How sad would that be?

More like annoying as he smirked when I finally ate. Like he was some parent laughing at their child’s innocent stubbornness. Like he was shaking his head and proving he was right all along. It ticked me off, something I didn’t think possible with the little energy I had left. Did he really put something in these muffins? Something that restored energy? Gosh. Now I really was going crazy. A perfect match for becoming his new personal lab ra-

A bolt of pain nearly made me choke on the crumbs lingering in my mouth as he suddenly grabbed just below the cut on my arm, brushing against the injury lightly. By his expression he likely did not intend to cause harm but instead to survey the damage like anyone with a medical background. Yet all my mind screamed was danger – that the food was a simple offering, a distraction to get me to let my guard down.

One that worked perfectly to my chagrin and terror as he pulled out a small scalpel. Oh God. He was going to dissect me any second now. What an idiot! Who honestly takes food from an evil mastermind? Apparently me.

I tugged and pulled with all my strength, forcing my weight to tug against him. He gave a small frown in the only indication of disapproval, yet remained ultimately unhindered as he pulled the blade closer to my arm. I sucked in a hasty breath. Oh gosh. This was it; he was going to saw my arm off. Oh gosh. Oh gosh.

“Don’t move,” he tersely ordered in a tone that actually made me freeze in terror. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. I watched with minute breaths as the pressure of the blade rested against my arm.

I must’ve whimpered or something. I don’t know and didn’t care. All I wanted was to be away from him – anywhere but here. I don’t do pain and torture, especially the slow kind. Hell. Does any kind even matter?

Mori must’ve paused to observe my reaction. Seriously? If you’re gonna slice my arm off just save me the horror and cut it off already- Without warning he pressed down until I felt the sharp blade brush against my skin. Instinctively I went to flinch away, but he held my arm in an iron grip. How? What’s with these characters hiding such strength?

I braced for pain that didn’t come, blinking as cool air met my arm. What? I glanced down to find he’d cut my sleeve. Why? Guess it was a better approach than trying to take it off. Can’t say I wouldn’t freak out from those implications. But still. Why? It wasn’t like I held sentimental attachment to the clothing. Heck, it wouldn’t have survived much longer with all the gunk and tears. Even then, I wanted to at least try and return it to Yosano. Looks like that’s no longer happening.

When he shifted to tug at the sleeve he cut away a stinging sensation quickly built. At first it confounded me. Did he slip some shards of glass in there? Or maybe my swim gathered them up? Turns out neither. There was nothing in there but my arm – my arm that bore a wound that sealed pieces of the fabric to my skin that were now ripping as he tugged it away.

I hissed, trying and failing to grab his hand and stop him. Damn shackles barely let me separate my wrists. Still, not like I was completely helpless. Or so I thought as my efforts to tug away and kick him only backfired as it made him jerk and send bolts of agony down my arm.

“Stop struggling, you’re only making this more difficult. We’re trying to help you, so just stay still,” Elise scolded, her small hands grabbing my other arm. Brave move considering I was seconds from kicking both in the jaw. Stay still? Yeah, easier said than done when your skin is being ripped off.

By the time he peeled away the sleeve, at a torturously slow rate mind you, I was shaking and could barely breathe at a consistent rate. I thought my arm hurt before but it absolutely throbbed now, as if he set it on fire and put it out with acid. Bile rose in my throat and I felt close to puking. Perhaps giving me food before torturing me wasn’t such a bright idea. Or maybe this was his intentions all along. Weird. Thought all the torture techniques came from Dazai. Could Mori have influenced even that part of him?

He said something, and I think apologized? For what? Hurting me? Throwing me in here? Kinda late for that. I mean it is nice that he’s feigning some regret but still. Not like it patches things up per say. Was that his effort in trying, or-?

My stomach jumped to my throat as he lowered the scalpel to my injury. The skin was discolored and bore notes of green – an obvious sign of infection anyone would catch. He was probably aiming to cut it away and sterilize the region. Unfortunately lack of sleep and frayed nerves finally pushed me to my limit. The idea of pain, while never appealing, triggered something within me at that moment. Cause unlike before, I knew this was going to hurt badly.

Acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, I let all my weight tug him forward into the foot I wedged between us. His clothes were soft but felt like nails to my raw sole, yet even that faded as all I could think about was not getting skinned alive. Even if it was for my own good, the least he could do was knock me out. It wasn’t that urgent he that remove the infected skin right away. I’m sure I could last another hour or two – plenty of time to grab an anesthetic.

Elise gave a small yelp as she fell beside me. Oops. Guess she was holding onto my arm. Still, if it meant keeping Mori from doing what I thought he was going to do, she could stay down with me. Although I suppose if he wanted to Mori could just control her and have her do it for him. How freaking messed up is that?

Everything spun, and while he still held onto my arm he had to stretch to keep a feeble grip. Good, so long as he remained that far I could hope to catch my breath. Yes, I knew it was pointless to stop Mori, especially if he was set on ‘helping’ me. But you know maybe he’d give up? Realize this was more tasking than need be?

If only. Mori’s initial surprise at my unexpected burst of energy quickly morphed into that demeaning soft smile as he reached up and wrapped a hand around my ankle. With a careful motion, he pushed it leftwards, forcing me to relent unless I wanted my leg to pop out of place. Damn. This is why doctors as villains are so difficult to beat. Not only will they mess with your psyche but they know exactly how to counter everything and make your life miserable.

As he guided my foot away from his chest, he paused to narrow his eyes at the dark stain marring his grey vest. Crap. No doubt he was forming some family history and mental trauma list from that.

“Your feet are all bloody too?” Elise observed innocently, somehow squirming her way out and beside the man, “It looks like it hurts.”

No freaking duh Sherlock. Gosh. Hopefully he wouldn’t feel an increase in his unexpected goodwill and try to help me there too. No thank you. I can handle it just fine myself. Just give me some clean bandages and antibiotic and leave please.

I growled like a cornered animal, which at this point I might as well be. Hopefully the message was clear enough for him to understand. I mean, he was smart enough to tell my favorite color from a sneeze. Surely this was simple enough, right?

Mori held my gaze evenly, his eyes swimming in thoughts I didn’t want to know as he at last smiled at me and said in a sickeningly warm voice, “Do not worry. I am not going to hurt you.”

Come on. Really? Not going to hurt me? Who’d honestly believe that nonsense-?

With a precise tug, he pulled me forward and around until I was practically draped across his knee. Cold dread froze the blood in my veins at how exposed and vulnerable my arm now was to him – and it only grew worse as he called Elise to sit on my legs and keep any ideas of escape out of my mind.

Pure terror made my throat constrict as I tried in vain to thrash away. Nails tore my throat with each gasp of air and my heart pounded painfully fast. Why was he so persistent with this? Why did he care? Maybe there was something else? Please. Of course there was an ulterior motive. This was Mori. Everything he did held an underlying meaning. So what did he hope to accomplish in this? Scar me and throw me back to the Agency as a taunt?

Whatever it was, I could only close my eyes and await the agony to come. When I was younger I got stung by a jellyfish. It honestly didn’t hurt as bad as I thought. Not until the lifeguard started scrubbing away the toxins left behind with a toothbrush. The feeling of coarse hairs digging into my flesh was excruciating beyond the initial sting.

It was a pain I’d not soon forget.

One I feared would now be replaced by what came next. The cool blade pressed against my skin that burned from fear. It made me gasp and I think whimper as I grit my teeth in preparation. Preparation? As if anyone could possibly prepare themselves for getting skinned.

Mori cast a sideways glance at me, yet before I could say anything a searing pain sliced down my arm. I jerked instinctively, yet got nowhere as his arm held me still enough to continue at a rather fast pace. In hindsight he was probably trying to make this quick, but in the moment it felt like eternity.

Never had I felt so much raw pain, to the point my screams were pushed down and the mere thought of breathing was unimaginable. Everything blurred and I was surprised I didn’t puke as that small muffin lodged itself in the back of my throat. White fire lined my vision – something I thought was an exaggeration up until that point.

I could feel every motion of the scalpel – every tug and tear of my skin as he cut away the infection. Warm blood trickled down my arm and chest, staining my clothes and his pant-leg. Neither of us paid any attention as he was focused relentlessly on his task while I struggled not to pass out from the agony.

At one point desperation kicked in and I cried out weakly, “P-Please! Stop!”

His motions remained steady as if he didn’t hear me or simply ignored my cries far too late to stop anything. My vision tunneled; the light at the end filled with so much static I might as well close my eyes. Barely, I registered the tears dripping down my face as I weakly begged him to stop. At this point I didn’t care if I eventually lost my arm. Anything was better than this hell.

Any and all feeling in my fingers faded away alongside the strength to even move. I let my full weight rest on him. No. I was done. No more. I tried to endure this until Dazai came, but that wasn’t happening. Not anymore. All I wanted now was to pass out, to get some sleep that evaded me. Maybe passing out from shock was the closest I could get to that.

Yet even then, by some cruel streak of fate or whatever, I remained painfully awake. I wanted to cry but had no more tears to spend. It was horrible, beyond any torture imaginable. I can’t even begin to explain the despair and tiredness infecting my bones. Darkness slowly ate away at my vision, and all I could do was wait for it to overtake me.

In those last seconds of consciousness, I don’t remember much. All that comes back is a fleeting relief in no longer feeling that menacing blade cut into my skin, the lingering agony pulsing down my entire arm, and my chest constricting so tightly it hurt to breathe. I think I must’ve cut my wrists from pulling at the shackles because they throbbed too.

Just barely, I felt a stinging along my wound, but it was distant – laughable compared to the hell I endured. What was it? Medicine? Was he finally patching me up?

I couldn’t tell. My head was reeling and unconsciousness at last opened its arms to me. And this time I ran wholeheartedly into that welcoming abyss.

For all I cared, I could remain there until the end came for us all.

 

…

 

Darkness slowly gave way to dim light. It hardly changed the inky blackness. Indeed it was a small, weak glow that merely gave the impression of light. A dangling, fleeting hope all too fitting of the place he found himself in.

A place with no use for trivial things such as light and hope.

Dazai’s eyes peered open, tracing those familiar bloodstained floors. Each streak of red and brown painted a memory – a ghost of the form who spilt it. Faces blurred together along with echoes of screams. He heard and saw each with a striking clarity. Why not? Many of them he drew out himself. Four long years may have come and gone, but their phantoms remained unhealed and restless. Forever haunting this place beneath the ground.

Beneath the towering obsidian buildings marking the crown of Port Mafia’s empire.

Exactly where he wanted to be.

A smile carved its way onto his features – faint and barely recognizable as a smile though it may be. Pain pulsed at his gut where the young assassin struck him. Her moves were precise and well-aimed, testifying an experience quite surprising for someone her age. He did not recognize her, meaning she joined within the past four years. Such raw skill… She would certainly rise through the ranks, if she did not succumb to that underlying emptiness he sensed from her.

An emptiness he knew all too well. One he doubted she’d find an answer to within Port Mafia’s darkness. After all, despite all his efforts and those of the one she bore striking resemblance to not only in attire but ability, no light ever shone down on the group. They were creatures of the night. Hope and light simply did not exist in that world.

Although it was running rather thinly outside. Dazai’s smile wavered. Memories of consistent dead ends and cut off ropes lingered in his mind. They were torturous and sneering insults thrown at the Agency – a painful reminder of the grim reality that loomed over them constantly for the past week.

Violet was still missing.

No matter how hard they tried; how many epiphanies they came to all resulted in the same building despair and abandoned building, room, corridor… They only recently came to the grudging conclusion to put finding her on hold after jobs piled up to the point they couldn’t be ignored. Nevertheless, each spent every moment between struggling to figure out where the blonde could be.

Red-brown eyes peered into the orange glow. His original purpose here was for another, yet as he prepared this plan a budding hope planted itself in him. It was not completely out of line as many flowers bloom and flourish in darkness.

Perhaps the one he sought also possessed that unique trait.

Recollections of witness testimonies gathered too late placed Violet in Port Mafia territory a week ago. Sure, the group held no motivation to take her, but at this rate they were grasping at straws. If anything it would explain why they couldn’t find her. And yet… To end up in a place such as this… Even if she was more resilient and resourceful than they first thought, the young woman certainly would not last long in this darkness.

After all, violets were flowers of the daytime. A place like this would only serve to wither them away to nothingness.

Something he prayed had not yet occurred. A week passed, more than enough time to inflict irreversible damage. He hoped that time was not up – that the trickling sand still fell. Yet this place sneered at the idea of hope. Its very presence was scorned and ridiculed, only serving as another chain with which to bind the unfortunate here.

Nevertheless, like so many others, he held on. A piece of him mocked this lapse in judgement. But maybe, just maybe, the light that evaded so many others would at last shine in this bloodstained abyss. Maybe after countless years the phantoms would find soothing peace and light.

“Violet-chan? Are you there?” Dazai called softly, listening to his voice echo along the stone walls.

Nothing replied. Just a deafening silence screaming in a conclusion he had yet to accept. How ironic. Only a few years prior he would be the one responding in a tormenting manner – giving food to that false hope only to bring it crashing down. Now he not only called into the darkness but also found himself bound by chains.

The very ones he set up in the hellhole so many years ago.

The silence drew out, yet before he could sigh and admit another dead end, a soft jangling of chains against the stone ground nearly drowned out a quiet, raspy voice. It appeared as if the small glow at last beckoned a ray of light so blinding it appeared unreal to the man.

“Dazai…?”

He drew in a small breath, turning as much as his chains would allow to peer down the hallway on his left. Within that darkness he searched for that familiar gold, those soft olive eyes that remained clear in his memory even after more than a week of her remaining lost in the wind. He was relieved yet sickened that she ended up here of all places.

Did he know? Did he find what they found in the young woman?

It didn’t matter. He could mull about it later when they got out – if they got out.

For the time being, Dazai’s eyes swiftly scanned the inky black before landing on her face mostly obscured by bars and the darkness. The flower that he feared withered away remained resilient despite the maroon speckling her battered petals, prompting a small smile as he murmured, “Found you…”

Notes:

Survived the week. Still a bit wobbly but moving forward slowly. Thank you cassjo for the thoughts ♥

Same sort of situation with the next chapter. Can't guarantee I'll have it done by Tuesday but will try. Hopefully the cliffhanger won't drive everyone insane.

Chapter 12: Voices in the Dark

Summary:

Voices echo in the dark - one a light, whimsical breeze, another a sturdy emerald oak, and the last a gentle ripple. Whom do they belong to, I wonder?

Empty blackness stretched endlessly, engulfing everything into the void. Nothingness abounded. Time and space were but illusions. Nothing existed. Consciousness faded, disappearing into the dark never to return.

“Violet-chan?”

A voice pierced the darkness. What was it? How did it manage to break through? I didn’t want to follow it. Not when it meant returning to that hell. No. Just let me remain here. There was nothing here for me, but it was better than being in pain. Than waiting in that pit.

Yet the voice continued, not taking no for an answer, “Violet-chan? Are you there?”

Who…? That voice. I knew it. It was…

Cold ground pressed against my cheek as I willed my eyes open for the first time. Ironic given that I’d finally passed out only to struggle against it now. Yet the rising hope kept my eyelids from falling shut. Indeed, I knew that voice. It was the voice of someone I waited for. Someone who would turn things around. Someone who would be able to get us out.

Someone who had not given up on finding me.

“Dazai…?” I rasped out, crawling to the bars of my cell and straining to look down the hall.

My heart beat erratically. What if this was a hallucination? Or a trick Mori was playing? It was cruel, just what I’d expect from the Mafia. Oh gosh. Please don’t let it be that. I couldn’t take that. Not now. Not anymore. Oh please… Please…! Just this once let it be real, let him be real.

Within the light I made out a pillar and, oh my God… A tan jacket... Tears blurred the corners of my vision as I raised my head and at last met a warm, familiar gaze that nearly choked a sob out of me.

Dazai. It really was him. He was there. He came like I knew he would, yet the effect was so powerful I couldn’t help the tears spilling from my eyes as he gave a soft smile and murmured, “Found you…”

Relief washed over me in waves as I gripped the bar for whatever flimsy support they offered as I cried the remaining tears I had left. Gosh. I made it. I actually made it. After everything I survived. Sure, we still had a ways to go, but his presence was a fresh gulp of air. It was more than I could ever ask for, yet all I could do was shake and gasp silent cries.

“It’s okay, Violet-chan. It’s okay…” I heard him reassure tenderly, “Everything is going to be alright, I promise.”

His words only made me cry harder. Yes, I believed him, but I couldn’t help it. For so long I kept everything buried and blocked for the sake of survival and sanity. Now that someone else was here to take the lead, I no longer had to keep those walls up. And the moment that was clear they collapsed. I didn’t want him to hear or see me like this, but I didn’t have the strength to stop or keep myself upright as I slouched against the bars and cried softly as his warm words covered me like a blanket.

After a few more minutes of his soft murmurs and soothing voice, I blinked away the tears and at last took in the stunning white bandages lining my arm and feet. The skin around them was wiped clean – a far cry to my bloodstained shorts and one-sleeved sweater. Did Mori do this? Did he patch me up after I passed out? I suppose it’d be a waste to treat me only to let whatever diseases lingering in here to kill me off. Still, not what I was expecting.

“Violet-chan,” Dazai called softly, “Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yes,” I weakly replied, adding with a little more energy, “Don’t worry. It is not bad.”

Understatement of the year, but he had more than enough on his plate. Besides, as ominous as Mori’s weird humanitarian spark was, he knew what he was doing. If anything I held faith that his treatment was one of the best I could get in this place. Considering he didn’t poison me or something.

I could feel his doubt fill the room, yet it quickly vanished as a potent sense of urgency took its place in beat with a dull sound of footsteps echoing from above. How is that possible – to feel something like urgency? Maybe instinct? A sense of danger written within us to keep us alive? If so, thank goodness it didn’t breed out. While we no longer had to fear being eaten by wolves and mountain lions, it was not a bad thing to possess, especially when demons still roamed this world.

Case in point the black one I held a sinking feeling came our way.

“Violet-chan,” I blinked, turning from where I strained to make out the set of stairs beyond Dazai’s head that turned away from me as he instructed tersely, “Be quiet. Do not speak, understand?”

Out of instinct I nodded, a rather contradictive choice in answer. How was he going to know I knew what he was saying? I guess he simply trusted that I learned enough or gathered enough from the situation to understand. Bold move, but coming from the guy who made sure his predictions came true was reassuring enough to keep my mouth shut.

Hopefully I’d be able to keep it that way for what approached. Akutagawa may crave his approval, but that did not save Dazai from his pent up anger and abuse – both stark in his voice as he entered the pit saying something that went over my head but ended with Kyouka. Kyouka? Right. He was speaking through the phone to control Demon Snow. Almost forgot about that. Either way, it gave me some time to build up resilience for what awaited.

Good thing as, before I knew it, Dazai gave a pained grunt seconds after a harsh sound of a fist meeting skin thudded in the dim light. I only barely managed to choke down a gasp; covering my mouth and shutting my eyes to banish the image of their forms. Despite not physically seeing it in that moment, I could see the blood on the ground and Dazai’s bruised cheek. Scenes from the series flashed vividly in my mind. Its timing sucked. Sure it was cool at times, but this one was not one of them.

Fortunately Akutagawa did not hear and/or did not care about a random gasp. No. His attention was fixated on Dazai for better or worse. Can’t say I envy the guy as another sound of his fist colliding with the man echoed in the underground. While torturous to my heart and the guy’s health, things seemed to progress the way they should have and after a moment Akutagawa gave a gruff dismissal and stormed away. Guess anyone would when their mentor and idol taunts them by saying they preferred someone else and compared said person to them in a way that could only be taken wrongly.

Seriously, was Dazai trying to get beaten to death? I thought the guy abhorred pain. If anything this was more torture to my poor heart and fraying emotional state than him.

“Violet-chan?” Dazai at last spoke when Akutagawa’s steps long since left us in silence. Tentatively, I raised my head from my hands and looked over at him, finding his cheek swollen and a bruise beginning to form above his cut lip, “It’s okay now. Are you alright?”

Am I alright? Those are my words. I wasn’t the one who just got punched in the face multiple times… Am I alright? Please… As if I have the right to be worried about at this point…

“Yes. I am alright…” I murmured, hating how he smiled in relief – completely unbothered by the blood lining his bruised cheek and gaping wound in my heart.

How much longer until Chuuya came? Would I even be able to handle what he would do? If Akutagawa’s treatment left me feeling this miserable, that guy would push me over the edge. Was I alright?

Who could possibly be okay in a place like this?

“Hold on, Violet-chan. Just a little longer, okay?” Dazai comforted, but all I could do was pull my knees to my chest and bury my head in them.

For now, it was the only thing I could manage.

 

…

 

More undefined time passed, yet unlike before it was much less disorienting and unappealing as Dazai and I talked softly in the simple words he knew I understood. It was a bit challenging without my sketchbook, but we managed and I’m a bit proud of myself. I’d come a long ways since first stumbling into this world… How long ago was that? Days? Weeks? Months? I couldn’t tell, but the thought grated unwelcomingly on me.

How long was I gone from my world? Did my parents and friends know? Were they worried – trying to find me? Would I ever return?

I shook those thoughts away quickly. No. I couldn’t linger on them, not now. Not when I was threads away from snapping. When my emotional state was so frail from lack of food, sleep, and now solace from the pulsing pain in my arm and feet. Sure, the medicine knocked it down a few notches and the agony from Mori’s treatment faded, but the persistent throb was maddening and almost just as bad if not worse than the blade it came from.

Still, I was not alone in my lack of sleep and food as our small conversations and spans of ever growing silence were interrupted minutely by yawns and growling stomachs not completely my own. Dazai was chained standing up. The poor guy had it worse than me, but I suppose he was a much larger threat. Nevertheless, I gave a silent prayer he’d find some rest to prepare for our next visitor. Sure, he’d be fine, but it was the only thing I could do.

And if anything, I needed some vague sense of control to keep me going. As it was, I was running on nothing more than fumes. It wouldn’t be long until that too burned away.  Would I even make it to Chuuya’s arrival? Was he coming now, or later? Would Elise return with food? Probably not, yet if Chuuya continued to stay away I might not even make it long enough to see him. As much as my mind craved sleep, I didn’t want to miss out on seeing one of my favorite characters in the series. Although maybe it was not a bad idea considering my place and his fierce loyalty to the Mafia.

Dazai murmured something, probably along the same lines as where Chuuya was. He knew he was coming, right? Ahhh, my memory was fuzzy. All my mind could think about was food and sleep. My soft bed at home, the Agency’s oddly comfortable cots, those weird muffins I still wasn’t fully convinced were not poisoned, Yosano’s take out, Kenji’s rice balls…

A rough yet elegant, unmistakable voice echoed through the dungeon yet instead of setting me on edge like Akutagawa, it actually tore me from my daydreaming. Indeed. I knew exactly who that was, and Dazai too as he groaned in dramatic horror. Despite everything a burst of giddiness overtook me. Not exactly the best considering he held no reason not to punch me or break a bone, but can you blame me?

Chuuya was about as adored if not more liked than Dazai himself – or at least that’s my opinion.

Not to mention his arrival marked the beginning of the end of my overextended stay here. Thank goodness. What a sight for sore eyes he was.

Coming to my knees, I pressed my face into the bars to peer at the executive who began bantering with Dazai almost immediately. It took everything I had not to giggle. Pretty sure that wouldn’t end well and that Dazai’s warning before held especially now. Still, it was oddly comforting to see them exchange insults and teasing words. I didn’t understand them specifically but watched the scene enough times to know exactly what they were saying.

I must’ve been so caught up in those memories and lingering feelings I associated with them that I forgot this was no longer a show but my new reality – something that became stark clear as a thundering noise shook the entire place. I jumped. Right. Gravity manipulation. How could I forget.

Be that as it may, the rush of air was clear from my distance and shattered my light memories. Sure the ending was clear, but the impact of Chuuya’s kick – the crushing reality that it broke chains came chillingly. This man’s strength was no joke. Even without his ability he was the strongest in the Mafia. Someone who Dazai was egging on and about to face whether he was ready or not.

Someone I’d now have to watch fight his ex-partner and man he swore to kill one day.

Tension slowly built in my body, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away as Dazai snapped his fingers and the shackles binding his hands fell away. Dang. The moment we got out I was definitely making him teach me that trick. Sure, it may not help in situations like this but at least I’d have more of a chance to sleep. Not to mention save my poor, bloodied writs from this pain in the future.

Still, we had quite a ways til then, and as usual reality proved much stronger and more potent than reading or watching from the safety of an entirely different dimension. Case in point: Chuuya’s swift attack that sent their forms darting in and out of my line of sight only to end directly in it with the shorter man punched in the gut by Dazai.

I don’t know why, maybe it was shock or raw nerves, but I gasped. I knew it didn’t hurt Chuuya, but it sounded like it did. The guy must have rock hard abs or something. Either way, it didn’t faze him. Something I knew all too well as he countered with a kick that sent Dazai flying.

Once more a gasp tore from my throat. Crap. Silence. Doing a rotten job at that now. Luckily they didn’t appear to hear me, but who knows how long that luck will hold. Especially as Chuuya began pummeling Dazai with countless blows that hurt me to hear. Gosh. Didn’t he only hit him like twice? This was relentless and far more than I remembered…

Wait… Did something change? Oh God. Did my presence alter this? Was Chuuya going to actually kill him here? No. Why? Did Mori order him to? Why? What good would that possibly do?

With each successive blow and grunt from Dazai, my stress levels grew until finally breaking in beat with a loud crash of the man colliding with a wall in a way that you knew he broke something. My heart couldn’t take this, and before I could stop myself I yelled, “Stop Chuuya!”

Instead of putting an end to the madness, my words only threw oil onto the fire. Crap. I said Chuuya didn’t I? Crap. I wasn’t supposed to know his name, not to mention breaking Dazai’s order. Oh crap.

“Oh?” Chuuya mulled, his form obscured by a wall where he and Dazai disappeared behind seconds earlier. It sounded like he said something along the lines of, “Someone else is here?” Either way, I grabbed his attention. If my presence didn’t affect things before, it was going to now.

Faintly I heard Dazai attempt to distract him. As touching as it was that he was trying to resume a role as the guy’s personal punching bag, it didn’t stop the man’s rather cocky reply and footsteps that approached dangerously. Crap. I unconsciously scooted back. This wasn’t good. Dazai may be able to predict his moves and whatnot, but I could barely do that with the ability to stand on my own two legs – something I couldn’t even manage now.

I always imagined feeling excited whenever I would meet Chuuya in my daydreams. I thought we’d exchange light banter void of death threats and perhaps share a bottle of wine. Who knew it’d turn out like this – in Port Mafia’s dungeon with his form coming into view; eyes gleaming predatorily as they stared down at me?

My stomach dropped as he smirked, “And who are you? A companion of Dazai’s?”

If I said no, do you think he wouldn’t grind me into dust? No? Well, worth the thought-

Without warning he snatched the chain binding my wrists and tugged it ferociously, forcing me to my feet and practically through the iron bars. Tears instantly stung my eyes from raw fear and my aching feet at his callous treatment. So much for peaceful afternoon or evening wine tasting. What did I honestly expect? This guy was a trained killer – and executive and second in command of Port Mafia. He wasn’t an angel or saint. Far from it. Sadly it only came to me now how crushing that reality was.

Grimacing, I tried my best not to whimper as he leaned forward so that his hot breath brushed against my cheek, “Answer me. Who are you? And why do you know my name?”

Notes:

Okay late chapter but I survived somehow and stayed up later than I probably should and am running off of I don't know how many minutes of sleep but yay chapter update and thank you all for the kind thoughts ♥

Will aim to be on time for the next chapter c:

Chapter 13: Obscurus Resilire

Summary:

Some things are better left hidden, yet the truth regardless finds a way to shed its light.

Contrary to popular belief, Dazai’s predictions were not always correct. Of course anyone with a sense of logic understood this, yet the appeal in pulling those who naively trusted his words was too good to pass up – especially when a certain mafioso was involved. He supposed Chuuya did come into his world after he refined his skills in manipulating events to where his predictions came true. Even then, the road to that was long and full of painful lessons he rather leave in the blurred recesses of his memory than dig up. Nevertheless, they came back with striking clarity now along with the simple truth.

His plan, while not painstakingly meditated on like previous ones, appeared to veer dangerously away from its intended course. Normally he would shrug and roll with the blows, no pun intended given Chuuya’s oppressive ones that sent stars in his vision, but this time something was different. Namely a certain flower whose petals already bore signs of withering and now were dangerously close to being plucked altogether.

While he may have considered this possibility, nothing could prevent the surge of adrenaline and sapping wind that stole some of his breath as he watched Chuuya snag a chain from the dark cell in the hall across from him, nor the pained yelp as the figure bound by it stumbled into the bars. Very rarely had he come to regret his choice in action, yet now he felt those toxic claws scrape down his sides and stain them like the blossoming red beneath Violet’s feet. His plan was still intact, however….

Maybe he should have focused on escaping with the young woman instead of pestering Chuuya.

“Answer me. Who are you? And why do you know my name?” the executive growled in a voice intending to drive fear into the blonde – a rather simple interrogation tactic he picked up and stuck with despite Dazai’s unbridled scorn and ridicule of the thoughtless method.

A surge of protectiveness pulled Dazai to his feet, ready to pull the smaller man away if need be, but he hesitated. A moment of selfishness – of curiosity held him back at her expense. Why did she know Chuuya? Or at least speak his name with such familiarity despite the man not knowing her? Was it because of her supposed ability?

Dazai frowned as a memory bubbled up. It was one of the first ones he held of the blonde – the one in which she drew something. A certain object he faintly suspected yet now saw chilling clarity in it.

The wine bottle. The one she drew. Could it be that she was referring to Chuuya at that time? Did she want them to bring her to him? Why? What connection did these two share? His eyes narrowed. Could she be another one like him?

Either way, he feared whatever they shared in the past it would do her no good in preventing him from grinding her into dust and scattering her petals to the wind as he roughly tugged on the chains that bound her once more.

 

…

 

Stabbing pain assaulted my wrists and feet as Chuuya yanked me forward to the point the bars pushed into my cheek. After resting for a while, I managed to gather a faint sense of ease – one easily shattered by his callous actions. Everything once more burned with pain, and I think the cuts and blisters on my feet reopened. Hopefully Mori wouldn’t be too upset and punish him for it… I say as if I could actually afford to worry about him.

He pulled my arms until they were sandwiched between two bars and my wrists brushed his shoulder. Whatever clots managed to form on my arm tore away with burning pain that pulled tears from my eyes as I yelped instinctively. It hurt. And for a moment the pain surprised me. I guess it never fully set in until that moment Chuuya was not the good person I daydreamed about in my world. No. He was a ruthless mafioso. Someone who killed people who went against the Mafia – people I sickeningly realized I stumbled into their den.

Still… He didn’t immediately crush me under his ability, so there was some leniency. Not that I wanted to test that particularly short fuse already half burned from Dazai’s antics. Speaking of, where was he? I couldn’t see past Chuuya, but hoped Dazai was at least somewhat concerned or prepared for this situation. Hopefully he had a plan, cause I sure didn’t.

“Well? Not talking?” his breath washed over my face. Notes of alcohol and smoke lingered in my nose, saying a lot about how he prepared for this encounter to go. Guess it didn’t surprise. Well, the wine. I always suspected Chuuya to smoke like most of the people in Port Mafia as their jobs were hella stressful, but smelling the faint scent was still eye-opening.

Be that as it may…. Should I go out and reply – in English? He’d probably understand, and yet… I hesitated, instincts screaming it was a bad idea for my safety and survival. Right. Cause even after everything Chuuya was still an executive, someone who would report to Mori. Ugh. Yeah. No. As tempting as it was to finally speak with someone, to hold a more in depth conversation than what I liked and how I was,  I didn’t want Mori knowing more than he already did. Whelp. Guess we’re going the hard way then. Hopefully he won’t grind me into dust when this is over.

Mustering all my will, I looked up into his eyes. They were truly beautiful. Stunning sapphire too bright for a place like the Mafia. How did he end up in a place like this? I know there were talks about an upcoming light novel detailing his and Dazai’s first meeting, but sadly it never got out in time for me to read. Maybe if I ever returned I’d find it and finally learn what motivated Chuuya to remain painstakingly loyal to the group.

Hopefully that day would come, yet the hesitation in his expression upon staring back at me brought some potential in that notion. It didn’t occur to me until a few seconds later how we must appear: staring into each other’s eyes intently. Why wasn’t Dazai saying anything? Did he think we held some past? I suppose it’s not totally out of place considering I knew-but-shouldn’t-know his name. Unfortunately, that did nothing to stop my cheeks from burning as I started to squirm uneasily in his grip – pain in my feet and arm growing a tad fainter.

He leaned forward an inch, making this already mortifying situation ten times worse. Gosh. Was he going to kiss me? No. Head out of the gutter Violet. That only happens in poorly written fanfics. Although- No. No. No. No. Focus girl. Don’t lose sight of the dangerous killer under some stupid naïve crush.

“You…” I flinched as if he splashed cold water on my melting face, his own bearing a disquieting frown.

Have you ever jumped from a hot tub to a cold swimming pool? Don’t do it. Forget the assault on your nerves, it can send you into shock. Not exactly the best thing when you’re sinking underwater. Nevertheless, that rude switch from hot to cold that knocks your breath away for seemingly ever met me in that moment as his fingers brushed along my bandaged arm. It was faint – like a feather. Yet the trauma Mori left me with made it feel like he pulled out his dagger and was about to resume what his boss started, only in a much less medically inclined way.

“S-Stop!” my voice hitched from the rush of nerves and tension reawakened from his almost innocent motion. I tugged at his grip, managing a few inches before he held firm. Oh gosh. Here we go again. Back to that pain. Back to that hellhole. Oh gosh. I didn’t want to go back. Please no. Please…!

I felt panicked tears sting at my eyes as I closed them in a last ditch effort to calm my racing heartbeat. This was the home stretch. All I needed to do was make it past this. Then Dazai would get us out. Just a bit further… If only it wasn’t a mountain taller than Everest to climb.

A mountain that suddenly turned out to be much smaller than I thought as Chuuya refrained from moving long enough to muster some courage to peer open an eye at him. He was frowning, only this time his eyes were fixated on the bandage covering my arm – its pristine white fabric gaining specks of red from his rough actions. What was it? Was he surprised? Come on. He had to know he was a freaking monster in terms of strength. Or could it be something else?

Did Mori tell him something? Or was he questioning his actions? Did anyone even know the Boss came down here?

Dazai’s words, like usual, cut between us and the tense silence. And for once I appreciated it more than he could possibly imagine. I don’t know what he said but I’m thinking it was an insult stinging enough to tug Chuuya’s attention back to him as he suddenly let go of my chain and spun around to curse at the bandaged man.

All my energy must’ve left with him as I fell to the ground, barely managing to lean rightwards and spare my arm some of the impact. Unfortunately it did nothing to hold back the wall of pain that shattered the second I landed. It consumed everything and I felt the small amount of bile left in my stomach rise dangerously. I don’t know if this veer from the storyline affected much, but hopefully it didn’t. Static filled my eyes even when they closed and my head spun as if he dropped me into a whirlpool. Guess I finally breached my limit. Surprising since I never thought I’d last nearly this long. Yet another wonder of the human body and desperation.

Bellows of laughter echoed through layers of cotton. Was that Dazai? Why was he laughing again? Because of Chuuya’s act? I hoped so. That I knew meant this nightmare was in its final ascent. Good. Hopefully Dazai wouldn’t mind carrying me out cause at this point sitting up straight was questionable.

A clanging sound echoed in the quiet that followed their faint bickering, and I blinked away the static to find Dazai’s form kneel before me. Carefully, he took my bound hands in his and with that growingly admirable skill freed them from the cold shackles that left behind bloodied marks as testimony of their presence. It hurt, yet at this point I was so tired and drained and in pain it barely registered. Heck, not much else did. Not even the fact I was finally getting out. Maybe that was why. Maybe realizing that I made it triggered something in my mind that said it was finally okay to shut off.

Sounds good… I made it this far. Dazai could take it from here…

Before I could pass out, he held onto my shoulders and pushed me up in a manner that said it was not yet time to clock out. Shame. Guess I had a few fumes left to run on…

“It hurts…” I murmured weakly, leaning into his stronger arms and adding to the burden of his bruised and beaten form selfishly, “I’m tired.” Yeah. And I’m sure he is too. Heck. We were both hurting. Get it together Violet. Don’t shove everything onto him. Get a grip girl. Just a bit longer. Come on…

To my faint surprise, he tugged me into a consuming embrace that nearly made me pass out alongside his soothing voice, “I know. I’m sorry, Violet-chan. Just a little longer, okay? Just a little longer.”

Right. Gotta find out about the Guild. A weary sigh left me like a weight as he pulled back and gave a small smile. His hand brushed against my cheek, making me wince despite knowing it was meant to comfort me as he asked, “Can you walk?”

I nodded, finding my throat painfully dry and not wanting to induce a coughing fit that would literally send me to my knees. This was going to be interesting. I could barely stand, let alone walk on my feet. Hopefully this information room wasn’t miles away. That and no one noticed the blood trail I would literally leave behind.

Thankfully it was obvious enough that Dazai probably held a plan. Or at least that’s what I gathered from the glint in his eyes when he offered a hand and pulled me up. Instantly pain shot up my spine and I grimaced. Instinctively I clung onto him for support. My head spun and it was all I could do to not collapse and focus on breathing steadily. I needed to control this or someone would suspect us and the storyline might be changed. Sure, Dazai might like dying, but I refused to let him go just then. Not when we needed him so badly.

When the mere thought of losing him made my heart twist even though I’m pretty sure that is how his story will inevitably end.

Feeling his frown, I weakly pushed off him and smiled in a pathetic attempt to mimic his mask, “I-I’m okay. Let’s g-go.”

I had no idea what he thought as I forced my limps into as steady as a walk I could manage. Each step felt like I was walking on glass and I prayed the blood dampening the bottoms of my feet was not enough to leave a red trail. Fortunately Dazai still knew his way around and by the time I limped up the stairs with his merciful hand I think I may have cracked a few bones in my grip, he pulled us into what looked like a locker room.

Common social sense of being in a male locker room failed to register. Please. After everything I was far too tired to care or even think about being embarrassed. Instead, I plopped down on the nearest bench as Dazai quietly told me to wait here while he rummaged about. Okay. No problem there. I was more than happy to catch my breath and wipe away the sweat from my forehead.

“Here,” he spoke much sooner than I thought in beat with a black coat draping across my shoulders. Right. Missing a sleeve and bloodstained clothes. Guess that would be a bit of a head turner…

A light touch wrapped around my ankle, guiding it up and into a warm boot slightly too big – something I think he knew as he murmured something. When the smooth leather brushed against my bandages I winced. It took everything in me not to jerk away as he carefully maneuvered my legs to fit inside as easily and painlessly as possible. It was actually kind of touching having him put my shoes on. And very self-conscious as his position kneeling before me made me feel super weird – the action of my nails digging into his shoulder to balance myself only making my cheeks warmer.

Thankfully though, it was probably all exhaustion and hallucination. Easy enough to push away as he finished and pulled me up once more. My feet still hurt but at least the shoes helped dull the stinging a little. Maybe now I had a chance of actually making it. Hopefully the guy who he took this from wouldn’t miss his boots or coat. I’d try to get them back, but no promises.

“Ready?” Dazai asked as he stood up, pushing a pair of sunglasses on his face. That’s it. Just sunglasses. The infamous demon prodigy who can predict you spitting a year from now wore sunglasses as a disguise and nothing else. Who was this guy?

Not having much of a choice, I nodded, and took his hand – letting him lead us out and down countless hallways that looked exactly the same to me. Not that I was trying to map out the place. Please. This was fun and all but I really didn’t want to ever come back here. No thank you. Port Mafia is cool at a distance.

I kept my head down, letting Dazai do the small talk to whoever passed us in the halls. It felt like we’d been walking forever – probably because it had been a while since I moved more than a few feet and ate a decent meal. My lungs and throat burned like I ran a marathon. Dang. I’d have to work out after I slept for three days. Considering Yosano and the others actually let me outside this time.

I must’ve been really consumed in my thoughts as I nearly collided with Dazai as he came to a stop in the middle of an intersection of hallways. What was it? Did he forget something? I frowned, looking up at his frown in the direction of the hall to our left. I peered down it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Was it some special place? Did he remember something? Or… I strained my eyes to look further, finding a red sign at the end. Red? Was that the exit?

Was he thinking about leaving? No. As much as I wanted to sprint in that direction, we weren’t quite done yet. Surely he knew this. Was he considering forgoing the mission to get me out? As touching as that was, I couldn’t let him miss out on information that may end up saving them all later on. My entire being killed, but I could last a few minutes longer.

“Dazai…” I rasped, squeezing his hand to gather his attention, “Are you okay?”

He blinked as if remembering that I could communicate albeit limitedly but smiled and nodded. It was far from reassuring, yet how could I tell him to keep going? Argh. I’d come far but these moments made my lack of knowledge blaringly plain. What I wouldn’t give for subtitles to pop up now… What could I say to show him I wanted to continue? Guild? Let’s go? Or…

“Atsushi,” I said tersely, pointing down the hallway we were in. Hopefully that was the right direction and he knew what I meant. I mean, he was smart enough, right?

Dazai blinked in surprise before chuckling and ruffling my hair. It was not completely unpleasant and given the state my hair was probably in not at all damaging, yet the teasing behind it made me puff my cheeks in the only show of irritation I could think of as he continued forward once more, “Sorry Violet-chan. Just a little more, okay?”

Yeah, yeah. Just get this over with. The sooner we’re out the better. And by better I mean able to collapse into a coma and turn the AC on full blast as I felt like we were walking in the burning sun. Damn… Maybe Mori’s effort, while somewhat well intentioned (I think?), was too little too late.

Either way, we could cross that bridge when it came. As for now I held onto Dazai’s hand as a lifeline keeping me from succumbing to the darkness lining my vision as we continued down the endless corridors.

 

…

 

Light tapping of fingers meeting a keyboard echoed in the darkness cut by artificial light. The coolness, while similar to the underground, was much more soothing. Perhaps because of the blue hue that inspired some solace instead of the bloody red? Or maybe simply the atmosphere change. Either way, Dazai did not allow himself the luxury of relaxing just yet. After all they were still in Port Mafia’s headquarters.

Until they got out, he would remain on guard. He of all people knew how misleading the place could be. Not to mention the all-seeing eyes above.

Dazai cast a sideways glance at the camera he knew hid behind the top shelf of the bookcase. Was he watching them? Did he know of their escape? Did he plan for this? Obviously. Nothing ever got past that man.

Heaving a sigh, the man redirected his attention back to the bar in the center of the screen, watching as it steadily filled with a blue color. Just a few more seconds and the download would complete. His mission would be over and they could finally get out of here. Ah. Maybe when he returned he’d open up that particularly large bottle of sake he bought the other day… It seemed worth the effort he made.

Although, maybe he would have to make a stop before then.

Glancing back, Dazai frowned at the form leaning against the wall beside the doorway. Smoother breaths left her form as Violet stared into space. She looked ready to pass out yet maintained that impressive resistance that slowly grew on him. At least he knew she wasn’t easily deterred. Still… Did she know her own limits? And if so, was she willing to accept them and stand down when she reached them? Or was she the type to recklessly push past them?

He made mental note to find out later alongside the plethora of questions bogging his mind since discovering her presence here. Like how she knew Chuuya. How she ended up here. How she knew about the Azure Messenger. If she was an ability user with the power of prophecy – something detrimental if that man found out and decided to reap the substantial advantage – or just that observant. Most of all: the chilling familiarity in which her arm and feet were wrapped.

Did he come to the same conclusion as them – was that why he kept her alive and bandaged her wounds?

They were but a few of many questions plaguing his mind, especially after learning the identity of the bounty funders. A notorious and otherwise nonexistent group as far as most of the world knew. They were rumored to rival the Mafia in power, and by the amount certainly rivaled if not surpassed them in funds. While money didn’t win everything, it certainly helped.

And it made the Guild much more formidable than any random entrepreneur out for Atsushi’s head.

The dinging sound of his download completing tugged Dazai back to reality. With a small smirk, he closed the windows and retrieved his flash-drive, making sure to erase any blaring evidence of his presence on the computer and what he retrieved. Sure, it was a bit useless considering the surveillance camera, but at least it’d buy them some time. Time that would prove the difference between winning and losing in their next encounter should what he predicted would happen come to pass.

After all, the Guild wagered a large sum and risked exposing themselves to the world to capture Atsushi. No way would they just turn and walk away after failing to get what they wanted so badly. Still. Why? What did Atsushi possess or held the means to possess that permitted such a gambit?

Hopefully the files would provide some insight. Information he was more than happy to review in his own room as Dazai pulled the flash-drive into his pocket and turned to the door. Stopping just to the left of it, he gazed down at the blonde who blankly lifted her eyes to stare at him as if asking if he got what he came here for. Did she know about this as well? Was that why she was here?

Dazai sighed. He’d dig for answers later. It was the least he could do for the poor girl whom he swept into his arms, noting her small gasp of surprise as he stood up. She managed to get this far, he could handle the rest from here. Her surprise quickly melted away as she shifted and leaned into his chest in an act of complete trust. Why? He frowned. Why was she so willing to trust him – after everything he and the Agency put her through?

It didn’t make sense, and the familiarity in her actions made him frown. Sure, Chuuya was one thing, but he knew he never met her before. So why?

Why did she seem to know him?

Notes:

Okay late chapter but progress in that I've planned out the next 10, so should be back to a regular upload schedule.

Don't really know why I titled this one Obscurus Resilire (my weak Latin translates it to Unknown Recoil? Guess it's in terms of Dazai and Chuuya's little surprise but that's all I got.

Chapter 14: Too Little Too Late

Summary:

Recovery is a long road that begins with a single momentous step.

Brilliant sunlight cast shining ripples on smooth white marble. Soft waves lapped at an isolated shore, creating a soothing melody for the singing birds fluttering in the air above. Solace and peace filled outlook admiring cerulean waters far too clear and blue to be real. Indeed, the entire area with its pristine stone white buildings felt too much like paradise to possibly exist.

Yet why did it feel faintly familiar?

A blurred darkness consumed the warm paradise, giving no answer or promise of one in the future. Eventually the scene faded. And like its residents, it disappeared into nothingness – a simple, confounding dream whose details were obscured enough to evade persistent reflection yet vivid enough to linger on in the waking world.

Dreams sure are strange. I heard somewhere that they come from a collection of memories that day – a sort of weird mental recap of events. How my mind related that warm coastal town to the hell I experienced was beyond me. Maybe something about bloodstained brick walls resonated with some distant memory of cutting my knee at the beach. Who knew?

Everything felt heavy and sluggish. If you’ve ever been in surgery or under anesthesia you know what I’m talking about. For those that don’t it’s like waking up to an alarm after not nearly enough sleep. Only the feeling doesn’t go away. Instead it persists and grows ever more disorienting as you realize the place you’re in now is not the same as the last one you recall passing out in.

A somewhat musty smell greeted me. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, just different and not the sterile air of the infirmary I grew used to. Where was this? I remembered making it to that computer room with Dazai, but that’s about it. Did he make a pit stop on the way back to the Agency? Guess he must’ve thought I was okay. The guy must have a twisted definition of that word.

Grogginess lingered but did nothing to dull the sapping pain in my arm and feet. It felt like they were going to fall off and I almost wished they would. At least then this maddening pain would stop. Heck, Yosano could probably bring them back, so go for it.

Tatami mats and a simple room blurred in and out of focus. Just the action of turning my head made me dizzy. Right. Hadn’t eaten more than a few scraps in days. Probably should work on fixing that. Not to mention getting a glass of water for my sandpaper throat.... Considering I could stumble to the kitchen or a sink without passing out. Where was Dazai?

I pushed up, sparking a stinging pain down my left side – one that was sadly familiar now as I glanced at the slightly off-red bandages wrapped around my arm.  All that running around certainly didn’t help Mori’s efforts, nor Dazai’s as I assume he was the one who changed them. They needed another swap soon before they got worse. Medicine or not, it would definitely get infected with all that gunk around it. And if that was how my arm looked, I hated to see the state of my feet.

It probably was no better than the bloodied, torn sweater folded neatly in an attempt to salvage some of its dignity beside my pillow. Ahhh…. So much for returning it in one piece. It was better off in the trash at this point. It didn’t seem too important to Yosano but still… I didn’t want this already horrid situation to get any worse. I could already tell our reunion was going to be super awkward.

And right before Fitzgerald showed his face… Ahhhh. This sucked. Maybe staying here in bed was the best thing to do. After all, Dazai seemed to want a break as well. Wherever the heck he was. I mean, I did recall him lounging in his room after breaking out in the series…. Or at least I think so. Crap, hopefully I’d get out soon before things started to blur. While I couldn’t totally capitalize on it, this foreknowledge really helped. So long as I could remember it.

Still, even that particularly worrisome thought faded. Why? Because this was probably Dazai’s apartment. A place people in my world drooled to see. A place theorized and fanaticized over and over. A place I now found myself within. Shame my burning throat had to cut the mood with a series of barely audible coughs. Guess I should rehydrate before exploring and committing every detail to memory.

Pulling away from the futon was difficult like any winter morning where the warmth of your cocoon easily out matches the frigid outside air. Wasn’t it summer? Why was his place so cold? Do apartments here have AC? Thought that was only a southern thing.

I snagged the comforter and wrapped it around me, saving some warmth as I stumbled forward. Geez, my feet throbbed. I thought sleep was supposed to make things better. If anything I felt ten times worse. Probably needed more sleep and food. Yeah, that sounds good. Take it easy. God knows after everything I deserved it.

Sliding open the door, a quaint, slightly messy living area attached to a small kitchen greeted me. It was comfy and casual, practically radiating its owner’s calmness. A sanctuary from the outside world. Surprisingly enough I didn’t feel as excited as I thought. Maybe sleep deprivation? I didn’t know and didn’t really feel like finding out. Just get water. Water and sleep...

“Ah, Violet-chan. Good morning,” a voice greeted softly; drawing my attention to where the bandaged man lounged beneath the kotatsu in the center of the room with his laptop opened away from me. How did I miss him?

“How are you feeling?” Dazai’s warm voice asked, sounding like he was miles away.

What was it? How was I feeling? There’s a word. But what was it again? It was on the tip of my tongue… Ah. I couldn’t remember. But how was I going to respond? How could I express this feeling? What was I feeling? Tired? Sore? Weak? Okay?

I shrugged, the only thing my mind came to before rasping out in a voice that nearly made me start coughing, “Water.”

Have you ever tried to stifle a cough? Maybe not to stand out? Or perhaps to save a friend from waking up, or not be quarantined? It’s freaking hard, like trying to suppress a natural reaction. It took everything I had, and tears lined my eyes. I don’t know why I bothered as the face I must’ve made was clear enough, especially for someone as observant as Dazai. Crap. He was frowning; he probably already knew how much pain I was in. So much for keeping up a mask… Was that what I was trying to do?

“Here,” Dazai offered a glass, suddenly right in front of me. Whoa. When did he get so close? I must’ve spaced out….

I took it with shaking hands, something that must’ve bothered him as he asked with a tad less warmth, “Do you feel alright, Violet-chan?”

Yeah, yeah. Just sleepy and hot. Did he only have one heater in this place? Turned all the way up to make the living area a sauna? Weird. Dazai was weird.

Pulling the cup closer tugged the forming scabs on my arms and feet. Ouch. Even loopy that pain was rude. I noticed Dazai shift, but really didn’t pay much attention. I finally had water – clean, cool water. After days with only murky water that was questionable at best, the clarity of the liquid cooling my hands nearly made me cry. Sleep deprivation does knock down one’s emotional stability, so no surprise. Although I was faintly curious as I didn’t feel the slightest urge to eat. Weird. Thought my stomach would object a little more…

Dazai said something and I felt him brush my injured arm lightly with his fingertips. Odd that I didn’t flinch away. Not that I forgot Mori’s treatment or anything. Just that…I didn’t really have the energy to do so. Why? Maybe because I trusted him more? Or that the water was too good of a distraction? I didn’t know. Everything was getting blurry and hot.

He said something else and I thought I heard Yosano’s name. Were we going back to the Agency now? Dang. So much for checking out his place… Why couldn’t we just stay here? It was nice and comfy and a little warm but nice…

Something fell to the floor with a sharp crash, dampening my feet and sending small bursts of pain along my legs. It took a second to realize why: I dropped the glass. What? How? Did I forget I was holding it? I blinked. Everything felt foggy. Even Dazai who tensed and wrapped a hand around my uninjured arm to say something urgently seemed distant. Why? What was he afraid of? Water?

Dazai’s features were contorted in…urgency? Worry? Why? What bothered him? Everything was fine. Unless… Was that cup special to him? Crap…

“Sorry…” I apologized weakly. Not that I didn’t mean it, only that a wave of weariness completely overwhelmed me. My legs felt numb and the room swayed. Or maybe that was me.

“Violet-chan!” Dazai gasped seconds before I felt his chest collide with my cheek. He felt so cool. How? It was so hot in here… It didn’t make sense… Yet all that faded as I listened to his heartbeat. Was it normally this fast?

I couldn’t tell. Everything began to grow laced with a thin layer of pain. The light hurt my eyes so I closed them, letting my weight press further into him. He felt so nice, so comforting. Like a pillow or cloud… Wait, clouds were wet. Dazai wasn’t wet though, right? But I felt something damp against my skin… Was he sweating? Or was I?

Something cool brushed against my forehead. It felt amazing and I instinctively pressed into it. Whatever it was, I must’ve startled it as it flinched away. Why? Don’t leave. Come back…

All-consuming blackness devoured the soft glow behind my eyelids. Was I falling asleep again? Good. After all those teases in that cell it was a sight for sore eyes or, er, closed ones. Something vibrated against my side and a faint breeze tickled my legs as they began to float when a pressure built just below my thighs and shoulder. Weird. Was I floating now? How? Was Chuuya here? When did he get here? Why weren’t he and Dazai bickering?

It didn’t matter. I couldn’t really hear them anyways. Just some murmurs as if they were underwater. Or was I? I couldn’t tell. And I didn’t much care. Not when that darkness crept forward and offered a hand so inviting I couldn’t possibly deny it.

 

…

 

Victory often came with feelings of satisfaction and elation. Why not? They meant you won – that you overcame something and stood on top. Especially in terms of hard-won victories, the feelings of gratification only multiplied ten times over. After everything, after all that struggling, you finally reach the point where you are able to look back and see all that pain was worth it. That you finally made it. That it was at last over.

He won, that much was certain, so why did he feel so heavy?

Atsushi clenched his hands together to the point he nearly drew blood. His head bowed from where he sat between two beds. On one: Kyouka, still sleeping from their miraculous escape. She’d woken up a few times before, but drifted back into deep sleep. He didn’t worry. After everything they went through, battling Akutagawa and escaping by the skin of their teeth, he didn’t blame her.

If only he could bask in that luxury with her.

Lifting his all too heavy head, Atsushi turned to the other bed where Dazai, Fukuzawa, and Yosano stood beside in hushed murmurs – their forms partially blocking the occupant from the sea of concerned eyes peering from his side of the room. They should be celebrating – glad that they finally found her. That she was alive. That she was no longer lost. And yet the labored breathing made him resent his fine-tuned hearing and deftly sobered any and all good feelings they could hope to harbor.

Violet was back, but for how long?

Atsushi grimaced, feeling his throat constrict as he recalled waking up in the infirmary and speaking with Yosano and Kunikida about what took place only to be interrupted by a sudden disturbance in the office. A sharp, urgent yell that chilled his blood only more so as he recognized its source – one whose typical clownish tone vanished in an almost foreign seriousness. To his knowledge, nothing ever alarmed Dazai. So hearing the man call for the doctor in a faint semblance of panic was like taking a shot of pure adrenaline.

They wasted no time in rushing toward his voice, ready to fight and defend whatever unnerved him. However, they were painfully unprepared for the sight of the unconscious woman in his hands – her face scrunched in obvious pain and blood dripping from her elbow, staining the light-blue blanket wrapped around her loosely. Their scents were tainted with a sour one that still lingered in his nose.

Dazai managed to find Violet like he knew he would, only a sickening despair filled everyone watching as Dazai urgently followed Yosano to the infirmary, relaying what happened – that the woman suddenly fainted and was feverish and something about the Mafia and a wound and… Atsushi grimaced, squeezing his hands tighter. His fingernails digging into his palms were a distant feeling that tried to keep him anchored here in reality. Unfortunately, the cold truth haunted him like many of the others.

The wounds she bore – the weak, labored breathing caused by who knows what –fell heavily on their hearts. Because while they may not have created them, they did nothing to save her from that pain. If anything, their actions pushed her into that danger – the very thing now threatening her life.

All because of a misunderstanding that now felt painfully obvious and oppressive.

“She was treated by Port Mafia’s Boss?” Yosano’s slightly surprised question drifted into his ears.

Port Mafia’s Boss? It felt odd that he would do something like that, let alone be able to heal. The mere idea that anyone in that organization could do anything but hurt and kill rubbed wrongly against the teen and maybe the doctor whose frown was clear even if she had her back turned to them.

“No one there would do something so bold without his permission. Besides, I recognized the work,” Dazai said as if he tasted something nasty.

“Why? What purpose did he have in helping a prisoner?” Fukuzawa inquired.

“Perhaps he came to the same conclusion as we did,” Dazai answered ominously, creating an apprehension that drifted from them to the others like a dark cloud.

Atsushi fought not to stiffen and give away the fact he was eavesdropping on their hushed conversation. Did the Mafia believe Violet was an ability user – that she could see into the future? It explained why their boss was willing to help her. A shiver at the thought of that dark organization holding such a power traced down his spine. There was no way anyone would be able to stand against them, and given their ruthless interrogation tactics, Violet would…

The teen clamped his eyes shut. God… What did they do? While they saved her from that horrid future, could they possibly keep her from it? If the Port Mafia attacked, aiming for her, would they be able to keep her safe? He wanted to say yes, but his aching muscles and wounds freshly healed by the doctor threw doubt into that conviction.

Did they just swap him with her as the terrifying group’s target?

“Either way,” Yosano started, breaking the heavy silence that threatened to consume them, “It won’t matter if she doesn’t pull through.” Her words were like a splash of icy water to his face and Atsushi failed to keep from tensing – action bringing concerned frowns from Kunikida and the others beside him.

He struggled to regain composure but his heart beat faster as Yosano continued darkly, “I reapplied some of the antibiotics on her feet and arm, but they appear to be infected. I’m guessing they were already in that state when that man treated her. It would explain why the skin around her arm has been cut away. Unfortunately, it might have been too little too late.”

“N-No!” Before he could stop himself, Atsushi rose and pinned the trio with a desperate look, his actions making the other bystanders flinch as Yosano, Dazai, and Fukuzawa calmly looked his way as if knowing from the start he was listening. He didn’t care, far too wrapped up in his fears as he practically pleaded, “Violet-san – She-She is going to be okay, right? She can’t- She’s not-”

She’s not going to die, right?

Atsushi grimaced as his question rang clear despite not making it past his lips. Yosano and Dazai frowned, not at all reassuring even as the doctor answered calmly, “She’s weakened from lack of food and sleep, but I think she received treatment in time. Even if it didn’t stop the infection, it bought her enough time to get real help. Still…” she narrowed her eyes, “Tonight will be critical. If her fever doesn’t break by morning we will have to relocate her to a hospital.”

The entire room seemed to shift with such potent unease that, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Kyouka stir and open her blue eyes in question. Despite not knowing their situation or the woman, the young girl frowned in her direction. A trace of…familiarity? Was that the emotion he saw in her eyes? Could they have crossed paths before? Did that mean Violet was connected to the Mafia somehow? No. No way. It wasn’t possible. No way could that innocent girl be associated with such a diabolical group….

Right?

Atsushi frowned uneasily, his doubt and questions a common theme among the group as noted by Dazai’s keen eyes. They were beginning to doubt and harbor questions. Only this time a thick layer of guilt kept them from accepting them hastily. Sasaki’s plot still lingered and kept their wounds fresh – something Violet’s troubled sleep and pale complexion only threw salt in.

Violet…. Violet Fitzgerald. The bandaged man frowned deeply, many considering it a sign of similar worry. If only they knew. Or, rather, perhaps they should be spared that knowledge a little longer. Until they could ascertain she would really be okay. Yes. That appeared to be the best route. He himself was caught in conflict, so he could only imagine the chaotic storm that would brew if they were to learn what he had to tell.

To glimpse upon the same chilling reality that stared back at him from that screen in the darkness of that room. Of the information of that group. Of their existence and looming threat.

Of the hauntingly familiar name of their leader.

What would they do upon learning of that bit of information? He couldn’t tell, but knew enough to keep silent. Although, after Yosano’s tongue lashing, he’d have to spill eventually. Heck. Maybe they would show up and save him the effort. After all, they had to be close. And yet… He glanced back at Violet.

She reacted so violently to her surname coming from their lips. Was this why? Was it because she saw this future? Or, perhaps, Atsushi was not the only one with a target on his head. If so, then they were at a serious disadvantage. Protecting the teen was one thing as he could defend himself, but the blonde… Sure, she was far more resilient than looks hinted, but that would not save her from being torn in two.

Maybe it was best she slept. Maybe then they could spare her some of the pain he held a sickening feeling she would face in the days to come.

“Dazai-san…” Atsushi’s weak voice pulled him back to the present. He didn’t turn to face the teen as he continued in a small, scared voice, “Did we force Violet-san into this? Her injuries, are they because we didn’t believe her? Did…Did Sasaki-san actually win?”

His rather statement-like questions were like poison to their consciences and a thick air descended on them. Atsushi wanted to hear no, to hear that they were not to blame that they couldn’t possibly have predicted this turn of events. Alas, such never came as the bandaged man gave a small exhale as he brushed his fingers along Violet’s scratched hand.

His silence rang deafeningly in their ears.

Notes:

Yay! Getting back to a regularish update schedule c:
Thank you for all of the support and kind messages/comments.

As for the story, from here it does begin to delve into some of its more major story beyond that of the original timeline. I plan on keeping it on course for a little, but given Violet's presence it can't really stay the same, as she will come to learn in the next few chapters.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy ♥

Chapter 15: One Last Time

Summary:

Forever praying for one last time

Darkness spread as far as the eye could see. It could be only a few feet or countless miles. Who knew? Maybe it was all an illusion. A dream. A consuming void that captured any unsuspecting victim who fell prey to the temptation of staring into it – one such victim being myself. Fortunately, before I could rot away gazing blankly into that darkness, something stirred and pulled me out.

What…? What happened?

Despite no longer being ensnared, darkness remained around me. Only a portion of stone flooring lit by a light without any source cut through it. A small, singular sanctuary from the void. How? Why? Was this all a dream? It had to be. Still, it didn’t do much to restrain the disorientation.

Soft, shallow cushions shifted beneath my legs – a glance revealing some old, probably musty couch you might find in a garage sale. Garage sale. Do those even exist anymore? Either way, the thing looked like something my friend’s great grandmother would have owned during the time they lived overseas. It was one of those reclining ones that doubles as a bed, I think. Either way, whoever put me here must’ve been too lazy to help me lie down. Rude. Didn’t they know I needed sleep?

Sleep? Why…? I felt the tension in my body build, growing as my nails dug into soft cotton – a huge texture difference from my shorts and tank top that were replaced by some sort-of off white dress and golden brown waistband adding some figure to it. What? How? My move to press a hand against my throbbing head stopped as a flash of gold shone in my eyes from a golden arm cuff around my wrist.

What was happening? Where was Dazai? Where was I? How did I end up here? If this was a dream, shouldn’t I wake up upon realizing it? But why was I still here? Was I trapped here?

Breathing grew harder as I curled an arm around my waist. Something felt off, and not in the good way. I needed to get out. But where? There was nothing here. Nothing except the me and the sofa and endless abys-

“So young this time…” a voice sighed wearily.

I should get a medal for managing to not scream as the voice sounded directly behind me. The heck? I spun around so fast I tripped a little on the long gown, fumbling to straighten up only to practically fall off the sofa as a figure’s grey back sat only inches away. Whoa. How the heck? Who was this person? How did they get here? Did they know the way out? Who even greets someone like-

Wait.

“I-I understand you…” I murmured in awe, beginning to shake. No way. Did the translator thing finally come through?

“Yes. Languages hold no meaning in this place. A rather convenient trait, don’t you think?” the person informed with a note of chuckle. It was weird and echoing to the point I couldn’t tell if they were a male or female. The loose grey cloak covering them didn’t help either, although it looked cool. Almost like an Assassin’s Creed cloak but more…simple.

Nevertheless I held a sickening feeling speaking with this person for long would give me a headache as I had to strain to understand what they said, “Still, for such a young girl to be here… It is a tragedy indeed.”

Uh… Why? What was this? Oh gosh, don’t tell me…

“Is this the afterlife?” my voice cracked. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. No. That’s not- No. I couldn’t be dead. Not now, not yet. I needed to get home not in the realm of the dead of a world I didn’t belong in. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. Reality can’t be this cruel right?

Tears stung at my eyes and my throat constricted, barely relenting as the person corrected softly, “No. Although maybe that would have been better for you.”

What place is better than this limbo of afterlife?

The figure turned to give a small smile – their features still aggravatingly shrouded. How? They were like three inches away. Why couldn’t I see their face? Was this some trick or figment of my imagination?

“Sorry, I did not mean to bring you distress. If possible, I wish to grant you all the happiness in the world,” they confessed.

“Why?” I frowned, “You don’t even know me.”

Not to mention stranger danger. A stalker maybe? Great. One that can infiltrate my dreams too. Fantastic.

“Must I know someone to wish them happiness?” they countered lightly.

Well no. But it makes encounters like this less creepy.

“No. But it’s a bit weird. I mean, I’m not exactly where I want to be but I’m not miserable,” I defended.

“I suppose so,” a light chuckle echoed around us, sobering as they turned back and murmured, “Still… To be burdened so at such a young age not only with that but your gift as well…”

Gift?

“Do you mean ability? Whoa, hold on,” I shifted and held up my hands, “No. I mean, it’d be cool and all, but no. I’m not an ability user. Sure I write a little, but I’m nowhere near famous authors like Dazai and the others.”

“Perhaps, but then not all gifts are special abilities,” the person spoke like a parent kindly correcting their child’s innocent mistake. I frowned, almost wanting it to rub the wrong way but all it left was a sensation of confusion without any hints of insult to my ego.

“While forgotten by many today, there are gifts remaining in this world that span beyond ancient magic and powers. Sadly many techniques were lost along the way – buried in the pages of history. Perhaps for the best… However…”

Something within the dimension shifted suddenly, like a glitch. Only the whole world was affected. Naturally I jumped in alarm. Was the world crumbling apart? What was going to happen? Was I going to wake up? Or fall into a different dimension? Who was this person? Were they going to stay with me? Or would they disappear? Or… Gosh.

Were they going to push me down that hole?

I shifted on the edge of the sofa, not so sure I wanted to be near the person who seemed entirely unbothered by the world falling apart around us. Must have some guts or lack of common sense. Or maybe they were suicidal like Dazai? Great. Just great. Not exactly the best of help.

I grit my teeth, trying to find a nonexistent exit only to pause as the person continued solemnly, “The time for ignorance is coming to a close. Your very presence will sound a new era, one that will consume the fates of those around you. You will bring misfortune to those closest to you, but do not fear despair, for despair cannot exist without hope.”

What was this person going on about? Misfortune? Fate? Were they saying I’d screw up the storyline? Kinda knew that already, thanks. But what about this despair thing? Isn’t despair by definition a lack of hope? Ugh. Philosophical questions hurt my head.

Without warning the whole world shook so violently I fell off the edge of the sofa. Only instead of hitting the ground I plummeted into endless darkness. Instinctively I screamed, flailing for whatever good that would do as the person and light faded.

The last thing I heard was a clear voice that stole my breath away, “It is up to you to decide which prevails, Violet…”

Wait, he knew my name? He? That was a guy, right? His voice was clear enough to tell but so calm that I doubted myself. Still it quickly got pushed to the back burner as the suffocating darkness shattered.

Images of the Guild, of Fitzgerald and Mori and Dazai and Odasaku flashed around me – a deafening chorus of voices surrounding me. These were scenes from season two; events that waited for me in the waking world. It was chilling and aweing at the same time. Only it grew old fast as minutes spanned into what felt like hours of falling and witnessing these scenes. What was the point? Sure it helped my memory, but I already knew all of this. Why show me aga-?

Without warning the barrage of images disappeared in a gust of ferocious wind. Pale blue moonlight enveloped everything and cooled the green and grey ground beneath me. What happened? Did I wake up? Was I back in reality? How? What happened? Why-

A flare of black flames suddenly engulfed the grass around me. Out of natural reaction I yelped and shielded myself from the heat. Heat that oddly never came. What? Why? What sort of fire wasn’t hot? I say as if black fire is a normal thing. That should’ve been the first hint. One that shot over my head in beat with a hand suddenly snatching my wrist in a death grip.

Gasping, the world blurred momentarily as the hand tugged me around until I came face-to-face with a hallow-eyed beast with lines marring its pristine skin. The flames surrounded it and slowly crept up my arm. They left a stinging sensation that grew to unnerving levels. I didn’t want to find out what happened if they lasted too long. No. Forget that. I knew what would happen, because I recognized the beast – or rather man.

“C-Chuuya?!” I gasped in horror as Corruption twisted his features into a manic grin.

The flames steadily engulfed me, and my laughable attempts to pull away only resulted in him tugging me closer. The moment I hit his chest, black heavy fire exploded around me and I felt gravity begin to distort to the point I didn’t know if I’d implode or explode. It was confusing and terrifying.

Everything escalated dangerously with his laughter – all the push I needed to scream as gravity slowly crushed us both.

 

…

 

Silvery moonlight drifted in, casting a soft glow on the forms huddled so close together that they appeared to be pillows among the mound of blankets. Soft breaths mimicked a gentle breeze in the quiet, soothing to the point that the eyes gazing at them drooped a little. After everything, after all their prayers and concerns the ragged breaths that haunted them and kept them awake at last relented.

Violet’s fever had broken, and the moment it did it seemed to sap the last ounce of their energy. Everyone huddled around the blonde’s bedside – Kenji, Tanizaki, Naomi, Atsushi, and Kyouka among those who practically laid on the young sleeping woman.

Yosano smiled softly. These people… Choosing to remain by her side as if she might disappear again if they left. It was a fear she related to even as she lightly scoffed at it. Somehow, someway the strange blonde wormed her way into their lives. Without even being able to communicate with them, she grew so much on the people here. How would they possibly be able to let her go when the time came?

Perhaps Violet could join the Agency, not as an ability user but a secretary. Sure, they’d have to teach her how to write and speak a bit more, but she was a quick learner. She held faith the blonde would be able to flourish. Of course, they had to wait and see if that was actually what she wanted.

But was letting her go such a smart idea?

Yosano frowned, recalling Dazai’s short recap before he and Fukuzawa disappeared into his office. Was what he had to say so sensitive that it warranted walking away from them? What did he learn in Port Mafia’s headquarters? Did it concern their boss – that man? The young doctor clenched her fist reflexively.

She would not let Violet fall into his hands. It was a silent vow they all swore to uphold if only to prevent this scene from repeating again.

A small creak pulled her attention to where Dazai quietly entered, his footsteps practically nonexistent as he closed the door and approached with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Kunikida-kun and the others seem to have fallen asleep at their desks.”

The doctor shook her head, instantly seeing through his sly expression, “You’re just asking for trouble, you know? I doubt Kunikida or anyone else will be happy to learn you drew on their faces.”

Dazai defended innocently despite the smirk on his face, “Me? Draw on their faces while they’re quietly sleeping so soundly? I would never.”

Yosano sighed, already hearing the enraged outbursts from the other room. She had at least a few more hours of peace until that happened at the very least. Catching her shift to get more comfortable in her chair, Dazai raised a brow, “Going to pull another all-nighter? You sure? I am willing to keep watch if you want to rest. If anything happens I’ll be sure to wake you.”

“Thanks, but I want to keep a close eye just in case any complications arise. Besides, the report I submitted to the hospital for Violet’s information finally came back and I’d like to see if they found anything,” Yosano stated, pulling the yellow envelope out from under some papers, feeling his curious gaze follow her every move, thus prompting her to add, “Care for some late night reading? Or are you going to continue with your art session?”

“Hmm, tempting offer,” he mulled glancing over at the slumbering forms of the others.

She followed his gaze, giving a small chuckle, “We’ve become quiet the haven of the misfortunate.” Indeed, Atsushi’s story was tragic enough but now with Violet’s trial and this new ex-Port Mafia assassin… Perhaps they attracted poor souls.

“True, they are rather unfortunate cases, but,” he smiled, “They are not so lost as to lose sight of a brighter future and move onwards.”

Yosano nodded, frowning as her eyes landed on the blonde barely visible beneath them. A question escaped her lips subconsciously, “I wonder if Violet thinks the same. Maybe when she wakes she’ll run away again. Can’t say I blame her. Anyone would after what she went through.”

Silence lingered as the familiar regret churned in her only to falter as Dazai spoke softly, prompting her to glance up into his warm gaze at the slumbering woman, “I wouldn’t say that. Violet-chan is surprisingly resilient, not to mention inclined to forgiveness. When she realized I was nearby, she sounded relieved rather than afraid – although that may simply be because we were in Port Mafia’s dungeon,” he chagrinned but finished confidently, “Either way, she’s smart and not one to hold a serious grudge. I would not be surprised if she’d long since forgiven everyone, considering she even hated us to begin with.”

Yosano blinked at his conviction that rung true enough that she shook her head and smiled softly at the woman, “Just when I think I am beginning to understand her… Violet may just be more of a mystery than even we can figure out.”

“Yeah, Ranpo-kun will be upset,” Dazai chuckled, turning back to her, “Now, about that report…”

He trailed off as her attention suddenly snapped behind him. Yosano tensed and her eyes widened in surprise. Frowning, Dazai turned back only to mimic her astonishment as a form sat up straight in the bed.

“Violet-chan?” he greeted uncertainly. Was she awake already?

His eyes narrowed, noting no reaction whatsoever from the blonde who kept her half-lidded eyes trained on the wall across from her. He exchanged a glance with Yosano before looking back as she murmured, “She’s sleepwalking…?”

“I suppose…” he agreed vacantly, watching in stunned quietness as Violet shifted and reached over to the table, picking up her sketchbook, “Or perhaps sleep-drawing?”

Yosano frowned, quietly getting up and approaching with Dazai in tow. What was happening? Did she want to talk with them? Why? His frown deepened. If she really was a prophet, then perhaps she knew what he relayed to Fukuzawa hours ago. Was she going to defend herself or maybe try to explain? Or was it something else?

Faint scratches of pen on paper sounded, causing a few of the forms on her bed to stir yet remain blissfully unconscious. It was steadily more and more appealing as they watched her draw something shapeless. Jagged lines met smoother ones – soft bends ending with sharp tips. Her movements, while hasty, were not haphazard. No. If anything they were precise – as if she was tracing an image.

“What is…?” Yosano murmured with furrowed brows, wondering if she should stop her. It wasn’t like Violet was being harmed, just that everything about this felt…wrong. She couldn’t explain it, but by the way Dazai shifted beside her, she knew he felt the same inexplicable unease.

The bandaged man’s eyes narrowed in concentration. It was like a game of Pictionary, only much darker than their previous rounds. What was she trying to say? Was she even aware of what she was doing? His eyes flicked to her face. She bore no expression, instead focusing relentlessly on the white paper that slowly filled with black ink.

He glanced back at it. Were those stones? Perhaps a field? But why were they in thin air? Where was this? A place of her past? And who was the slightly hunched figure in the center? Why was she starting to color in the features to the point its silhouette was obscured by black flame-like-

Dazai suddenly stiffened, shock so potent he did not have time to contain it. Yosano’s attention snapped his way but all he could do was stare in shock at the black mass of nothingness. Or, rather, a figure surrounded by familiar black flames. Flames that crushed many and made its captive infamous with the city – a particular road standing out even to strangers.

That was no random drawing. And this was no simple monster.

It was Chuuya. Violet was drawing Chuuya in his corrupted state. Back when he went by a different name.

Countless questions flooded his mind, yet urgency to stop her before Yosano could make out the picture spurred him forward. Not that her learning of Chuuya’s ability was detrimental. Rather the fact that Violet knew the man to this extent – to know something she should not know suddenly made him fear for her. It was impossible. And yet she knew, enough to draw with stunning clarity down to the very runes that covered the man when he activated that ability.

He knew the Agency would not harm her, and yet he could not say the same to others who would see this and recognize what he saw.

Snatching up her hand, the line tracing Chuuya’s blank eyes veered leftwards as Dazai shouted urgently, “Violet-chan!”

The voice shattered the illusion – dissipating the weight and terror just like No Longer Human would suppress Corruption when the time came. It was a splash of cold water, relieving yet shocking at the same time.

A gasp tore from my throat as I jerked.

What happened? Where was I? My heart pounded. I could still feel phantoms of Chuuya’s hand around my wrist. Or was it? Oh I really did not want to look. Everything was dark and I couldn’t see clearly and ohhhh.

Fortunately, when I forced my eyes downwards what met me weren’t bloodstained hands but a slightly bandaged one. Bandages…? Was that…?

“D-Dazai…?” I rasped. Ouch. My throat felt drier than a desert. I needed water, but before I could croak it out, I met their gazes.

Gazes filled with the most potent astonishment I’d ever seen in a face. What? Why were they staring at me like that? Did I say something weird? Or maybe I looked different? Why? Did Dazai do something? Or… Could it have been that man? Did he do something?

My stomach dropped at the thought, dragging my eyes down to the sketchbook that somehow ended up in my hands. Confusion about how it ended up there barely had a chance to form as I blinked at the picture.

No way. This was… Chuuya? Oh, if only it was just that. No. That was Chuuya with Corruption activated. Oh gosh. There was no point in hiding it. Dazai and Yosano obviously saw. At least that explained their shock if only to doom me to their unbridled suspicion. Ahhhh, come on. Maybe I could argue I didn’t do it? Yeah, as the pen in my hand falls on the paper. Ahhhhhh. Does it count that I was unconscious?

Dazai narrowed his eyes, all the answer I needed. Yep. I was dead. So much for sticking around. Sucks but I was not planning on becoming his interrogation target. No thank you. Not planning on experiencing that torment, thank you very much. Fight or flight kicked in for the thousandth time. Maybe one day I’d choose the former option. As of now…

Without wasting a second, I leapt off the bed. Good idea in theory, terrible on my still healing feet. Nevertheless I managed to right myself on the bed rail – all the help I needed to b-line it to the door. No way was I staying here now. Heck, like I could stay long before. Dazai just learned about Fitzgerald who was on his way if not here already. As sucky as it was, my time was up and I had better chances surviving away from their quick, albeit understandable, assumptions.

They couldn’t afford to worry about me. Not when they’d be fighting for their own lives and those of the citizens of this city.

I practically ripped the door off its hinges, but a sharp cry froze me in the doorway, “Violet-san, stop!”

I should’ve ignored him and ran, that would save us all the trouble I’d bring. You will bring misfortune to those around you… Gosh. I barely talked with the guy and his words already haunted me. Yet even then the pure pleading in his voice tugged at my heart. He already went through so much…

“Atsushi…” I whispered, turning to find the teen half climb onto the bed. His eyes drowned in desperation, a much more potent reflection of Tanizaki, Naomi, and Kenji’s gazes. Heck, even Kyouka looked concerned. Why? We never met more than that time. How did they even get there? Were they sleeping on my bed?

Were they waiting for me to wake up?

It should’ve been reassuring but it only made things worse. I could handle them hating me. That would make things so much easier. Of course, that makes sense. Why wouldn’t they call my name? They were protagonists. Of course they wanted to stop me. But why? Didn’t they know that it would only make them worse off in the future?

“Please…” Atsushi practically begged, making it nearly impossible not to tear up. Heck, by the stinging in my eye I failed there as he continued weakly, “Don’t go Violet-san!”

Gosh. Why Atsushi? Did he know I’d always cave to him? Anyone else I’d have no problem with leaving, but this poor orphaned cinnamon roll? Why?

It took a second to realize it but I was shaking, my trembling voice as much as a surprise to me as them as I whispered, “Scared.”

Yes. I was scared. Not of what they probably thought. I wasn’t scared of them. I was scared for them. For what awaited them. For when they faced Fitzgerald, for when they learned who he was for what my presence here would doom them to. I was afraid of their deaths. Afraid of what would happen. Afraid of what I knew and what I didn’t know.

Most of all, I was afraid of myself and what the picture Dazai folded in his hands meant.

This was too much. I thought things would be better, and while they were compared to Port Mafia, I couldn’t take it. No. Not now. I needed an escape. I needed a way out. God. I needed a place to be alone and cry and breathe and just not be under their stares. I felt the whimper rise in my throat but bit down hard on my lip, hoping the pain would somehow distract me from the rising panic and despair.

“Violet,” a soothing voice spoke up mother-like in tone. It bore no hints of punishment or disapproval. Only calm serenity that gave me a little strength to blink away the tears and look at Yosano who took a tentative step forward, “It’s okay. You’re okay. We are not going to hurt you.”

Could she even say that? She did not know what loomed ahead in the shadows. What awaited them... They needed all the focus and strength they could get. I would only add to their burden. Okay? How could things possibly be okay?

“Stay here,” a stern voice sounded from behind, pulling my attention where Kunikida, Ranpo, and a handful of workers stood in the hallway. Why…? Had they all stayed? To wait for me to wake up? No. Not a chance. Don’t be so conceited… But they were here…with marker on their faces?

Either way he said something I couldn’t understand, probably listing reasons why I should stay. Like for interrogation and discretion and other horrors… Gosh. I couldn’t take this. Why couldn’t they just let me go? I wanted so badly for them to find me earlier, yet now all I wanted was for them to go away. How did it turn out like this? What went wrong?

Before I could shut them out, something shoved into my hands. It was a notebook – its lined pages untouched aside from the crude drawing in the middle of…was that the Agency? And in the center… Was that me?

“Stay here. Together – Violet and the Agency,” Ranpo spoke, mimicking my fragmented talk while pointing to the picture. Did he draw this?

It was horrible yet so heartfelt that I winced as my tears began to smear it. Why? Ranpo of all people should know what misfortune I would bring. So why? Why were these people so accepting? I don’t care if they are protagonists. They are human; they should know and throw me out. Heck, they should be angry and defensive and protect themselves. Their kindness would kill them.

Something they seemed to know but kept firm anyways. It was too much. These people were too much. I couldn’t take it anymore.

Before I realized what I was doing, I wrapped my hands around Kunikida and sobbed into his chest. He flinched, the awkward guy likely not knowing what to do. Can’t say I blame him. I’d freak out if some random girl suddenly hugged me in a vice grip and cried her eyes out. Still he recovered admirably as he wrapped a hand around my back and pet my head soothingly.

It was touching, and in that moment it became clear to me why I did that instead of pushing him aside and running.

Warmth. They were all so warm and comforting and nice… I didn’t want to leave. Even though my presence would doom them, I selfishly wanted to savor this solace a little longer. I couldn’t help it, and my greed killed me. I was choosing my own happiness over their lives and safety. And they accepted that. How much more could my heart take? I didn’t know but I’d probably meet Atsushi in terms of the largest amount of agony a person could live through.

A few chuckles sounded distantly and I felt a few hands rest comfortingly on my shoulders and back. They were too kind. Hopefully that kindness would not become their deaths. Whatever the case, I let it fade in Kunikida’s arms.

For now, I let their warmth and kindness consume me. God knows I’d need every last bit of it for what was to come.

Notes:

Guess who started grad school? This terrified kid. At least I have the next couple of chapters ready, so no delays anytime in the near future, but may hit some bumps as the semester progresses.

As for the story, we finally get a little glimpse on some of the underlying events that will pervade the overall story. I don't plan on letting this one drag out too long, but will likely add little specials here and there (already have one in mind for Halloween). Either way, nowhere near how long Untouchable will be once I finally regain some inspiration for that series.

Hope you all enjoy ♥

Chapter 16: The Good Life

Summary:

Friends and felines soothe the soul.

Instincts. Have you ever wondered why some people seem to have them and others don’t? That weird sixth sense tiny voice warning you in a way that makes you some sort of prophet. They keep you safe, as if your mind is yelling at your body to stop giving into emotion and survive. Or perhaps it is the other way around? After all, emotions are much more potent motivators than logic. Although maybe that’s just my personal bias taking over.

Regardless of your side of the debate, both sides were playing fairly hard as I trembled helplessly on my back as my left foot was pulled in line with an inspecting gaze.

Gosh… Why did we have to do this? Why was I even scared? They weren’t going to hurt me. Heck, after three days my feet were pretty much healed. Calloused a little, but not really hurting anymore. Still, lingering instinct to pull away and spare myself the pain that wouldn’t come drew a small whimper from my mouth. It was mortifying but I couldn’t help myself. Dang instincts somehow switched from survival to mocking me.

“Don’t worry, Violet,” Yosano reassured softly as she unraveled the bandages clinging to my feet like makeshift shoes, “You’re not going to get hurt.”

Yeah, I know. Try telling that to my blaring instincts that shoved me in some car speeding down a dirt road barely a foot wide on the side of a cliff. Ahhh. Breathe. Calm down. Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing’s going to happen…

She brushed the back of my heel where the last scabbed blister stubbornly remained – all the push my mind needed to send me plopping down on the bed if only to stop the urge to kick her. Gosh. This was freaking torture. How ironic. Here I thought that all was alright (well until the other shoe dropped that is), but apparently I was doomed to endure some level of torment here.

I suppose that meant that guy was right after all. Not really surprised but it kinda sucked. I mean, does anyone enjoy being called a bearer of misfortune? Maybe if I stuck around Dazai his uncanny luck would offset things…

Speaking of… Where was he? The past three days I barely left the office – only time not even leaving the building as Yosano brought me to the café downstairs for lunch and Kenji on the roof to gaze at the blurred stars. Sure, they were nice and peaceful and full of games with the blonde, Atsushi, and the other Agency workers, but the lack of a certain bandaged man made me uneasy. Despite my best efforts I always found myself gazing at the door, waiting for him to walk through.

Why? If anything it should be reassuring he stayed away. Not only did he find me in Port Mafia’s dungeon, but I spurted Chuuya’s name. Heck, the picture I drew of Corruption was a hell of a conversation starter. He obviously knew that I knew something. So why wasn’t he confronting me? Guilt? Hardly. As good as he was compared to his previous self, Dazai’s motives stayed relatively the same. Not to mention something as serious as that practically justified him interrogating me.

And yet he never showed up.

As much as I did not want to be interrogated by Dazai, I’d rather face that then risk him not being here when Fitzgerald showed up. Ugh. Bile rose in my throat at the thought of that man. Three days. Three days and he still hadn’t shown up. Was he taking his sweet time cruising over here? Did he know it would torment me? Probably not but it did. As much as I did not want Fitzgerald to come, waiting for him was utter hell not even the light feeling of excitement upon witnessing Atsushi and Kenji’s first mission together healed.

A small hand rested on my head, petting my hair gently as a quiet voice murmured, “It’s okay.”

Kyouka. There brings yet another interesting development to these three days. I knew she was going to be there when I woke up, but actually meeting her was…odd. Not that I hated Kyouka, heck I adored the cute girl, but that she was unnervingly perceptive. Guess quiet people have that connection.

Nevertheless, my time in the infirmary was largely spent with her drawing pictures in my sketchbook. She drew a lot of rabbits and other pictures that melted my heart in a way I wanted to hug her and chase away all her pain. But that wasn’t going to happen til after Fitzgerald terrorized everyone. Hopefully by that point she wouldn’t have skewered me with Demon Snow. Either way, Kyouka’s knack for getting me to open up was like a breath of fresh air. Not to say it was not terrifying at times.

Case in point the series of pictures depicting the warehouse and river and Port Mafia’s dungeon. Yeah. This innocent kid managed to drag out all my demons in the way only a kid can do without getting hit. It’s an odd and unnerving trait. Why is it? Maybe because they are still naïve to the customs of society? Probably for the best. I guess that’s why we always try to prevent them from growing up too fast. Unfortunately for us, we already passed that point.

Be that as it may, Kyouka was a pretty good translator for me. From what I could tell, she took up that role as spontaneously as our meeting and initial drawing sessions began. It still sucked, especially when the others frowned my way at the information, but they couldn’t really do much else so could I really blame them? Of course. Yet I refrained from doing so. They already faced so much.

How could I add to their burden? Heck, once Fitzgerald came I’d…

Sharp pain cut through my thoughts, and I jerked against Yosano’s grip as she apologized, “Sorry, Violet.”

A quick glance at my foot showed some of the bandages on my right foot stuck to a scab – one that was cruelly ripped off with a precise tug. It wasn’t terrible, just a rude shove back to reality.

“I-It’s okay,” I murmured, giving her a weak smile if only to bring her back from that expression of worry. Come on. You’d have enough to deal with in a few days… Days? For all I knew she had hours…

Letting my head rest back on the bed, I listened to the faint murmurs on the other side of her door. Who was it? They sounded familiar and yet none of them was the one I wanted to hear. Why? His arrival would only mark the beginning of the end. Why would I want him to show up? If anything I should be praying he’d stay away and give me more time. And yet…

If Dazai was really this omen of destruction, then maybe he could help me cope with the looming child of misfortune title over my head.

“Thinking about Dazai, huh?” Yosano murmured.

What? How did she-? Duh, detective agency. Why wouldn’t she see that? Sadly the realization failed to cool my burning cheeks. Thinking about someone, especially when they’re one of your fictional crushes, was nice until someone pointed it out. Then it just became mortifying. Seeing as he actually existed in this world should’ve reassured me, but it only made things worse.

Turning so that my face partially disappeared into the cool sheets, I murmured, “I want to see Dazai…”

Okay, not helping my embarrassment, but why bother lie? She’d see through it anyways. It was just a waste of effort and time. Besides, with everything that loomed on the horizon, the least I could do was tell the truth. Maybe she’d look back on this and see that I wasn’t her enemy in the future…

“Don’t worry. He’s alright,” she attempted to calm my worries but only made things worse.

Alright? Then why is he still gone? Sure this was Dazai, but… Was he hurt from learning I knew about Chuuya and didn’t try to tell him? Kinda stupid given circumstances, and yet… I curled in on the blossoming pain in my chest. Of all people… I didn’t want to add to his pain.

Yet it seemed as if my misfortune was already showing its fangs.

Kyouka’s gentle hand once more brought soothing relief as she hummed a soft melody. It was beautiful and simple. Where’d she learn it? Obviously not Port Mafia. Unless Kouyou taught her… No. Even that felt off. Was it her mother? Gosh. So much for perking me up. This kid was seriously testing my will not to hug her and cry the tears she should be shedding.

Still, the thought that she cared enough to resort to this method was touching and I let it soothe me as much as it could. When a tantalizing aroma brushed my nose, I lifted my head to find Naomi and Haruno with a tray of food ranging from sushi to soup to fried rice and everything imaginable as if they couldn’t make up their minds with what to eat. That or lingering concern after seeing my thinner form. Apparently I lost more than 10 pounds while I was away. Yikes, but kinda unsurprising given my nonexistent meals of scraps.

I wanted to vent to them about things – not through pictures but words. It sucked and made me want to curl up in the blankets. Everything felt so hard, and the tension was agonizing. Not to mention the only one who held a chance at seeing through all this wasn’t around…

A sigh left my lips as I curled them into the best attempt of a smile I could muster. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about him. Just enjoy this moment. It’s only a matter of time til it goes away. Just relax. Enjoy the moment.

I recited it over and over like a mantra. Maybe after so many times it would become true.

 

…

 

No dreams came that night, so when a pressure landed on the end of my bed and shook it just enough to pull me back it wasn’t with reluctance that I blinked open my eyes. Fractured moonlight cast a silvery glow to the bed and Yosano’s empty desk. After realizing that I was okay on my own, she started letting me sleep without someone in the room. It was nice, both not having random panic attacks every night and the fact she could finally get some real sleep in her own bed.

What changed? Maybe my encounter with Port Mafia? Ironic. Thought they’d only make things worse. Or maybe it was the knowledge that they were worse than any shadow demons in the dark that let me sleep soundly? Who knows?

Still, of all times to get the green card to sleep alone… It would be the time something jumps on the end of my bed. Gosh. What was it? An intruder? Someone from Port Mafia? Akutagawa should still be recovering, but you all know how monstrous he is. Gosh. I didn’t want to look but the unknown was driving me crazy. What beast awaited me? A demon? A ghost? A murderous mafia goon? Or…

A pair of yellow eyes peered back at me in the darkness accompanied by a lithe tail curling in beat with a soft meow.

It was a….cat? What? Did Fukuzawa actually bring one back? Not surprising but still… These eccentric characters were too much. And here I thought I stood out too much. Please. Not in this circus.

One that only grew as I recognized the cat whose tabby features clarified when he trotted up my legs to nuzzle my arm affectionately. Wasn’t this Haruno’s cat? She showed me countless photos that made me question her sanity (as if anyone here could honestly say they were sane), but apparently it paid off. This was exactly the same cat down to the black ring in the middle of his tail and white underfur that made him look as if someone dipped him in frosting.

Mii-chan, if I remember correctly. It was hard to tell considering ever since reading that chapter another always came to the forefront. One that made my heart skip a beat in excitement and slight unease and chagrin as he purred luxuriously while rubbing against my arm as I sat up. After all, even if he was responsible for protecting the city and forming the Agency, he was still an old man – one that was disguised almost lecherously as a cute feline.

Yeah. I was trying not to think about it but figured his intentions were mainly out of comfort. Did he know what happened to me? Was that why he was here? I mean it made sense, especially since he probably didn’t know I knew he wasn’t really a cat despite his ability’s name. For all of two seconds as I let the lingering haze of sleep loosen my tongue.

“Good evening, Natsume,” I smiled, petting his soft fur. His purring stopped but other than that it seemed as if my revelation in knowing his name didn’t offset him. Thank goodness. That was the last thing I needed. Now if he could just stay in this form it’d be great.

He gave a small meow, wrapping his tail around my wrist and keeping it in place so that I scratched a part of his back that must’ve felt nice as his eyes narrowed in bliss. Again, awkward considering he’s an old man. But I was beginning to overlook that and just bask in the comforting presence all animals impart.

What brought him here? Did Haruno know? I think she mentioned he disappeared none-too-mysteriously before every disaster befell the city. Was he about to go into hiding? Or… I let a frown tug my lips down. Was he about to prepare for the oncoming storm?

I must’ve stopped as he stepped forward and put all his weight on one paw like only a cat could accomplish. If that wasn’t enough, he shoved his face against my cheek, head butting it in a silent demand of my attention. It was startling and I was going to gently push him back until his whiskers tickled my face, nearly making me sneeze.

“Alright, alright,” I chuckled, reaching beneath his arms and settling him in my lap.

When it was clear that he had my attention he leaned up on his front paws and sniffed at my left arm, giving a small lick with his sandpaper tongue. It was innocent and kind of cute. But the words were clear. Ironic. I could understand him perfectly yet the others were still an enigma. A cat. What was this place?

Petting his head, I murmured, “Don’t worry. I’m okay. It does not hurt much.”

He gave a tilt of his head as if to say he was still concerned but took my word at least. Again. Why can I talk to cats and not humans? Well, sort of. I wished I could actually speak. All the questions I wanted to ask him. Like what he was going to do now. Did he understand other cats? Was that how he got his information? What was it like to be a cat? Was it everything that the Aristocats said it would be? What about Fukuzawa and Mori? How did he meet them? Did he do the same with Dazai? I know he influenced the formation of Soukoku and consequentially the next generation’s devastating rivals, but did he know?

All these questions and more frothed in my mouth that couldn’t begin to ask them in Japanese. However, since he wasn’t actually a cat maybe this would work…

Leaning over, I grabbed my sketchbook and pen. It worked with Kyouka, so maybe it’d suffice with him. Not like I could tell as he curled up in my lap and watched as I drew various shapes in attempt to convey my questions. It was kinda stupid given he couldn’t even draw to reply, but the faint purrs and meows hinted as to what he felt. When I drew a poor attempt of Mori, however, I paused. Was he angry with him for hurting me? As much as I sympathized and wanted him to scold him, I felt oddly inclined to defend the guy. As callous as he was, his efforts to cut away the infection did end up helping even though I’m fairly certain it left a scar.

Natsume gave a low growl. Was he actually angry? Or upset that he hurt me? Either way, it quickly turned into a questioning meow as I pat his head and frowned. My lips pressed against each other as I fought to remember the words. What were they again? Ah. That’s it.

“Mori-sensei… Not bad, just scary,” I chagrinned, feeling his eyes bore into me as I felt my face warm a little at how self-conscious he made me feel. Are we sure his ability is turning into a cat and not mind reading?

Still everything I said was true. Mori wasn’t bad. Okay, no, he was. There’s no denying that moral black. But he wasn’t fully a demon. I mean he wanted to protect the city – that’s fairly noble, right? Not exactly to the point he was an anti-hero like Dazai, but maybe enough to be called an anti-villain? Either way, he needed to stick around for the good of things. That and, as odd as it sounds, I liked him as the leader of Port Mafia. It just felt right. Even during his short interim as leader, Chuuya just felt weird in the position. Not that he couldn’t handle it just that things felt ten times safer with Mori on top.

If Natsume saw this he made no comment. Good. Suddenly all that energy started wearing off and the realization that I woke up at three in the morning weighed down on me. Sleep was a good thing, and after that hell week of barely any I was not about to forsake the chance of sleeping even without dreaming.

Shifting back down, I curled around him and gave him lazy pets while murmuring, “I’m tired. Good night, Natsume… Stay safe, okay?”

I let my heavy eyes rest in soothing blackness. Just before it overtook me, I felt his warmth curl into my stomach and rest with small purrs vibrating through me like a lullaby. A smile curled up my lips as an overwhelming sense of peace descended.

While Fukuzawa and Yosano and the entire Agency’s presence brought a level of reassurance not to be underestimated, feeling Natsume beside me felt so much warmer and surrounded me in a veil of protection that I’d never felt before or would again.

Almost as if he knew the demons I’d face when I next opened my eyes.

Notes:

And this marks the end of first arc events~
I'm super looking forward to the next arc as it dives into a few more topics, some of which are brushed on in these past few chapters, and adventures for Violet.

Thank you all for enduring this far ♥

Chapter 17: Dysfunctional Family

Summary:

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb

Something loud, like a mix between a base turned up way too high and someone performing an Irish tap dance that steadily grew louder by the second, sounded from above. What the heck? What was happening? Did everyone lose their minds? Was Dazai back with more of his psychedelic mushrooms? Or maybe the people above us were moving stuff at nine in the morning? The heck? I thought it was a storage place. Guess someone rented it out.

Regardless of the cause it was a rude awakening considering I could’ve slept for another ten hours. Shame. Might have to establish some boundary rules if they’re sticking around. Although what about me? Was I just going to chill in the infirmary for my time here? Sure it wasn’t terrible considering I didn’t have to pay rent or bills. Still, as the days turned to weeks it became more of a personal desire for my own space than formality.

Weeks? Gosh. Had that much time passed? Soon it’d be a month. An entire month. Crazy. Did that much time pass in my reality? Or was time frozen there? I hoped so or I’d come back to an apartment I no longer owned.

Although, at this rate, could I even get back? Talk about sobering. Yosano and the others were nice and all but I wanted my world. One where I belonged. Where I made a life for myself. Where I wouldn’t have to play charades to speak. Where ability users didn’t exist. Where my friends and family were…

Dang… Talk about homesickness. Maybe getting a place here wasn’t such a bad idea. I could decorate it like my apartment. Yet, how was I going to do that? I’d have to snag Yosano or Kunikida to help translate. Gosh. I hated apartment hunting before communication was pretty much impossible.

Still, I had time to think about my options. As of now my stomach quickly grew irritated that I wasn’t feeding it. Better get on that before it really starts to growl. At least the tap dancers finally stopped getting louder – albeit they didn’t stop which would’ve been much appreciated.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I shifted up on one elbow. The area by my stomach felt a bit chilly. A quick glance downward revealed a rather small indent in the sheets. Guess Natsume paying a visit last night wasn’t all a dream. He must’ve left a while ago considering how it only felt a tad warmer than the rest of the bed. Hopefully he’s safe wherever he is…

Nevertheless, the persistent thudding sound made me frown and look over in the direction it came from as I groaned wearily “What is that..?”

Sleep tried to pull me back but I was too far awake to let it. Compromising with a deep yawn, I sat up and slowly began the process of waking up enough to eat breakfast without dropping my face into it. Across the room, Yosano turned in her chair casually. Did she not notice the thudding? Was I hallucinating? Awesome. Maybe going back to sleep wasn’t such a bad idea…

“Good morning Violet,” she greeted with a smile, “Don’t worry, I’m sure it is nothing. Are you hungry?”

My stomach’s growl answered for me as if it couldn’t wait for my slow brain to form words. She chuckled, making my cheeks feel warm. Awesome. Now my body is working against me. Just great. Couldn’t have waited a bit longer? No? Guess patience lessons are in store for us today.

Another yawn shoved its way out of me, and with all these interruptions I figured a simple nod would suffice. Perhaps my body was just telling me to be a mute for now. Works for me. The less I had to think about the more I could focus on figuring out what to do next and how I was going to get an apartment. Although the consistent noise was not helping as my ears kept drifting back to it no matter how hard I tried.

What was it? I cocked my head. It sounded…familiar? Where did I hear it before? It was on the tip of my tongue…

“Alright, I will get something from the café,” Yosano stood and gathered her wallet, asking as she approached the door, “Fish or tofu?”

“Fish…” I yawned.

“Got it. I’ll be right back,” she waved and exited smoothly.

Impressed? I just managed to translate all that in one go. Sure it wasn’t poetry or advanced literature, but the progress made me happy. Although maybe it was just because they always said the same thing… Agh, whatever. I’m taking the win this time. That and the bathroom as my bladder made its presence known like it always did five seconds after I wake up.

Before I had a chance to touch the floor, the door opened and Yosano swiftly returned. What? She was gone for like ten seconds. I knew the café was good but not a miracle worker. Heck, not even as she only held a pack of crackers and what looked to be an already opened can of soda. If that wasn’t enough of a red flag, the person who quickly tailed her and closed the door certainly made up for it.

“Dazai?” I frowned. So now he shows himself? Gosh, why does that make me feel so much less reassured than I’m supposed to be?

“Ah, good morning Violet-chan. You’re looking better, that’s a relief,” he greeted softly.

Yeah cause the last time you probably saw me was after I- Oh. Crap. Right. Uhh, maybe not such a good idea to see him. Was he about to ask how I knew about Chuuya and drew Corruption? Gosh. What do I even say? Lying was out of the question cause he’d predict that a mile away. But the truth was terrifying. Although would he actually understand via picture talk and charades? Not a chance.

Ahhh. Both options sucked, and I still needed to pee so getting out had dual benefits.

Pulling away the covers, I scooted off my bed, taking a long knitted blanket with me. Not that I was still in those torn clothes. Gosh, no. Yosano long since threw them out. Only instead of giving me some of the other clothes I picked out, she made me wear a slightly more durable off-white hospital gown that came down to my knees and felt a little too big. Not exactly what I’d expect from a hospital in the states but rather suiting for Yosano’s clinic. Be that as it may, she kept the place fairly cold and it was not helping me fight off the chill – hence the blanket.

I got maybe three steps before they promptly stepped in front of me. Okay, I know I’m nowhere near any of them on an intellectual deductive level, but come on. This was practically waving a giant red flag in my face now. What was with them?

“What?” I growled. Not only were they being super sketch but I needed to pee asap and was getting very close to hangry.

Like the master interrogators and speakers they were, both merely glanced at each other before Dazai chuckled, “It is nothing. Just Kunikida-kun being weird. Don’t worry, we’ll protect you.”

From what? His ranting that I probably will never fully grasp? Please, if they dragged this out any longer I won’t be the one needing protection. All the more as he simpered and ruffled my hair. You know, it always looks cute when others do it. That is, until it happens to you. Then it’s just plain annoying and way less attractive; especially when you already have bedhead.

“Stop…!” I weakly demanded, clinging onto his hand and amounting to the efforts of a child trying to stop a grown adult. It sucked and was extremely embarrassing, especially as he continued. What’s with him? Forget not wanting to talk about Chuuya, I wanted to be away from him for my own sanity.

“Dazai! Quit it!” I protested, finally managing to stumble back. Jerk just stood there with a grin. Guess he was trying to keep me away. Damn. How could I miss how annoying he was?

Great. Now I know what Chuuya felt like. Understand why he wanted to torment him. Heck, might help him if we ever cross paths again. Falling for his plan sucked. Like it painted me some idiot or helpless puppet in his hands. All in all, very demeaning and not helping my mood.

“I’m sorry, Violet. But you must stay here,” Yosano explained mildly, offering the crackers and soda, “Here, just-”

“No!” I objected irately, nearly swatting them out of her hand. Both blinked in surprise. Yikes. Didn’t want to come off as that petty but still. What was with them? I wasn’t going to let them distract me, not when they were being so weird. Although I held an inkling what this was about… No.

Shaking my head I continued adamantly, “No. I don’t want it! I want to know why.”

That’s right. I didn’t care if I was playing the role of a stubborn brat after all they’ve done. Heck, once Fitzgerald came they’d hate me, so might as well get the fire started early. Not that I wanted to. But what could I do? They were keeping me here and I was hungry and angry and needed the restroom and, and…!

They felt like Mori and Port Mafia right now.

I know. Completely different, but my mind was drawing the connections. And it sucked because I knew they weren’t them. But I couldn’t shake the rising nerves. Guess I wasn’t fully over that nightmare. They always did say that emotional scars take the longest to heal. Odd seeing as up until that point I didn’t even realize I bore them.

Either way, their silence was like salt to my wounds and I wasn’t having it. If they weren’t going to spill, then I’d find out myself. Heck, like I even cared. All I wanted was the bathroom. Like I said I didn’t want to burden them, but if they kept being difficult then they left me no choice.

Despite that resolve, getting past them was an entirely different matter. Yosano was one thing, but Dazai could predict my moves before I knew them. This wasn’t going to be easy. But if I timed it right…

Without wasting a second so my mind could catch up to veto the insane idea, I threw the blanket at their heads and bolted. Yosano gave a startled gasp, almost enough to make me cringe to the point of stopping. Nonetheless, adrenaline fueled me forward. Not to mention the fact that I was screwed when she caught me. Forget sitting in the corner, she’d lob my arm off. Only once if I’m lucky.

All in all, more than enough motivation to get out asap. Unfortunately, like I suspected, Dazai saw through my diversion. Right as my fingers brushed the doorknob, my collar grew taut around my neck as a firm hand tugged me nearly off my feet. Pain seared my skin and I instinctively thrashed in efforts to get away.

It was only when the fabric tore a little did my actions mellow, Dazai speaking with a dry smile something probably teasing but the words went over my head. Usually he’d be careful to keep things simple so I could at least grasp his meaning. That just goes to show how affected Dazai was from my rebellion, not to mention those lightless eyes that spelled nothing good. Still, if he thought I was some scruffed kitten, he had another thing coming.

Spinning around, I made a wide arc with my hand, giving him two choices: stay still and get clawed, or let go. To my mild satisfaction, he chose the latter. It was freaking awesome and made all those hours in self-defense class completely worth it. Never thought that I’d use it on someone so soon, let alone Dazai Osamu…

Oh whatever. I could mull about it later. I had three seconds to bolt or all that wouldn’t matter.

Turning I threw open the door and wasted no time in dashing out it. So much for getting grounded by them. Although the punishment to come was going to be hell now that Dazai was involved. Yeesh. Whatever those two twisted minds could come up with, I didn’t want to know so I focused instead on reaching the bathroom and locking myself in it for as long as my stomach would allow. Should’ve probably accepted Yosano’s offer while I had the chance. Eh. Live and learn.

I say like they’d actually let me as the next second slammed the breaks on everything.

“Violet, don’t!”

What? The deathly urgency in Yosano’s voice seemed to stop time or at least me. Urgency? No. That’s not it. That was something far more familiar. Something I knew all too well from the days I spent in hell. Fear. For me. Something that explained Dazai’s persistent teasing all too well.

Why? What was with them? Why were they so afraid? What could even prompt that in people like them?

From the corner of my eyes, a pale yellow form began emerging from the hallway leading to Fukuzawa’s office. I didn’t have time to dwell on it as, in a flash, a pair of hands tugged me into a firm chest that nearly disappeared when something covered me. My cheek pressed into a familiar bolo tie – arms sandwiched between my body and Dazai’s as he squeezed me so close I could barely breathe.

All of the sudden my stupor broke as I realized we were pressed completely together with his coat and the blanket serving as some makeshift shroud. His scent grew overpowering in seconds, and I felt each slight shift in his posture like electricity on my skin – skin barely concealed by the small gown Yosano gave me that bunched up in the chaos. Skin that brushed intimately against his form.

My face felt like I’d lit it on fire and I very quickly forgot my bladder’s dilemma. Sure, many fangirls would kill for this, but all that filled me was mortifying embarrassment. Somehow I knew he saw through all those times I crushed on him in the past. It was horrible timing, and I would’ve fallen if he wasn’t holding me so tight.

Something within me must’ve snapped back into place as a rush of energy filled me, finally allowing me to suck in a breath and push at him, demanding in a weak voice, “L-Let go!”

I must’ve appeared like an idiot as I squirmed in his arms – only making things worse as I rubbed against him. Gosh. Could this get any less mortifying?  Why wasn’t anyone saying anything? Why was he doing this? I shoved at his chest vainly, all lessons vanishing in my shock. While we hugged before, this was entirely different. And whether it was his arms, coat, the blanket or something else I struggled to breathe in the suffocatingly warm air.

“D-Dazai…!” I demanded in a meek voice that his hush easily overpowered.

“Quiet. Don’t move.”

His terse words and emotionless tone easily switched something within me into obeying. It was weird, like mind control. Or maybe fear? He did torture a ton of people, and while this was probably not the same, I shivered at the prospect. Why was he so serious? Was this because I was trying to escape and threw a blanket in his face? But why stop me? What did he not want me to see? Or… I found myself gripping his vest as I glanced leftwards where a silhouette appeared vaguely in the light beyond his coat and the blanket. 

Who was he trying to hide me from?

“Oh?”

His voice was muffled by layers of fabric and Dazai’s chest pressing against one of my ears, but not even that could disguise it enough. My heart plummeted. That’s right. The thudding noise. It wasn’t noisy neighbors. It was a helicopter. And tied with everyone acting weird? I was an idiot. Of course. This is when he showed up. The man who placed a bounty on Atsushi’s head. The one who would nearly destroy Yokohama. The one who I shared a last name with. F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Oh gosh. If they didn’t suspect me before, they sure as hell would now. How was I supposed to dodge the fact that not only did we have the same surname but also held similar traits? Not personality, hopefully, but in that we were both white, both American, both had blonde hair... Oh gosh. They’re going to think we’re related and oh gosh…

My throat felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. Ironically enough, Dazai’s grip finally felt weak as I dug my nails into his shirt and vest. Despite my best efforts I shook as they exchanged soft words lost to the panic in my ears. Any second now he was going to leave and they were going to throw me aside. After everything… Why? Why was this the end?

I bit my lip to keep from whimpering as I felt tears sting at my eyes. It wasn’t fair. I survived so much. Why did things have to get better before tearing the rug out from under me once more? Did this reality hate me? Because I didn’t belong here? Was that cloaked guy right? Was I some child of misfortune hated by the world itself?

God. Why did this have to happen? Why did Fitzgerald have to come in so soon? Would I never experience those warm peaceful days again?

It wasn’t fair.

Dazai shifting snatched me from my despair, making me gasp into his chest as Fitzgerald said his goodbyes before the sound of his footsteps drew away. Kenji’s voice vaguely drifted over. Kenji. Oh gosh. He was about to be caught by Lucy’s ability. What would they do once they found out? Would that get them to finally snap and throw me in some cell or tie me up?

“Don’t worry, Violet. I promise, we’ll never hurt you.”

Yosano’s vow suddenly felt hollow in the wake of Fitzgerald’s threat. Guess we were all going to find out how much their word amounted to. No. Scratch that. More like they were going to find out. As for me, I wasn’t moving an inch. If this was to be the last time I could safely be with them, I was clinging on as stubbornly as I could. Funny how things changed so quickly…

A rush of cool air surrounded me, swiftly followed by harsh light that I blocked out by slamming my eyes shut. I could feel their stares and silent screaming questions. But like hell was I moving or facing them. No. Not yet. I refused.

Dazai shifted his hands. Oddly enough he didn’t shove me away. Instead they repositioned themselves around my lower back and against my head like a comforting embrace. He probably thought I was terrified or triggered and wanted to comfort me.

Ironic in that his actions only triggered me further into hysteria as a whimper escaped my lips and the tears I fought to hold back suddenly burst out. I hated it. I hated crying in front of them, especially after this. I should’ve held firm. Should’ve put on a mask like Dazai and pretended everything was okay. But his tender touch, intentioned or not, shattered any thought of that.

He was being so nice – they all were. And to who? Me? Someone who very clearly presented a threat to them? Someone who they probably harbored suspicions of betrayal? It hurt like hell, far worse than anything Port Mafia could’ve done and Mori’s brutal treatment. I deserved to be thrown aside and cast away. That would’ve been so much easier to handle than his warm embrace and gentle words.

“It’s okay… It’s okay…” Dazai’s voice reverberated through me kindly, only making my whimpers turn into hiccupped sobs as I buried my face into his chest and wrapped my arms around him. I was probably making a mess of his clothes but didn’t care as his voice soothed, “I’ve got you. You are going to be okay.”

I should’ve been ecstatic that I understood his every word clearly, but all it did was fill me with more sorrow. Was I? Was I really going to be okay? Could he even say that with what awaited us?

I didn’t know. All I could do was cry and shake in his arms as the impending doom loomed over the horizon. The city was about to go to war.

And thanks to my very existence, no one was safe.

 

…

 

Eyes bore into him from across the hall, only instead of familiar scrutiny they wavered in concern and sorrow. Their grief was mostly an illusion. None of them were hurt. None were in danger. No one lost anything. And yet the sobs dampening his chest and nails curling into the sides of his waistcoat were so potent and raw he found even his chest tighten.

Dazai held the blonde close, humming a soft melody in hopes it would soothe her like it did him all those years ago. He did not fully understand what prompted such heartbreaking cries into his chest, but he held a fairly good idea.

F. Scott Fitzgerald. The leader of the Guild. The man who just threatened to destroy them.

The very person who shared her last name.

Sure, that did not necessarily mean they were family, but the way she reacted made the possibility more likely. They had to have known each other. Why else would she give such a violent reaction? And yet…

His eyes narrowed. Was that really the case? Or did she simply know him like she knew Chuuya? If so, were these tears not out of fear of Fitzgerald but them? Was she afraid of them assuming she was related to him? That she might be their enemy?

A small smile lit his features as he stifled a chuckle, petting her soft hair comfortingly. Have you forgotten already? Or do you really have so little faith in us? Although, after everything, can we really blame you?

As if sensing his calm, Violet’s muffled cries began to die down. Her small hands loosened their grip, leaving her to lean fully into him. She sniffed and refused to open her red, puffy eyes, but turned to breathe in cool, fresh air. In any other situation he would say something suggestive or teasing at how she clung to him, but even if she could understand such words, he felt them die down before they reached his throat.

Instead, he rocked her back and forth until her breathing started to even at last. Pressing her head against his chest, he murmured, “It’s alright… It’s alright… We won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Dazai glanced up into the gazes of Kunikida, Tanizaki, and Atsushi, the teen having been pulled into the other room for his protection per his and the blonde’s quick thinking and Tanizaki’s ability for extra precaution. Sure, going to Violet was a stretch, but it appeared to pay off. Who knew what would’ve happened if she encountered that man? Perhaps not as bad as the conflict should Atsushi stand before him, yet he relented.

They made it out alive. That’s all that mattered. Sure, there were a few scars and unease, but those would eventually heal like all wounds. Even then, they would testify to their vibrant lives in the future – serving as a reminder of their endurance and strength. Something Violet certainly possessed if anything else.

Kunikida held his gaze, a lingering irritation sparking in his eyes fading as he turned and headed toward Fukuzawa’s office. He left them in silence; Atsushi, Tanizaki, Kyouka, and Yosano glancing through the doorways on either side of the two figures rocking back and forth rhythmically on their heels.

Questions lingered, yet no one held the will to disrupt the fragile calm. Who was Violet? What was her connection to Fitzgerald and the Guild – if any? And what about the other night – the one in which she drew that disquieting picture? A picture of someone, of something she should not know of.

Dazai sighed, suddenly weary and laying his cheek on top of her head. It looked like his pile of work just tripled in size. If only it could’ve waited a little bit longer. Maybe then he’d be able to decipher this young woman if only to keep her protected from things he didn’t know threatened her or not.

For now, however, he let his eyes partially close as he breathed in her lavender scent, letting it linger and coil around him as their hearts pressed so close together they gradually began beating in sync.

Notes:

Guess who just watched Dead Apple 10 billion times and still wants to marathon it the entire day? Such an amazing movie and so many little Easter eggs and I can't wait for season 3 ♥ If you haven't watched it, try kissanime or gogoanime and enjoy the wonderful movie that will play a role later on in this work c;

As for this series, finally getting into season 2 material which plays a major part in Violet's story as I'm sure some of you gathered already, especially from this chapter. This is where things do begin changing, so I will do my best to keep a fluid story.

Thank you all for the support and have a nice week!

Chapter 18: Saudade

Summary:

We always long for better days, peaceful respites before the looming clouds on the horizon block out the sun.

“Here we are,” Yosano opened the door, allowing the young blonde behind her to peer in curiously as she continued, “It isn’t much, but it is better than sleeping in the Agency’s infirmary night after night.”

Violet clung to the back of her blouse like a child anxious to explore but unsure if they should leave their parent’s side, nearly making the doctor chuckle as she reassured warmly, “Go on. It’s a lot more interesting on the inside.”

Whether she understood or not, Violet entered the modest lodging with a noticeable spark of awe in her eyes as she asked, “Yosano’s…home?”

“Yes,” the named answered, taking off her shoes and placing her bag on the kitchen counter. Violet blinked at her action, a self-conscious blush painting her cheeks as she hastily took her sandals off and placed them beside the doctor’s heels before continuing her exploration like a cat.

Yosano watched with a small smile. She knew agreeing to host Violet would be interesting, but her cat-like curiosity in scanning everything in the small living room like it was an alien ship was something else. Was it really that interesting? Dazai informed them that after their escape she stayed in his guestroom, so surely this wasn’t her first time seeing tatami mats and sofas. Although, to be fair, she was feverish at the time and probably didn’t remember much other than a blur.

She could only pray that her stay would be peaceful for the short time it lasted. After their stressful morning, it took nearly an hour for them to calm Violet down enough to release her grip on Dazai. The man, while looking just as weary as her, went on to suggest that leaving the blonde there for the night, even guarded, was not a good idea. Even if he assumed her a bad habit of the bandaged agent, Fitzgerald’s threat was nothing to be taken lightly – especially when it involved more than Atsushi alone.

Fitzgerald. Yosano frowned, trying to put on a neutral expression so as not to alarm the intuitive woman who now began poking at the plants on her windowsill. Violet’s last name was Fitzgerald. Sure, Dazai and Ranpo both argued it could be coincidence, but then why did she react so violently? She had to have known him. If not, then why? Could she have predicted his threatening? Or…

Did she know what his threat would lead to?

It would certainly explain her dreary expression not even interacting with Kyouka, Haruno, Naomi, and the other secretaries could heal. Something her apartment oddly held the remedy for. It was relieving but bothersome at the same time. How long would it last? And if she couldn’t vent it to anyone with words, how would she cope? Was that why she had so many panic attacks? Were they simply out of an inability to verbally express her fears and anxieties?

Yosano sighed, sending a silent prayer for her wellbeing. While not opposed to the idea of a roommate, she hoped that one day Violet would learn enough of their language to live out her life independently. She certainly held the whit and initiative. Wonder what she would be like with the capacity to say what she wanted to say and fully understand them? It was a nice thought – a warm light to pursue in the darkness that loomed over the horizon.

A darkness that threatened her just as much as them, perhaps more so now with not only the threat of her enemies taking advantage of her ability but the shadow of the Guild’s leader as well. Whether or not either held actual substance, she had a long road to living the normal life she deserved. She wondered if Violet was bothered by such.... Although based on her childlike awe staring out her window into the lights below, probably not presently.

“Pretty…” Violet murmured in a way that made the doctor hesitant to believe she saw the same mundane city lights that she did upon glancing outside. Or perhaps the blonde simply held that elusive wonder that inevitably disappeared with time. Perhaps like Kenji, she too came from a rustic town.

She hoped it would linger a while longer for her sake.

“Yes, it is,” Yosano agreed warmly, pausing to stare out into the darkness broken by shards of yellow, orange, and blue light. A calm rested over them, only broken by hunger’s faint calls.

Standing, the doctor approached her kitchen, feeling an urge to give the blonde a home cooked meal after weeks of take-out, “So Violet, do you like Italian food?”

 

…

 

Yosano’s place was nice. Not completely what my mind whipped up, but all in all nice. It held subtle notes of personality in the plants and cool-colored décor, but not overwhelming or borderline-packrat. Not to say it was bland. Not at all. If anything it fit her perfectly. I mean, if you’re not going to be at home all that often, might as well cut decoration costs down.

All in all, committing every detail to memory like the crazed fan I was actually helped in a way. For once since that dreadful morning I managed not to think about Fitzgerald and Kenji and the horror that awaited and just bask in the fact I was in Yosano’s apartment. If anything, it seemed to at least entertain her while she cooked and prepared a guestroom for me.

After nearly a month of odd sleeping arrangements varying from my cot in the infirmary to Port Mafian dungeon floors to Dazai’s guestroom futon, the newest one to greet me did not spark much hope. I mean, how long was I honestly staying here? When the Guild attacked we’d relocate to that hall. Would they actually leave me here? Doubtful unless they wanted to throw me to the wolves.

Still, as much as my guilt tried to convince me, I couldn’t paint the Agency that way. Not now, at least. I mean, no. They were good people but… Good people aren’t perfect. If you apply the right pressure, anyone can fall. It isn’t callous, cynical truth, just an observation of some of the greats that fell in my world. The only question was: would they fall too?

And if so, when?

Ahhh. All these morbid thoughts are making me hungry. What? I mean not really but if anything was going to perk me up it was watching Yosano cook. The girl’s food wasn’t terrible only that it was clear her profession lied in dissections and surgery over culinary techniques.

Strange though… I’d expect nothing less in Dazai’s place, but here…? It was very quiet. Was she sleeping still? What time was it? Ten? Dang I really slept in. And yes, that is sleeping in for someone who chronically wakes up at 8 or earlier for work. Maybe all this time away was changing my sleeping patterns? That or the vacation vibe was setting in. Yeah. Some vacation. Beats Vegas I suppose.

“Yosano?” I peered around the door. Nothing. Just an empty living room and kitchen. Soft light borderlined harsh as the sun climbed the sky.

No response came, not even as I tiptoed into the area. Don’t know why, just felt the need to be quiet. Maybe nerves? Or perhaps the knowledge of what this day brought. Gosh… Where was Yosano? I knew she wasn’t captured by Lucy, but even then… What if my presence affected that? What if she was originally staying the night at the Agency and her actions in bringing me here made her cross paths with the red head? Oh gosh. I mean, Atsushi should be able to save her. Unless they decided to stay in the Agency until further notice. Oh gosh. Oh gosh…

I needed to- No. No, no, no. Jumping out dramatically was fun to watch but it always ended in trouble. Something I did not need. No. I’m not falling for it. But… Oh there it is. That dangerous word. “But”. The downfall of many. Maybe because it always felt right? Who knows? All I knew was that it was tormenting me now.

But what about the Agency? What about Kenji? And the timeline? What if staying here was actually a bad thing? What if they really were staying inside? What if? What if? And there goes the second doomsday statement. Hopefully Dazai’s luck brushed off on me earlier, cause the way things were heading I’d need all the luck I could get.

Wasting no time, I darted to the doorway and pulled on my shoes. Okay, a little hasty. Should’ve probably checked her room or lingered a little in case she was out for only a little bit. But my nerves were screaming. The mere idea of sitting in the apartment alone with my thoughts nearly shoved me into a panic attack. My odds, as slim as they were, appeared better out there. At the very least I could check up on them…

But what if Yosano came back? And the deadly combo strikes again. What if she did return and I wasn’t here? Would she freak? Probably. I think they still thought I’d bolt if they let me out of sight. Shame considering all I wanted was to stay by their side. Guess that was why I continued forward nonetheless. What? I left a note. Well, a hastily drawn picture on one of her paper napkins. It would suffice. Hopefully.

I leapt downstairs faster than I should’ve and may have used up all that luck in not face-planting. Looked like it as once the street came into view I had no idea where to go. Probably should’ve paid better attention to Yosano’s path when she brought us here. Ahhh. Now what? I could picture the Agency clearly, and sure, wandering around that time helped, but I had no idea-

Wait. No. I did have an idea. One that, ironically, Port Mafia could assist in. No. Not going in and asking Mori for directions. Like I said, once is more than enough for this kid. I held no intentions of returning to that hellhole. However, it would help in finding the Agency. How? Well, because after looking out the window and on top of the building for so long, I remembered one good thing: the Port Mafia towers rose in the northeast. A direction that put them a little too far behind me. 

So if that was east, then I needed to go back a little and then head south. Right? Hopefully this doesn’t end up with me lost. I took a course on survival skills in the wild. Never thought they’d apply to a city like this. Although as far as cities go this one was a jungle full of beasts.

One of which I stumbled directly in their path – and no, unfortunately not our resident white bundle of fluff. More like a viper cloaked in green and sickeningly familiar. I knew them. Well, sort of. I knew who they were but not their name or much else. Never really got the chance considering they died within the first two scenes they appeared in.

All the reason to steer very clear from the Guild’s assassin or whoever that green guy who followed Fitzgerald and Lucy into the Agency was. The one who was sent to challenge the Mafia, and then beaten into the ground literally.

The one who stared at me in not a good way. Crap. Should’ve expected as much given my luck. Still, the way he frowned and tilted his head threw me off. Why did it feel like he recognized me? While I knew him, he certainly didn’t know me. Fitzgerald didn’t have the Eyes of God quite yet.

So why? Did he think I was someone else – someone from the Mafia? Maybe Higuichi? Or… Gosh. Don’t tell me…Elise? Oh come on. We’re both blonde, but really? She’s like eternally ten. I know I looked a bit younger for my age but please. Were they really that dense? Or-? Wait.

The guy suddenly shifted forward. In all honesty it was nothing more than an innocent action of shifting feet. He probably put too much weight on one and wanted to balance it out. Be that as it may, in the eyes of a girl whose nerves are already seconds from breaking apart, he might as well pull out a gun. Would’ve helped as I turned and bolted like my life depended on it. I mean, if he did think I was a part of the Mafia, than it very well did. Not to mention Chuuya and the Black Lizard and half the Mafia were about to meet with him.

All the motivation I needed to put as much space between us as possible.

“Ah, wait!”

Seriously? Wait? That’s his masterplan? Play the nice guy and act concerned? Might’ve worked if I was blissfully ignorant. Although that knowledge did just help me out now… Agh, whatever. Not stopping. Not waiting. Waste of effort despite the good intentions, my good assassin sir.

Darting down an alleyway, my mind instinctively went into confuse the crap out of the pursuer and lose them around corners. Good idea to escape. Bad idea considering it only threw off my own sense of direction. Finding the Agency was going to be even more difficult now. Even with my epiphany of using Port Mafia’s towers, it was going to be a miracle if I made it there….

Ah, I should’ve stayed at Yosano’s. Why the heck did I think this was a good idea? Last time I got lost I ended up in Port Mafia. That should’ve been all the reason to stay in bed. Too little too late now. Hopefully things would end differently and not in the Guild catching me.

A small ray of light came in that I was faster than the guy. Was everyone here just slow? Well, maybe not Chuuya, but so far I’d been able to outrun most people. Sure, I ran track for two years, but that was long distance and as a rather side sport to swimming. Maybe city life just slowed them down? But then I was on bed rest for like a month. So why? I know, other times to mull about this that didn’t involve being pursued by a killer. But they were honestly good ones.

Good enough to distract me from the lack of footsteps behind me. What? Did I lose him? Against better logic to keep running until I actually reached a safe place, I turned. Not stopped. Turned. My feet were still moving in a half jog, so not exactly stereotypical stupid move that landed me in more trouble. Not that bad. Although it did, in a roundabout way, pay off for something.

Without warning, my toes collided with something immovable by my strength’s standards. More than enough to pull my feet from beneath me and send me crashing on a set of stairs. Owwww. My knees and arms throbbed as they rudely met the concrete. Bruises were definitely on the way. Should’ve stayed in bed. Should’ve stayed at Yosano’s. Ahhh. Regret is real. Even if it ended up on the steps of…the Agency?

What? How? As crap as my direction was, landing here was impossible. Maybe a stroke of luck? Or was that why he stopped? Because I was getting too close to the Agency? Did he realize I wasn’t Elise? Or was he waiting in the shadows? Oh, crap. If he was here, did that mean he was going to live? Was I going to have to kill him now to preserve the storyline? Oh gosh. Could I even do that? He was just a character and meant to die and oh my gosh that was morbid please don’t think I’m a murderer it’s just reflex and nerves and I needed out pronto.

Lucky me, an escape rested just two floors above. Ignoring the protests of my arms and knees, I pushed up and stumbled the last stretch. All this endurance was surprising. While marathons were one thing, I never thought I’d be able to push myself this far. Yes. It wasn’t a mortal injury, but even then I was a normal girl, not some anime character despite the roundabout way I kinda was now. At any rate, I suppose I was becoming one. That or adrenaline was more potent than I thought. Maybe I should write my thesis on it? Or perhaps the mania of lack of communication? Maybe if we considered alternative methods a lot of disorders and afflictions would be cured… Hmmm… Never thought I’d find such a good idea here.

Either way, that could wait for a time I could actually sit down and type it out. Do you think the paper would come back with me? Hopefully. It’d be my luck to write a bomb report only to lose it and have to remake a crappier version that simply didn’t amount to the first’s glory. But, like I said, for another time.

Halfway through climbing (or rather pulling myself) upstairs, something weird happened. Okay, kinda a norm here, but even then this was weird for this place. Although I’m not even sure it was real. After all the panic it may have just been a hallucination, but for a second I could’ve sworn time hiccupped. Like it forgot how long a second was and in its stupor dragged it out. I don’t know how to explain it but in that moment everything grew heavy. Like time itself nearly collapsed and transferred all its weight onto my shoulders. Not the brightest idea. Sure stamina may have improved but I could still barely carry someone for more than a couple of steps.

This only lasted maybe a few seconds, but it disoriented me enough that I collapsed – angering my knees into heaping scathing remarks my way. What just happened? I faintly registered that I was shaking. What was that? Did time stop? Why? How? No one-

No. There was someone. Only this was a side-effect of her ability. Which meant that right now they were in there with him and…

“Violet-chan?”

Dazai stared at me from above, his form flanked by Fukuzawa and Kunikida – latter of which pressing a phone to his ear. They looked like they just saw a ghost. Did they feel that weirdness too? Or maybe they were surprised to see me? My mind was too jumbled to tell, and it was all I could do to murmur his name in a somewhat shaky voice. Whatever was happening I felt a whole hell of a lot safer with Dazai around.

Pushing up, I climbed the remaining stairs until meeting him a little over halfway. Along the way Kunikida murmured something in the phone. I think he was saying I was safe? To who? Yosano? Oh gosh, she must’ve returned and freaked. I left her a note, so shouldn’t that count for something?

Dazai’s arms steadied me when dizziness threatened to send me downstairs. And for once I managed to fight the urge to cry. Or so I thought before he promptly bopped my head with enough pressure it hurt but delicately enough that I didn’t pass out. Ouch. What the heck was that for? I frowned up at him, only to falter at his stern expression. Oops. Guess I upset him? For leaving? But I was alright, so why-?

“Do not do that again,” he spoke in a very un-Dazai-like voice. It failed to reassure in the slightest and only left me worried for him. Still, like the enigma he was, he quickly added with a wry smirk – or at least a calculated attempt of one.

“You worried Kunikida-kun.”

The blonde frowned before huffing and returning inside the Agency, still talking to, I believe, Yosano over the phone. Fukuzawa lingered a little longer before joining him. Leaving just us two and my throbbing head. For someone who supposedly was poor in martial arts he really knew how to smack someone. Enough to catch me off-guard long enough to realize we were alone.

A perfect chance for some questions. Questions I feared more than the assassin guy at this point.

Whether Dazai saw this or not, he remained silent and just stared at me for a moment longer until offering a hand, “Come on, Violet-chan. Let me get you something to eat.”

He wasn’t going to ask me anything? Why? Guess the Guild presented more of an issue at the moment than how I knew Chuuya, but even then… Was something bothering him? Apparently I worried Kunikida. But was he also worried? Dazai? Genuinely worried? No way. It was an act…

Right?

He made no sound or indication of having read my mind, instead reaching and grabbing my hand when I didn’t respond fast enough. Gently he tugged me forward into the office. It was like an out-of-body experience. I felt him and everything but at the same time it didn’t feel real. It was weird. And I don’t remember much of what happened after that. Shock maybe? Or lingering effects of Lucy’s time stop?

Whenever I look back on that moment all I can recall is his hand wrapped around mine and the memory of seeing Kyouka running out below.

I prayed she held better luck than I in finding what she needed.

Notes:

I'm 99% certain that if I ever got thrown into any series I adore, half the time I spend would be marveling and nitpicking everyone's homes and those special places mentioned but not nearly explored enough for my curiosity.

Anyways, I planned on writing about Dazai and Fitzgerald's conversation in the previous but decided against it for reasons I can't remember. But for cassjo's comment I added a little snipit of what exactly the Guild's leader thought when he saw Dazai holding a figure wrapped in his coat and a blanket just outside an infirmary with beds. Yeah, very suggestive Dazai but hey, good distraction from the shivering girl in your arms who only released you when she remembered she had to pee.

Hope you all enjoy and have a nice week ♥

Chapter 19: Before the Petals Fall

Summary:

A flower's beauty is a double edged sword: captivating many including those that cut off its source of life.

“You want to send her away?”

A frown cut across Yosano’s features. Not out of confusion or pain, but concern. Some part of her knew the idea rang true and was the best option – and not just because of its source. No. Sending her away to safety was their duty. And yet…

“But she only just grew accustomed to my apartment. I understand what you are saying, but constantly changing her environment will not aid in her recovery,” Yosano argued under her breath, shooting a fleeting glance at the golden locks drifting in and out of view from behind one of the numerous cherry blossom trees surrounding them.

About a week passed since she brought Violet to her apartment, and while the first morning was eventful in more than one aspect, the young woman managed very well in adjusting to her new surroundings to the point Yosano was able to leave her alone for a few hours without receiving a call from the Agency. But was that because she didn’t see anything? The doctor frowned, recalling how she wound up treating Kyouka’s panic attack when she, Atsushi, and the Tanizaki siblings returned.

Was that why Violet ran to the Agency? To warn them about it? Or was she truly just distressed to be alone?

Yosano exhaled. What she wouldn’t give for five minutes of clear communication with the woman…

“That may be so. But if she remains she may face more than emotional and psychological trauma,” Dazai murmured ominously.

He was right. The leader of Port Mafia was bold enough to wander about on his own. Not to mention Fitzgerald’s declaration of war… Even if Violet played no part, she was in graver danger of getting caught in the crossfire here than in a safe house far away.

Still…

“If she stays here, we cannot guarantee her safety or survival,” Dazai spoke sternly, seeing through her rising rebuttal, “The Guild’s move sparked a conflict that will escalate into an all-out war between not just two but three ability organizations. And ability-user or not, keeping her here will only bring her closer to death.”

“And what if her presence endangers the others? What if there is no safe zone for her?” Yosano argued, hating how it sounded as if she accused the young woman of something she couldn’t possibly control. Sure, Atsushi was one thing – he could fight back. But Violet?

“If Port Mafia really knows about her ability, then they will certainly target her regardless if that means capturing her or killing her. If we send her away with the others and they’re found, we may walk in on the remains of a massacre.”

Dazai frowned. Her point was valid. The ability of prophecy… It certainly warranted a death sentence – especially if it threatened the Mafia. But would that man go to such extremes? If he truly wanted her dead, then why heal her? Unless he desired that ability for his own… Even then, that would not spare the others. Still…

“As it stands, the probability of that is not enough to worry about at the present moment,” he at last replied in a level voice, adding upon Yosano’s move to argue, “When it rises to concerning levels, we will bring her back, or at the very least to an isolated safe house.”

“Isolated?” she echoed barely above a growl, “She can’t survive on her own yet. She has improved, I will give you that much, but she is still far from living independent-”

“She will be fine,” he cut her off tersely. “She survived for at least three days on the streets and then a week inside Port Mafia’s dungeons. She’s a smart girl, and far from helpless. She will be fine.”

Taking a breath, he finished softly, suddenly looking weary to the extent her anger dissipated to silent concern he would pass out, “If we keep her here, she will undoubtedly cross paths with him again – that man who made her cry and tremble so badly after merely hearing his voice. What will she do if she actually sees him? If he touches her? No. If we truly care about Violet-chan’s safety, we must send her away until this storm blows over.”

Yosano frowned, “I don’t agree. Shielding her from her demons is kind, but it will only harm her in the future. She must face them eventually, and I’d rather that happen with us by her side. Still, we can discuss what to do with the others.”

He nodded, seemingly content with letting the topic end there as she sighed and followed his gaze toward the flowing golden locks, “Although, whether Violet herself agrees to staying or going… I guess we will just have to wait and see what happens…”

A warm breeze painted with off-pink petals covered the words from Dazai’s slightly parted lips. His voice melted into the melody of the trees, lake, and bird song. Floral, sweet scent filled the air and time seemed to slow. Unlike last time, however, no nausea followed. Only a calm serenity that felt like a comforting blanket. Or maybe a nice cool drink in this heat.

Who would’ve thought Japan could get this hot? Not exactly up to Florida standards, but much more than I expected. Always thought it was higher up on the globe… Maybe the fact that it was literally on the other side of the Earth plays a factor in that? Was that why our cultures were so different? To the point our languages and writing were completely juxtaposed against each other?

Well, at first glance it would seem. After picking up a few things, the contrast began to blur. Case in point: how I knew they were talking about me. Or at least strongly assumed. Although that was mainly because they kept glancing my way. So perhaps the better reason was visual and context clues rather than languages merging?

It didn’t matter. Very few topics could pester them to the point they discussed it in hushed voices, any of which I didn’t want to presently think about. Not when everything felt so calm for once. For all I knew, this was the last respite before the war began and I wanted to savor every last second.

Lord knows I needed it, especially after Atsushi practically carried Kyouka back.

The poor girl suffered a panic attack, no doubt because of Mori. Can’t blame the girl. They literally dodged Death. Anyone sane would do the same.

Sanity. It was a miracle I still held onto it. Guess I have my sketchbook and Yosano to thank. After that rough day, she let me stay at her place and even let me watch a movie marathon by myself while she went to work. It was a weirdly addicting drama about two lovers who exchanged letters. Romance isn’t really my go-to, but this one was good. Enough so that I grasped the story without needing to fully understand what they were saying and add their drawings to the myriad of sketches filling the pages.

Sketches that held no meaning other than objects of my fascination – most recent a rather good picture of the cherry blossoms and quaint park they chose to stop at. It was by far no means a masterpiece, but it was better than my previous ones. Maybe I really was on the road to becoming an artist…

If that was the case, then I wanted to continue drawing this wonderful world before darkness came. I wanted to preserve these moments, to make a record of them for the hard times to come. To inspire hope. To motivate positivity and the will to continue. To help others.

To help the people I loved in this city.

A city that would soon fall in flames.

I wanted to prevent that, but doing so may only bring it to destruction it couldn’t come back from. Even under the best intentions, stepping on that butterfly would cause irreparable damage. In that regard, was it right to stay here when the war started? My heart leapt forward, determined to stay with the others through thick and thin. And yet my mind said no. Logically my presence was their bane. I would only hinder them, thus the best move was to go.

So why did it hurt so bad to think of that? I truly cared about all of them, but was it more than that? Was my own selfishness to witness these events with my own two eyes getting in the way? Was I willing to risk their lives to witness something that may end up scarring me or worse?

And there goes the peace. Ah… That’s why they say savor it while it lasts and don’t think too hard…

At least the petals still fell in rhythmical motions and swirls. Like tiny dancers on the wind lulling any observer into a tranquil daze…

“Flowers scattering… It remains an enthralling sight to behold indeed…”

You know those voices that are like a splash of Artic water? Splash? No, scratch that. More like a plunge. And if anyone held that title, Mori certainly did.

It was like my lungs forgot their purpose and all that warm, sleepiness disappeared instantly. My head shot up so fast I’m surprised I didn’t pull a muscle.

How was he here? We couldn’t possibly pick the same park as them. My luck was rancid, no doubt about that, but come on. No. This wasn’t happening. Not because of denial. No, I wasn’t kidding myself there. However, the lack of any tension from Dazai and Yosano was clear enough that this couldn’t be real.

That and the fact that instead of the tree, Kouyou stood right behind me.

She was beautiful – the picture of traditional Japanese royalty. Or perhaps a geisha. Many stories I read depicted her role in Port Mafia as a rather promiscuous one, and while not off given their roles in Japanese society, I felt she was different. I don’t remember what she did, but under that solemn gaze, assassin felt about right. I mean, that’s what Kyouka did, right? And I think I recall her saying something about an interrogation squad? Or was that Dazai?

“Kouyou-kun…” Everything suddenly glitched, shifting our surroundings disorientingly as the two powerful figures stood facing each other with me a little outside of between them.

“You wish to spare that girl. Why?” Mori’s voice echoed uncannily, sending ripples of images through the sky behind them. Images that devoured the horizon and were chillingly similar to the black hole I fell in.

The one that ended with Chuuya’s Corruption devouring me.

If this was the same place, then what awaited me at the end this time?

Once mesmerizing petals now floated eerily around us as their words blurred in wake of images of Kyouka and Atsushi and Kouyou. Images of the past, of Kyouka’s demon and parents and their tragic death. Of Kouyou’s failed escape and meeting Chuuya and Kyouka. Of Kyouka’s first mission. Of the trouble to come.

Like before they steadily gained momentum until pinnacling as Kouyou at last replied, “A flower of darkness may only survive in darkness. The light will only burn her.”

Flower of darkness? No that wasn’t right. Maybe before, but not now…

“Very well…” Mori spoke with a sly smile. Wait. Was this when he agreed to spare Kyouka? How was I seeing this? This wasn’t a part of the anime or manga. So how…?

“You may retrieve that flower alongside any other you might stumble across.”

His words were chilling but nothing compared to the ice in my veins as he looked directly at me. I mean, not really. It wasn’t like he could see me, right? But that piercing gaze was horrid. Especially as his words settled. Other flowers? Did I want to know what he meant by that?

Not at all, but I think I already knew as he smiled wickedly, reaching to brush a hand against my cheek – his touch like death spreading along my skin in suffocating waves.

“Of course, should she survive the flames, that is.”

In cold, merciless calculation, his hand wrapped around my throat. It was jarring and instinctively I sucked in a breath and jerked back. Or, rather, forward. Into reality. Or sort of? Argh, this is why I hate dreams. I mean I love them but this disorientation I could live without.

Alongside this ever worrisome nightmare that taunted me with another strikingly detailed drawing. Why? Was this my subconscious saying I really was talented, or something worse? My luck says the latter, but can’t I be a hopeless romantic and entertain the former? No? Well can’t blame you. If that really was the case my subconsciousness hated me. Drawing Chuuya in front of Dazai was bad enough.

If he saw this piece of Kouyou and Mori in the garden, he’d definitely throw me off a cliff and not in that weird urge to die with someone way.

I sucked in a breath and, per my rotten luck, a petal. A freaking petal. Who does that? Apparently me. But still. Why? Maybe I really am out to kill myself… Talk about “you are your worst enemy”. Bet they didn’t think my existence would take that so literally.

My throat constricted as I curled in on myself, trying in vain to keep the coughs at bay. An overwhelming nausea flooded over me. Why was this happening? What even was it? I thought that sketch guy was to blame, but I didn’t see or hear him at all. So why? Why did I see all that? And more worrisome: why did I see things that didn’t happen in my world?

What did it mean? I didn’t know and it scared me to death. Alongside Dazai and Yosano’s calls as they approached rapidly – no doubt worried by my sudden coughing fit. They were in for quite a shock when they saw what lay in my hands. Or rather not.

Before they could get close enough to see the details I weakly managed a miracle and turned the page back to the drawing of Yosano at the café we visited this morning. Unfortunately spit marred the shading and details. Again, my luck but I’ll take it over getting skinned alive by Dazai.

“Violet!” Yosano sounded distant – her voice and image distorted by panicked shouts and images of Atsushi, Kenji, and Kunikida’s bloodied forms.

Bile rose in my throat. Don’t tell me… Is that happening now? Are we really that far? I hate this so much. One week of nothing and then three full days of action… I couldn’t take it. Everything was too much and I felt exhausted physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally…

It couldn’t be happening now… And yet the dread covering me was too heavy to deny. Somehow, someway I knew they were fighting the Guild’s squad. Don’t ask me how. It was all I could do not to puke on them. I needed to know for sure. It was driving me crazy. For better or worse, I had to know. Know? No. I needed to make sure they were okay. I know, stupid considering things, but my nerves weren’t calming, and if anything maybe seeing them okay would remedy things.

“Atsushi… Kyouka…” I managed to croak as they knelt in front of me. Gosh. Everything spun. I was going to faint. Perfect. Just what I didn’t need. Although at least the darkness would spare me the nausea.

Somehow I managed to hold on. What was the word? Ah, that’s right…

“Atsushi and Kyouka…” I rasped a little stronger, struggling to steady their spinning phantoms in my vision, “Danger… Not safe…”

Both tensed. Or at least I think they did. Kinda hard to tell when there’s three of each of them and everything else. Petals flooded my vision uncannily and threatened to drown me. It wasn’t real, but my body certainly believed it. Mori’s cold fingers unwelcomingly returned around my throat, constricting the air from my lungs torturously.

I felt a pair of hands steady me. They must’ve been Yosano’s cause Dazai’s voice mentioned Kunikida and…Kyouka? What was it? I didn’t have the energy to translate let alone listen even as my coughs faded.

Tension is a weird thing. Have you ever thought about it? Especially in instances where you can feel it. Instances like seconds before disaster. Or like now when I felt their stress levels spike. All the answer I needed. So much for slow approach. We were sprinting for the finish line now.

A line I may cause them to stumble and fall short of.

That’s right. They probably weren’t together during this. Would that mean that the others were going to die? Atsushi’s injuries were so severe he had to rely on Yosano… Oh gosh. Oh gosh… What if they died? Or worse…

What if Port Mafia got there first?

No. I couldn’t let that happen. My throat burned and my stomach felt like it was scrubbed with a moldy sponge, but I forced myself to push away from Yosano and look around us. While bothersome and scarring in their clarity, those visions paid off in one aspect: I saw the background clearer than HD. Enough to make out a landmark behind Atsushi and Kyouka before Kouyou attacked.

One that peered between the trees.

Raising a shaking hand, I pointed at the lighthouse. Or tower? Whatever. That was the direction they were in. It was the best direction I could give. Hopefully they’d be able to take it from there. As it was, I didn’t think I could shoulder everything for much longer.

“Hurry…” I pleaded, having to stop there as bile licked the back of my throat.

Gosh, this was wretched. Was it like this before? I couldn’t remember. All I recalled was the fever and infection. Maybe it wasn’t all that? But there was definitely no nausea – or at least none like this. Sure, shock does a number on you, but nothing like this. This was different. This was terrifying and I dreaded to know why it was happening.

Something I knew would torment me as I struggled to stand only to stumble after rising an inch above the ground. There was no way I could stand, let alone lead the way. Looks like they really were going to have to take it from here… If only they would get a move on.

I suppose they were only doing the noble thing of making sure I was okay, but I wanted to scream at them. I was freaking fine compared to what was about to happen to Atsushi and the others. Why couldn’t they see that?

“Go…!” I hissed, action making my vision tunnel. Forcing my eyes closed brought little stability as I pressed, “Save them…!”

I prayed they listened, cause the action of closing my eyes, while a temporary relief, left me dizzier and weaker. I think I was feverish. Everything felt hot, and unlike before the gentle breeze no longer soothed my sweating brow. It was as if I fell into sickeningly warm water – unable to breathe and slowly losing strength to keep struggling. Indeed, in a matter of seconds the pull of gravity was too much and a fleeting breeze soothed the dull, pulsing heat.

The ground felt oddly soft, much gentler than what I expected. Not too surprising considering it wasn’t the ground.

Dazai’s hands shifted under me, supporting me against his back as he rose and guided my legs around him. What was…? No I was too tired to think. Too tired to do much of anything but let his cool touch surround me and steal my warmth – heat I gave selfishly. How was he this cold? He was wearing more layers than me, so how…?

It didn’t matter. All that I could think of was his cool, spring-like touch and harsh breathing as he and Yosano ran hopefully in the direction I pointed. I hated burdening them like this, but if they couldn’t handle what awaited them, then they stood no chance when the true demons came out to play.

I drifted between consciousness and the void as the metallic scent of blood grew ever stronger in my lungs.

 

…

 

Rugged beats of feet stomping on the ground relentlessly marked the rhythm of their heartbeats as the two figures neared the tower. Yosano spoke urgently over the phone, instructing the other side to arrange for transport and a potentially worst case scenario. Alarm sparked off her form and threatened to set him ablaze as Dazai shifted the barely conscious woman on his back.

Her uneven breaths and sheer heat radiating into his skin only invigorated their adrenaline.

Dazai narrowed his eyes. Their actions may very well end up with nothing, and yet they acted so swiftly. Not that he regretted it, only that it felt a bit odd. When had they trusted her word so much? They did not even know for certain if she was an ability user or merely deceiving them (or perhaps they were deceiving themselves?).

Either way, Violet’s supposed ability was about to be put to the test.

He hoped it would not be at the cost of their lives.

If he could manage carrying her while running and speaking on the phone, he would once more try Kunikida’s cell. He knew it was pointless – Yosano already tried four times, with Kenji and Atsushi as well. That, if anything, at least proved part of Violet’s prediction correct. They were in some danger.

“No… Flower of darkness… Wrong…” Violet’s murmur faintly sounded in his ears.

And then there was that.

Shortly after they set off, she descended into feverish murmurs – most, like this one, riddled with a meaning that escaped them. If they held any that is. She spoke seemingly random words, although one phrase stood a constant: flower of darkness.

What did she mean? Was it a reference to something or someone? Who? Kyouka? Yosano? Atsushi? Someone else? Either way, he imagined nothing good, but could not go far as any question on their part was lost to her.

Dazai frowned, turning his head slightly to take in her partially obscured pale face that found some refuge in his shoulder. She looked almost exactly like she did that night. Could it be that her condition was not because of the infection but her ability? A chill cut down his spine. She was already like that when he found her. Did that mean she saw something as well?

Water falling cut through their ragged breaths, prompting Yosano to point at something in the distance. A fountain, and just beyond…

Multiple motionless bodies and a once pristine sidewalk stained in blood.

“Shit…!” the doctor cursed, suddenly bolting forward.

Dazai slowed to a stop. Among the carnage, he recognized the telltale dress of Port Mafia members – their vehicle doors still open. They obviously were engaged in a heated fight, but then where were the survivors? Easy. There were none. None, at least belonging to either side.

“Kunikida! Kenji!” Yosano’s voice sliced through his examination, drawing his attention to the motionless blondes and, a little to their left, Atsushi. Each bore horrid injuries to the extent Yosano’s ability kicked in without her having to lift a blade.

Who caused this? The Guild? It made sense, but brought foreboding meaning. It was a call to war – the first battle of a bloody conflict to come. Still, to take on both the Mafia and Agency without any losses… Perhaps they were more dangerous than the records told.

Danger… He glanced back at Violet, who weakly pulled her head up to grimace at the carnage. She was right. Her prediction was correct. Did she see all of this? Did she know who caused this? How? Why?

Despite resting on his back, she appeared not to notice his attention whatsoever. Instead her gaze swiveled leftwards until stopping, an airy murmur escaping her lips, “Kouyou…”

He stiffened at the name as more questions and red flags blared in his mind. Nonetheless, he followed her gaze almost reluctantly. If that person was here, then they were in serious trouble. Sure, he knew her fighting style, but even then she was a formidable foe.

One that lay in a pool of her own blood.

Dazai frowned, foreboding only growing as Yosano spoke shakenly, “What on Earth happened here?”

The question rang among a symphony of others; the only one with a solid answer at last drifting off with a final, haunting murmur, “Kyouka…isn’t here.”

Notes:

Getting further into Violet's story and the Guild's arc. Can't say it will be pretty but it is looking leagues better than what awaits ahead.

Chapter 20: Why You Must Go

Summary:

The choice to leave is never easy or simple

“No! I don’t want that!”

Heavy sighs and frowns dotted their faces as Dazai, Yosano, Atsushi, Tanizaki, and Kunikida watched the young woman’s protest. They expected little less, and yet it failed to make things any easier – especially with President’s order to relocate in an hour. Something they could not do so long as non-combat members of the Agency remained here.

Namely Naomi and Haruno who promised to take care of Violet after receiving crash courses on what to do should her ability activate. If anything they may end up protecting each other in that respect. Well, should they manage to get her to join them that is.

“But Violet-san, it isn’t safe for you to stay here,” Tanizaki spoke softly, attempting to lull her into agreeing. To his dismay, it only focused her sharp glare on him. Since when did she manage such a pointed expression?

“I don’t care! Want- Need to stay together,” she argued.

The young teen flinched, Yosano sighing under her breath, “I believe we may have spoiled her too much…”

“Even so, everyone must grow up eventually,” Kunikida grumbled.

True, but how could they possibly convey that to her? At this rate they really might have to sedate her per Ranpo’s suggestion. It wouldn’t be pretty in the least and she’d likely hold it against them for a while. But she’d be alive to do so. Something that prompted the majority vote to send her away after the Guild’s initial attack that left the other two sides in shambles.

If only they knew how much of a hassle doing so would be.

Didn’t she realize the danger she was in? If the other two groups found out about her ability… No. The odds of that were too great already. They couldn’t take the chance. And while he sympathized with her desire to stay, Dazai felt himself resigned to their conclusion. Sleep may have healed her of fever and short breaths, but such was a luxury they could not afford on the battlefield.

Not when Kouyou’s words still rang through his mind.

“Ah… I see now. So this was the other flower he mentioned that time…”

Kouyou’s initial surprise at learning of Violet’s role in their discovery and rescue paled in comparison to that poisonous smile. Smile? No. More like the calculated mask he and much of Port Mafia learned to conjure in place of more raw emotions. Which was she trying to cover? Pity? Sneer? Contempt? Fear? Any held a viable place when concerning Violet’s ability – especially now that they confirmed it with their own eyes.

An ability that brushed the wrong way against Dazai as it reflected another perhaps too cruelly.

Almost as badly as the unease souring his pallet at the meaning behind her words – what they confirmed. Mori knew. He knew about Violet’s ability and yet he still allowed her to escape with him. Why? Why would he relinquish such a monumental advantage? One that allowed them countless victories in the past? Certainly it was not out of sentimentality. No. That man was too logical for such.

So why? The questions nagged at Dazai’s mind. Perhaps he was using them to fine-tune Violet until she could activate her ability on her own? To become a member so as to receive Fukuzawa’s blessing? Was he waiting until then to seize her?

What exactly did he say to Kouyou?

He frowned as numerous plans began forming in his mind for her protection – each haunted by a chilling voice echoing inside him.

Will you save this one?

 

…

 

This was stupid. Completely and utterly a waste of time. Why couldn’t they see that? They were freaking detectives. Talk about a horrid time to face plant.

Not that I couldn’t empathize, just that it was a stupid and pointless idea. Sending me away now, especially with Naomi and Haruno, would only leave me right back with them after a very traumatic encounter with Mr. Angst Kid. One I did not want to get up close and personal with.

One that could be avoided if they just let me bunk down with the defense team in that hall.

Argh. Why couldn’t they see that? Hindsight’s 20-20, I know, but come on. Ranpo and Dazai could see through everything. Apparently the former must hate me because he failed to lift a finger to help my cause. As for the other…

Dazai gave an expression that spelt nothing good. It was one of those rare cracks in his mask that revealed something heartbreakingly human. Whatever was plaguing him was not lighthearted and warm. No. The demons tormenting him held no clear name, but their effect stung just to look at – something that I was horribly limited in doing.

Why? Why wasn’t he saying anything? He was so smart yet he fell so short in aspects like this. Why? Why couldn’t he manage this? Why couldn’t I do anything for him? Especially now that he was letting them send me away. I saw his concerned frown earlier. He disagreed with them. So why?

Why was he just letting this happen?

I don’t know what snapped within me in that moment but it was enough to send me boldly in front of the man. He didn’t even budge, leaving me the tampering toddler who reached up to grab the only thing in range – which just so happened to be his hair. Without a second thought, I tugged him down until his startled and slightly pained gaze had no choice but to leave whatever introspective thoughts plagued him.

His surprise fell short of the astonishment searing into my back from the others, but I pushed it away to growl at him, “Why?”

It fell painfully short from the questions we both wanted to ask – the words we need to say. But it was all I knew how to say and left a gaping hole in my chest. Why was I so powerless to wipe that expression from his face? It burned and tormented me because of the end I feared awaited this series.

The death I sickeningly suspected would mark the finale.

That was why I didn’t want to stay. Not to say that I didn’t want to return to my friends and family. Come on, getting to visit this world – a world where I could theoretically be a hero? Who wouldn’t want that? Not me. Not so long as that nightmare awaited us. Because even if I could logically conclude they were all characters…

I didn’t want to see Dazai die.

Tears stung at the back of my eyes, but I shoved them down – something his gaze flickering toward my arm helped as he cringed slightly.

My scar. The one Mori left intentionally or not. One that spanned two fingers wide an about my index finger long. It was still tender but healed enough to not warrant bandages. Something that I found myself wanting now that it left a sick expression on anyone here who noticed. As if things weren’t crappy enough, now they were about to sink into guilt… Guilt over something they couldn’t possibly have seen coming.

Was that why he was silent? Was he concerned about me?

Man. Talk about sucky. I didn’t mean to be the bad guy, but… Ah. This sucked. So much for lessening his burdens. At this rate I was only adding to them…

This was too much, far too much for this world and my emotional levels. I let go of him and sighed. Weariness overwhelmed me and suddenly all of this felt pointless. Why argue when the inevitable came anyways? We’d only be apart for a little while, so might as well make things a little easier for them. Just… Why did they think that splitting up was a good idea?

Couldn’t they see that soon we’d all be torn apart by the demon lurking in Fitzgerald’s shadow?

“Fine,” I relented more out of this weariness than giving into their stupid plan.

Geez, why was this happening? I couldn’t even look at any of them. Were they relieved? Glad? Concerned? Annoyed? Who knew? I didn’t have the strength to meet their gazes. Just take me away and let me sleep the drive over or whatever.

Anywhere but here where it took everything I had not to hug them and keep them here in some vain attempt to stop time before it all fell apart.

A heavy sigh that was more like breathing underwater than actually exhaling escaped my lips; I stepped forward only for a hand to rest on my shoulder. Gosh. Why did he have to do that? Couldn’t he just let me go? Couldn’t he see how hard it was already?

“Violet-chan...” Dazai spoke softly, his fingers curled into my shoulder. It wasn’t oppressive or abusive, but the underlying emotion I thought I felt burned.

For some reason it reminded me of Odasaku. As if my heart wasn’t beaten and bruised enough already…

“Hey,” he ruffled my hair, a sure fire way to gain my irritation as I immediately swatted at him. Dazai smirked. Jerk planned it. Figures and his more normal expression helped a little but nothing near enough to cover earlier.

Still, his chuckle was like a cool summer breeze, “Don’t be sad. We will be together again, I promise.”

Yeah, I know that. But what about the meantime? He was good, but now there was a new variable in the mix: me. What if I messed things up? What if I altered his plans in a way that led to more heartache and pain and possibly death? Dazai was clever, no doubt about it, but what if my presence changed things and brought things even he was unable to predict?

Would I become their demise?

“Violet-chan,” I blinked, not realizing tears formed in my eyes until his form blurred. I scrunched my nose as his calloused thumb brushed them away, a lopsided smile on his face as he lowered himself to my level, “Don’t worry. Everyone will be okay.”

“I know…” I murmured, trying my best to not look into his eyes. Kinda hard when his hands kept my face from turning, “Just…Be careful. Not safe.”

He smiled and reached to fiddle with his bolo tie. With a small tug, it came loose enough to pull over his head. What was he doing? He looked naked without it. Ironic considering it was only a small accessory of his outfit. But to me it was no better than if he exchanged his coat with a pink one and dyed his bandages purple.

Dazai pressed the teal stone into my hand, curling my fingers around it while saying something softly. I think he was telling me to hold onto it. Perhaps as a sign they’d always be there? Like some promise that I’d be able to give it back to him later? Nice thought, if only it wasn’t cliché for animes and mangas… Still, I gave a small smile if only to reassure him and get things moving.

As it was, they might already be late for an important meeting or something.

Passively, I took Naomi’s waiting hand and let her guide me outside into Haruno’s blue car. She came shortly after, but by that point I was lost in the blue-green glow of Dazai’s bolo tie. It was beautiful and oddly soothing… Did he wiretap it? Not entirely surprising given who he is, yet oddly reassuring. Would still have to be careful with it. As good as his intentions may be I didn’t want him listening in on a shower or something mortifying.

Still…

I wrapped it around my wrist, letting its cool touch lull me into a calm sleep as I felt the car rumble to life. Hopefully we could all get some peaceful dreams.

Lord knows we need it. The Guild was bad enough, but it was only the forerunner of the nightmare to come.

Notes:

Kind of an intermidiary chapter, but it does play a role later on. The thought of Dazai without his bolo tie is weird, like he's somehow naked without it. Fortunately (or sort of?) the story shies away from the main characters for a little while. Hopefully Violet and the others can finds some rest before things pick up again.

Also, planning on starting up another series. Yes I know, bad idea for the eternal writer's block writer (heck, that'd be my ability if I ended up in this world) but I am super excited because it's a crossover with a rising favorite game/series involving some interesting angels c; Ideally it will be up by tonight and update on same days as this series, so may see some delays in the future. Will try my best to juggle everything and keep the story rolling.

Thank you and have a marvelous week!

Chapter 21: Blurred Grey

Summary:

Peaceful days blur together even while thoughts linger on those left behind dreaming under the same sky.

There’s more to people than meets the eye.

True, everyone holds their own secrets and quirks, but some are downright shocking. Well, sort of. There’s always a hint no matter how hard you try to conceal it. Even then, some people are super blind and oblivious to the whole thing.

Aka me.

To be fair though, the term thief and Naomi rarely met. Guess that meant we were all fools and blinded by, perhaps, the glamourous abilities of other characters. Guilty there. But then maybe that was the point. Huh… Touché Asagiri.

If only my skills in masking my absolute shock matched his wit in storytelling. Can you blame me though? It had barely been a day in this getaway and Naomi was already showing some startling true colors. Startling? She did some sketch things I’d rather not imagine with Tanizaki… Ahh, have we been living with a secret criminal all these years?

Okay, dramatic, probably hung around Dazai too long, but still. Naomi? A thief? What?

“Violet-chan,” Naomi smiled, “Why are you making such a weird face?”

The sheer amount of chills running laps around my spine was impressive. All from this seemingly innocent girl’s unnerving smile. Crap, must’ve given away I saw. Well duh. I could still feel myself gawking and had to muster more strength than necessary to close my mouth. Geez, what a demon. Was she really human? I always suspected Naomi was a product of Tanizaki’s ability. Could it be true? Or was this another moral grey thing?

“No… It’s nothing…” I weakly replied, hiding behind what flimsy protection my menu offered. Geez. Maybe the roles of protector and protectee weren’t exactly as we all thought.

“That’s a relief,” the student beamed, turning to converse with Haruno who was completely oblivious to her friend shoving the keys to our waitress’ car in her pocket.

Our waitress.

Out of everyone, why her? Didn’t she know how tough it was to work in a restaurant? Was this some sort of backwards tip? What the hell was this place? Who were these people?

Either way it was extremely hard not to stare at her with some suspicion and mistrust. Was she always like this? Or was this some survival mechanism? How morally grey were we talking here? Dazai-level? Or Atsushi? Suddenly sleeping in the same room as her felt not so safe for, ironically, me rather than her. Who’d have guessed?

Teal light flashed in my eyes, easily pulling my attention to the glinting stone tied loosely around my wrist. Dazai’s pendant. Gosh… Where was he now? Were they already mobilized? How long until Chuuya showed up with Mori’s trap? Did Mori already send our location to the Guild? How were the others holding up? Was everything still going according to the story? Or had they diverged? Oh gosh… Could my presence really have that large of an effect?

My stomach churned and I let my chopsticks rest on the half eaten dish set before me. Not that the food was bad (heck it was freaking amazing for some hideaway), just that I didn’t want the image of its puke-form ruining it for me forever.

“Violet-san?” one of the secretaries spoke up in concern from the table to our right. I think his name was Tatsuo.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I waved away although I’m pretty sure my face was green. Maybe he’d think it was from the gem?

Thankfully he was soon drawn back into conversation among his fellow workers and the others around him. Things turned into a very weird sleepover-like trip – most of the Agency employees bringing alcohol and card games and the like. It was weird. Like didn’t they realize the danger of things? Did they not suspect the Guild to attack them? Were they really that naïve?

Heck, not even Haruno could say anything – the woman packing not one, not two, but six bottles of wine. Always thought Yosano was the wine connoisseur of the Agency… Goes to show there’s so much more than meets the eye. Shouldn’t have doubted for a second given it was the Agency of all organizations. They were a freaking circus act complete with renegades and smiling clowns and a tiger that leapt through flames.

A circus that was now a little too much for me.

Taking a breath to steady myself, I got up and wandered back to our shared room. What? Did you think I forgot to pay? Apparently Fukuzawa paid it all in full earlier. Never been on an all-expense paid vacation, but then this was far from a vacation and I was far from relieved.

At least Naomi and Haruno trusted me enough to let me wander on my own. Not many places to go as I couldn’t call a cab or ask the lodge staff for transportation or directions easily without my sketchbook. It, like many of my other things, was left behind at the Agency and Yosano’s place. Probably for the best as it felt connected to those horrid flashbacks. Sure they were nice refreshers but the after-effects were terrible.

Not to mention the freakishly detailed drawings frankly scared the hell out of me.

What was happening to me? Was staying here having some effect on me? Why? How? I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to go home. Back to things that made sense. Back to my family and friends. Why wasn’t I able to return? How could I get back?

Before I realized it, I stumbled into one of the window cells lining the halls. The world spun and it took a moment to grasp it wasn’t nerves but tears that disoriented me. Unconsciously my fingers brushed against the pendent.

Why did we have to split up?

Why did they leave me here alone?

Alone? No. That wasn’t true. Naomi and the others were here. And yet…

Why did I feel so terribly alone?

 

…

 

I spent much of our time there in a daze, trying to fill the days as best as I could with simple activities with the others and wandering about the lodge. It was nice as I got a fairly good bearing on the layout of the place, but I hadn’t the faintest idea of how much time passed. My dreams were vivid – enough that when I woke I was disoriented and had to sit for a moment and pry apart dream from reality. It was confounding and exhausting as if I hadn’t slept a wink in three days.

Three days? Was that how much time passed? Or had it only been a few hours? Argh… This was torture. Did the Agency beat the Guild already? No. Wait. They needed to save us first. Or was it after the city was destroyed? Was it? Ahhh I couldn’t remember. Everything was blurring together.

“Violet-chan, are you still awake?”

I turned to find Naomi enter the common area connecting her room, Haruno’s, and mine. I felt like I’d gotten hit by a bus, but couldn’t exactly say that even if I wanted to so I simply smiled and nodded. Not the most convincing lie, but enough to get her to smile softly as she closed the door to Haruno’s room. I recalled her drinking a lot… Glad to see she finally passed out before getting too rowdy. 

Still, it was entertaining to drink a little of her wine with her. Or, rather, watch as she chugged bottle by bottle in a way that would have Chuuya swooning. Now that would be a fun thing to experience – drinking wine with Chuuya and Haruno to see who passed out first.

Better than how I must’ve looked passed out next to my half-drunk wine. Hey. I’m no lightweight. These dream-reality-dream things were weighing heavily on me to the point I could barely keep my eyes open if someone didn’t distract me for long. Heck, I nearly fell asleep in the shower. Good thing I decided against the tempting offer of a bath.

Hopefully all of this was temporary. The Guild was looming on the horizon, and we all needed to be at our best. At this rate, unfortunately, it was looking like I was sleep walking through their invasion. Maybe adrenaline would kick in… Although relying on that was a bit too terrifying to swallow.

Knowing helped drive off a ton of fear, but at the same time it invited so many more demons than you could possibly imagine. It was like knowing 9-11 was about to happen but being powerless to help. I mean, how could you possibly stop a plane from hitting a building? The best you could do was try to get as many people to believe in you as possible and get them to book it out of the area.

If only it was that simple.

Oddly enough my sigh had an echo as Naomi plopped down across from me and stared wistfully out the window, murmuring without being totally aware what she said wasn’t in her head, “Nii-sama…”

She was…thinking about Tanizaki? Duh. They were siblings despite their strange unspeakable relationship whatever it was. Despite that, the way she said it was very sobering. As if a soft light shone through the curtains and gently pulled me out of my haze.

She was worried about her brother. Just like Haruno was worried about her cat and friends. How the others held their own loved ones in concern as the Agency couldn’t possibly send them all away. We all held our own concerns, buried under smiles and laughs and games and food and alcohol and sleep and everything in between.

It was comforting and calming. To know that at least in this respect we weren’t alone.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured, shifting to gaze out at the night sky. It was stunning – stars like diamonds glittering in the clear, silky black. “Tanizaki is okay. I promise.”

Naomi blinked, but before I could regret my loose tongue she gave the purest smile I’d seen or ever expect from a thief. Although I suppose that was only a little of who she was. Who was I to say she was simply that? Hell, if anything I should be the one to say she was so much more.

“Thank you, Violet-chan,” she murmured, lifting her eyes back to the window and adding softly, “I am sure Dazai-san and the others are too.”

Yeah…

We sat in silence, watching the night sky until time stopped. It was one of those moments that if this was a part of the series it would be a beautiful rendition colored in infinite takes of readers’ curiosity and imagination. It made me sad not to have my sketchbook to attempt to capture it.

Even so, it remained clear in my mind and I was confident in that at least.

While the flames awaited us, we could look back at this moment of peace and tranquility. When the entire building slumbered, leaving us gazing hopefully at the stars and wondering if the ones we cared for were seeing the same wonders as us.

 

…

 

Morning came gently. Well, as gently as muffled squeals from the adjacent room gets.

Seeing as going back to wandering around a Q-stricken Yokohama hardly appealed, I pushed my aching body up. Thankfully we’d spent enough time together that my perpetual bedhead no longer embarrassed me as I rubbed the remaining sleep from my eyes and gave a groan of a morning greeting. Sleep? Hardly. Whatever prompted these freakishly real dreams to start needed to stop. I felt on the verge of breaking down between high-stress nightmares and mundane afternoons of wandering the same halls.

Maybe I’d be able to convince them to let me explore some of the woods? Would certainly help Violet not go crazy, not to mention lessen some nerves. When the Guild attacked, I wanted at least some knowledge of the land – something that wasn’t happening as each time I so much as looked at an outside door someone from the Agency not-so-secretly pulled me aside to join a game or meal or whatnot.

Geez… I loved them all, but anymore of this was really going to make me insane.

At least Haruno shared in some aspect as she fawned over something on her computer screen, squealing, “Mii-chan… As soon as this whole mess is over, I’ll come for you okay?”

Mii-chan? I quietly walked over and peered at the screen. Multiple images of a calico cat filled every inch. Cat? Not quite. More like an ability user. Ugh. I know I went over this before, but it still creeps me out that an old guy was living with her; most likely without her knowledge. Although probably for the best as the Agency might smack him up even if he did help found it.

It took all my effort not to scream it at her and instead smile softly, “Cute.”

Haruno jumped as if I set off firecrackers beneath her, “V-Violet-chan?!”

It was so sudden I yelped and had to pinwheel my arms to avoid falling. Sort of. I still landed pretty harshly on my butt. “Oww…” I groaned, this time loud enough for her to hear, “Why did you do that?”

“S-Sorry, Violet-chan. You scared me,” Haruno chagrinned weakly, not even attempting to hide the numerous photos. Guess that means she trusted me. That or realized I was a poor excuse for a tattle-tale.

I puffed my cheeks. Everyone here was full of surprises. Honestly, how did I think it was boring here with them? Gah. Don’t tell me all that action with the Azure Messenger and Port Mafia made me some adrenaline junkie. If this was boring, how was I going to survive when I returned to my world?

“Haruno-san,” a voice scolded from the doorway, prompting the brunette to squeak in shock as Naomi pinned her with a stern, unamused gaze.

“N-Naomi-chan!” Haruno yelped, quickly turning and minimizing all of the cat photos from her computer while giving some excuse to the girl. I wasn’t paying much attention. Whatever was in the bag in Naomi’s hand smelled delicious – enough for my stomach to overpower my mind.

Apparently I showed it as Naomi sighed and handed me the bag while sitting beside Haruno. They spoke about something but I frankly didn’t care. The bag was full of fresh anpan – that red bean bun that I grew to adore since coming here. Hopefully she set some aside, cause they’d be gone in minutes in my hands.

Pulling one out, I chomped down, relishing in the sweet taste that electrified my mouth. Got to figure out a recipe or something before I get back. These things were freaking amazing no matter where she got them. Maybe they’d be willing to write it down for a cute innocent girl like me? Not like I could read it but I know enough about Google Translate to figure things out.

I think I would’ve devoured the entire bag in that moment if not for a familiar word cutting through their conversation: Yokohama. Eh? I turned with a bean bun still in my mouth. Yes. Very classy, I know.

Not like they paid attention as both stared in concern at Haruno’s screen. What was it? Hugging the bag closer (What? I wasn’t taking any chances with these ravenous wolves), I scooched over until I could get a better look at what sobered them so effectively. Numerous articles covered barely noticeable pictures of Natsume or Mii or whoever he called himself. I couldn’t read a single one and should probably work on that as well, but for now sufficed in what the pictures revealed.

They really were worth a thousand words.

All thousand of which making my stomach drop as Fitzgerald smirked smugly up at us. Oh gosh. What a freaking wake up call. I don’t know if Naomi got these to cheer me up or how much she paid for them, but hopefully not a lot as bile quickly climbed my throat. Do you think she’d get offended if I puked?

Why? I could feel their suspicion even as their eyes remained fixated on the article – skimming it for information far beyond my reach. At least in their sense. I knew all too well what occurred – what caused that horrid conflagration in the adjacent photo. Port Mafia. More specifically Kaiji and a particularly sour individual.

“Akutagawa…” my mouth moved before I could stop it. Damn thing. Why’d it do that? Probably because between the real consequences of a war rushing our way and Fitzgerald haunting me rendered me a shaking mess. My poor anpans were probably reduced to mush now.

“Ah, Violet-chan!” Naomi swiftly pulled me around so my back faced the computer. Why? Did she suddenly realize I was there? Crap. Did they suspect me because of Fitzgerald? Come on. I shrank a little in her arms. Were we really doing this right now? I knew it’d come eventually, but after witnessing the darker side of these people I’d rather not do it here with the people I knew better miles away.

She went on a speedy monologue while pushing more snacks and drinks into my hand. Where’d she get all these? Surely not that gift shop? But where else? This lodge was in the middle of nowhere. Unless she snuck out. Come on. How unfair was that? Take me along too. I wanted some fresh mountain air without a window blocking it too.

“Enough, enough,” I grumbled, shifting away from her and bumping into the back of the table. Geez. Forget killing me with their underhanded methods, this girl was going to drown me in unhealthy snacks.

Fortunately Naomi relented with a weak laugh, her expression sobering as she looked over my shoulder at the article once more, murmuring, “Akutagawa, huh?”

Crap. Of course she caught that. And of course she and everyone at the Agency knew that storm cloud. Last night only screamed that we were all worried, and I just threw gasoline on that fire. Better do some damage control while I could. But how?

Taking one of the semi-intact bean buns from my bag, I shoved it in Naomi’s hands and smiled weakly, “Do not worry. Everyone is alright. I promise.”

If only I could say the same for us. If they were reading about this now, then that meant the Guild was coming soon… Be that as it may, it felt distant as I glanced back at the flaming still-frame.

This one event… I never thought much of it until now. Because unlike before I knew what happened next. Hawthorne was injured and Margret nearly killed in this attack. An attack that sent both of them on the sidelines, and one in a rat’s burrow. A frown tugged at my lips. Was this a turning point I could’ve prevented? Could I have saved Hawthorne from descending into madness under Fyodor?

Or was it all outside of my control?

For once, I felt my presence was painfully powerless and incapable of anything but futile attempts to change the bad things to come.

“I believe you, Violet-chan,” Naomi answered gratefully, placing a warm hand on my shaking shoulder, “And I promise: you will be okay too.”

Let’s not get our hopes up with that just yet. Maybe after the extreme hiking I feared we were about to take part in. All the motivation I needed to nod and stuff my face full of anpan and sugary sodas. Thankfully the other two followed after giggling at my actions. I prayed that lightheartedness would last because we were in for a hell of a day that never seemed to start.

By the time three o’clock was halfway over, I began to doubt my conjectures. Maybe it was a little longer? Or perhaps the next day? I hoped so. If they meant to shove getting chased by Steinbeck and Lovecraft, and Q’s attack in one day than I sure as hell wanted out now. Heck, my nerves were a mess already. I didn’t need endless insanity even if my body craved adrenaline. 

Just as I was about to stroll around for the thousandth time, Haruno’s phone buzzed from where we sat in the common room after a filling lunch that almost resulted in a food fight because of the stir-craziness infecting the others more and more each day. Glad to see that was all about to end as I recognized that deep, somewhat stern voice on the other end.  

And the rollercoaster of emotions passing through Haruno’s features that ended in pallid dread only banished the remaining calm I managed to hold onto. Her eyes flickered over to us as she affirmed whatever Fukuzawa instructed on the other end – confirming that we were going to evacuate asap. Luckily I already packed my meager belongings that morning. Maybe I could finally put some use to the knowledge I gained if my stress didn’t block it out.

Tension that only heightened as Haruno echoed in faint surprise, “Eh, Violet-chan? Yes. She’s here… Eh? Okay. I understand. Yes… Yes.”

Say what now? What about me? Oh gosh. Did I really somehow change things up? How? I wasn’t even in the city. Don’t tell me they’re planning on pulling me back when I just resigned myself to staying away. Talk about bad timing. Or… Gosh. Did they want to interrogate me about Fitzgerald? Now? Really? Why drag it out? Just kill me now.

Haruno hung up, urgently whispering to Naomi who nodded and ran out the door to alert the others – leaving me and the brunette whose frown was far from reassuring. Unconsciously, I gripped Dazai’s tie, hoping that he really did wire it in case things went south.

Cause we were heading that direction at 100 miles an hour.

Notes:

Happy October!

Kinda of a filler chapter but there's some character development and important relaxation time before things really get started. But like did anyone else notice in the manga how Naomi stole that poor person's car keys? Shame how the anime doesn't really portray her as well as the manga in terms of whit, but then again that may have scared people further away from her. Fortunately for Violet she's rather accepting given the situation.

And thank you wiccanapprentice for the super lovely comment that made my month♥ I do try to make my OCs relatable and fluid in the stories they wander in - especially in terms of this one. Funny though, I did mess around with the idea of giving Violet an ability but settled with the fact her foreknowledge of events was enough, not to mention in the early parts of the story she is pretty much handicapped by her inability to communicate. Haha yes I am still working on what is going to happen with her and Dazai as there are a few other characters she bonds with in the future who makes their relationship a bit rocky, but will see how it all turns out as things move along. Either way it will be a slow burn so sorry in advance if it drives you or anyone else crazy.

From here it gets deeper into the second season and Violet's influence on events up until the finale. Slow chapters like this will be a bit sparing so hope you all enjoy and have a lovely week ♥

Chapter 22: Grapes of Wrath

Summary:

Tread carefully lest you fall to hidden traps

“Haruno-san, please hurry!” Naomi shouted, her voice adding another layer to the buzzing panic that echoed in the lodge.

Barely twenty minutes passed since Fukuzawa’s call to evacuate, and, with haste to rival Usain Bolt, all of the employees in this lodge packed up and moved to the new designated location that held more chance of remaining secure since I had absolutely no idea where it was. Well, all but us, that is, as Haruno rummaged around the room looking for something. Whatever she was searching for better be an epipen or something of the like. Cause if it’s a freaking toothbrush then I’m about to scream.

We needed to leave like ten minutes ago. Why were we still here? We need to go now.

Although what did it really matter? Yikes. Depressing much, but honestly… Naomi and Haruno were set to have a close encounter with the Guild followed by a nasty helping of Q-nightmares. If that’s unavoidable, then why stress? Not like I could stop it. So no stress, right? Hardly. Try telling that to my tense muscles. I’m sure they’d be glad to punch you as thanks.

“Haruno…!” I called tersely, pulling at her arm at long last. I thought I heard something outside. Oh please let it be a deer or a bear or something not enhanced with vine abilities or a sea monster.

Thankfully Naomi aided my urgency and grabbed the brunette’s other arm, tugging her out of the room at long last. Thank goodness. About dang time. Let’s get going before things really turn south. Rather get caught where we’re supposed to get caught than here, please. If she’s upset about our stuff I’m sure we could buy it back or make Fitzgerald get it back. Should be a win-win with his ability, right?

“Come on,” Naomi instructed urgently, leading the way down abandoned halls. Sheesh. It felt like a freaking haunted house. Was the energy and life of the Agency members really so potent? Guess we did book the entire place minus a few rooms… Were the other guests evacuated as well? But then what about the staff? Where was everyone?

Something definitely felt off, and I didn’t like it one bit. Be that as it may, Haruno and Naomi didn’t seem to notice, so that means it’s not major, right? I mean if anything we were about to book it out of here in Haruno’s car. Good riddance. Although I hoped the Guild wouldn’t trash the place. I still needed to get that recipe for those bean buns.

Without warning, Naomi tugged both of us down with a strength I didn’t know she possessed, hissing, “Get down!”

We hit the floor, Haruno giving a startled yelp as I winced at the harsh ground scraping against my knees. Oww. What the heck was that-?

A flash of movement caught my eyes. What was…? My stomach dropped as I peered out the window seconds after two forms casually walked by. Oh gosh. That was Steinbeck, and beside him…

Have you ever been on a free-fall ride or descended down a hill a little too fast? That moment where your stomach forgets to move with the rest of your body, ever felt it? Yeah, that’s just a taste of how my organs fled, leaving my empty shell to slump down the window. Bright side was I numbly managed to catch myself on the window’s edge. Downside: it felt like I’d been hollowed out and could scarcely breathe.

What the heck was that? What was happening to me? Another panic attack? But this felt different. Much more potent and chilling. It’s gonna sound weird and dramatic, but I felt like my body was resonating with something – that it froze and wouldn’t allow me to do anything until it completed like those annoying updates that make you restart your computer.

No. Get a grip on yourself girl. I can’t hold Naomi and Haruno back. No. If anything I was supposed to protect them. That’s why Dazai and the others left me here, right? To protect them. Right? I grimaced at the pendant pressed between my hand and wrist, struggling to regain my energy and strength.

We couldn’t afford to stay here any longer.

“Violet-chan?” Naomi spoke up, her face contorted in worry.

Crap. Mustering the best smile I could, I forced my shaking limbs up and stepped forward, “I’m okay. Let’s go.”

She looked like she didn’t believe a word I said but turned and led the way once more. Thank goodness for emergency situations shoving back concern for the moment. So long as I was able to run away, we could tackle this dilemma another day. Or, you know, just shove it under the rug. I cast a glance back at the window, noting the tail of Lovecraft’s coat disappear around a corner outside.

No. I could mull about it later.

Empty halls passed us by endlessly, steadily growing less neat and guest-like. Indeed, with each step the halls and flooring grew increasingly cheaper and more practical than decorative. Wait… Were we in the back of house? There definitely is something wrong with this place for no one to catch us here.

Haruno appeared unnerved as well, although I think it was for a different reason. Don’t ask me what or how I knew, but her lack of suspicious looks around us seemed enough to discern our concerns were not matching up. Nevertheless, it grew to tangible levels as she and Naomi stopped at a door, exchanging heavy glances as the student wrapped a hand around the door knob.

What? What was it? Did they think the Guild was on the other side? Probably not, so get going! I tensed and shifted impatiently on my feet. Where’s all that urgency from before? Gah, this tension is going to kill me!

Before I could scream at them to move, Naomi opened the door. Instantly their stress levels declined by more than half and they shared smiles. Great. If only I could do the same and banish these memories of what awaited us.

Somewhere in Naomi’s words to Haruno, she said Dazai’s name – easily perking my interest enough to echo his name. Gosh. Why does that sound so bad? Had I become some human version of a dog? Not that I hated the relation as dogs were freaking adorable creatures too pure for this world, but it felt a bit embarrassing when you’re not cute and fluffy and hold no desire to become a furry.

Naomi blinked, noticing my piqued interest and smiled softly, “Yes, Violet-chan. We are going to see Dazai-san right now.”

Yeah, except we literally had a mountain of trouble between then and now. If only she knew… The lucky girl. Whoever thought prophets and future-seers had it good must live under a brick. It freaking sucked, especially when you’re helpless to even communicate what is going to happen to others and potentially avoid it. Sure, it prevents a butterfly effect, but it's hell on the nerves.

The sound of a car beeping drew my attention to a dark navy car. Huh? Pretty sure Haruno’s car was light blue and definitely not parked here. Did they really go outside without me? The jerks.

Naomi tossed a pair of keys to Haruno, who fumbled around with them before going around the other side as I peered inside the car. Clean leather seats with fancy clothes strewn about the backseat? Yeah, this definitely was not Haruno’s car. Then who-?

The waitress. Oh my God. This was the car of that poor girl Naomi stole from the first day. Are you kidding me? We’re seriously stealing her car now? A car that’s about to get wrecked by Steinbeck? Gosh. Hopefully that girl has insurance. Hell, I’d badger them about it later to pay her back in full for everything. Did they not realize how thankless her job was?

It took more willpower than necessary to climb in the back and not frown in judgement at them for casually pulling out and zooming down the road. Seriously. Who were these people? Always thought the Agency’s gifted individuals were to be reckoned with. Guess we were all in for a big surprise from these people.

Naomi and Haruno descended into another conversation with Port Mafia marking the tone. Guess they figured out who spilled their location. Clever. They weren’t the helpless clerks that I believed them to be. Hopefully the Mafia and Guild still shared that false assumption.

Either way, they appeared to handle things fairly well. Good considering that disorienting chill was creeping back up my spine. Gosh. I felt incredibly weak yet not. It was weird. Like I was still in my body but not all the way. How do I even begin to describe that without sounding insane?

My forehead burned. Crap, was I going to have another vision thing? But why? How? My sketchbook or anything close to it was nowhere to be found. Unless I was about to owe the waitress another blouse that is. Gosh. Please no. The girl already lost enough.

I pressed the heel of my wrist to my forehead, Dazai’s pendent granting some faint relief as I murmured under my breath, “I’m okay. We’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay…”

Wonder why we always seem to say that when things are obviously not okay. Have you ever pondered that? Maybe we’re all vain and try to lie to ourselves. I mean, we lie by human nature, so not completely wrong, right? On a more positive note, it shows some hope. Whichever side you choose is up to you. As for me, I already knew what awaited us and closed my eyes. If this was going to happen, I needed to focus and ideally get this sickening feeling to go away.

Steinbeck and Lovecraft were formidable enough without this nasty handicap.

Everything felt too hot and I found myself leaning on the door for whatever coolness it brought. It was horrible. I felt chilled to the bone yet on fire at the same time. What was this? If I was going to see something, could I please see it now?

“Violet-chan,” I heard Haruno speak up worriedly, but she sounded distant. All in all not good, yet paling in comparison to what cut her off, “Are you-?”

Suddenly the car jerked roughly as if we collided with another car. If only. That would’ve been a mercy for us. My head slammed into the window and for a brief moment the heat gave way to stars and static as I was thrown against the cushions. I think I yelped or something, but a ringing sound filled my ears in clear indication of the forming bruise and likely concussion assaulting me.

I didn’t have long to dwell on the fact as the car suddenly nose-dived. Or, rather, was plucked by its back wheels off the ground. Naomi and Haruno's panicked yells grinded in my ears as I pushed off the back of Haruno’s seat. I didn’t even need to see the cause. Please. Only one person could’ve done this and despite my preparation my mind still reeled from everything.

Things only got worse as sunlight began vanishing as vines covered the windows and devoured the car. It was freaky as hell, and even though I knew they wouldn’t kill us I involuntarily shook. I blame the concussion-strengthened chill whatever. The entire car rocked as the vines squeezed tighter, sending showers of glass on us as the windows finally gave way. How the hell were they crushing us? The car was metal against freaking vines. Well, ability vines, but still.

“W-What’s happening?!” Haruno yelled in trepidation.

“S-Stop Steinbeck…!” I weakly growled. All this shaking was not helping in the slightest. If anything it was as if my head became some pinball in an old game machine terrorize by a group of children.

Oddly enough, it appeared to work. Good. Now if we could only get rid of the migraine, aching bones, and nausea. Oh. And Naomi and Haruno’s confused gazes. Can’t forget about that. Guess I did sorta spiel a name I shouldn’t have known… Really gotta stop doing that.

“Apologies ladies,” Steinbeck’s voice sounded, saving me from their gazes as both leaned over to peer at the man and Lovecraft below.

Thankfully his attention remained largely on them. Yet another saving grace from the guy. Would have to buy him some grape seeds later as thanks. As for now, curling into a ball of pain seemed good enough. My head rang, and it felt like I’d been hit by a bus. Ironic given how things were going to end.

More worrisome, however, was the lack of visions. Why weren’t they coming? Were they seriously waiting until I got a blank piece of paper and pen? Very courteous, but very annoying. At least nothing major was happening. In fact that weird thing that happened with Chuuya and Dazai popped in again and I could understand them without having to understand them. It would’ve been much nicer if my head wasn’t about to explode and Steinbeck could lay off the fear tactics.

Gosh… I groaned, barely able to keep my eyes open. Didn’t want to close them now. Could rest after Q was done. How depressing is that? We still had like five hours til then and there’s no chance I’m sleeping with that demonic child roaming around the same train car.

The chilling displacement fought with my aching body, both tugging at my consciousness until I was reduced to a helpless rope in tug-o-war. It was maddening and I half begged one to just win so I could hope to adjust to everything and do more than curl up in the backseat. Heck, it was all I could do to crawl up the window and peer outside. How in the world was I supposed to run when I couldn’t stand? There’s no chance Naomi and Haruno were going to leave me (or I at least hoped that trait remained true in them), but if they stayed then…

Damn. Everything was getting too much again.

“You… You are like me. Thus you can hear me, correct?”

A strikingly clear voice abruptly blew away the chilly disorientation, leaving me breathless and I think in shock as the pain vanished as well. Well, not completely but enough that the tremendous weight shoved off me at long last.

Who was that? The guy from my dreams? Oh, don’t tell me he’s haunting my waking hours as some demented hallucination. Last we met he called me a pitiful abomination and let me tumble into a black abyss. Yeah, not exactly the type of guy you’d go running toward. More like far, far away.

Fortunately it turned out Mr. Mysterious Hallucination was not the source. Sadly the real one wasn’t much better as I peered down and locked eyes with Lovecraft. My stomach plummeted. Don’t freaking tell me. Did the guy have a secret power we didn’t know of, or… Gosh. Were we connected? How? Why? Because I didn’t belong and neither did he? Well, sort of.

I stayed silent, although with this telepathy thing I don’t know how accurate that was as my mind went haywire. Could he hear all that? If so he did a wonderful job keeping a straight face as I inwardly screeched. Why Lovecraft? Elise was bad enough, but to be linked to this guy… Ahh… My luck.

When he opened his mouth, I tensed, not really sure if I wanted to hear his actual voice or the one in my head. Was that where the chill was coming from? Did he somehow bring it? Was it one-sided or did he feel it too? How did he know how to control it? Or was it a dumb lucky guess thing?

I never got the chance to ask (or at least I think I didn’t) as Steinbeck callously crushed the car some more – to the point we had to duck as the ceiling dropped a little too close for comfort. Never been claustrophobic, but if things kept going like they were, then we were all going to develop it.

Where were Kunikida and Tanizaki? Any minute now we were going to be a seriously unappealing car sandwich.

Screams from the two in the front threatened to consume me in their panic as more glass rained on us. Instinctually I covered my head and curled up, wanting as little area for the glass to cut me as possible. I thought they were supposed to capture us alive not mushed. Although there were other clerks… Gosh. No. Don’t think of that now. It’d be my luck for them to throw us off the cliff and chase after the others.

A sharp bang sliced through our tension, making us jump and the two yelp. My heart pounded, but for the first time since they began tormenting us a spark of hope lit it. That was a gun shot, one that I held no doubt came from Kunikida. Indeed, a quick glance out the window showed the man above a fallen Lovecraft. Shame he couldn’t stay down.

“Naomi!” Tanizaki yelled, suddenly appearing right in front of her door. Sweet that he cared but his tunnel vision was a bit irritating. I mean what were Haruno and I? Dead meat?

The orange-haired man didn’t seem to even notice as he made quick work of the vines with a rather sizeable dagger. Was that a part of his ability or did the Agency actually carry them? Questions abound, but answers could definitely wait. Cause this place was quickly becoming unappealing as Kunikida shot at Steinbeck below to give us time to escape.

Escape to another death trap.

Gosh. I bit my lip, trying not to scream as Tanizaki pulled me from the backseat after Haruno and Naomi began descending the vines. It was a bit tricky, but nothing all those ropes courses didn’t prepare me for.

“Violet-san,” Tanizaki spoke up, and it wasn’t until I recognized his hands around my shoulders that I realized I was still shaking like a leaf. He gave a weak attempt at a reassuring smile, squeezing my shoulder for an extra level of comfort while saying, “Go. Dazai-san and Atsushi-san are waiting ahead.”

I know he meant to calm me and give me hope, but all I could think of was Q and Atsushi wreaking havoc. Not like I could tell him that even if I wanted. As bad as Q was, at least I knew how that was going to end. If Tanizaki knew what we were about to run into – what Naomi was about to walk into – he’d undoubtedly keep us here. It was a nice sentiment but would throw off the story. I’d already tackled that beast enough times and really didn’t need that wrestle right now.

Nodding in the best form of I-know-we’re-not-out-of-the-fire-and-are-actually-about-to-jump-into-it-but-can’t-tell-you-that-cause-butterfly-effect reassurance I could muster, I turned and followed after Naomi and Haruno. Luckily they weren’t track stars and I caught up with ease even with the scrapes and dizzying headache. I raised a hand to my head, pulling away as a damp sensation met my fingers. Damn. Must’ve gotten cut earlier from Steinbeck’s brutal attack. I held a sudden urge to look in the mirror but didn’t really want to see the state of myself just yet.

Kinda had more important things to worry about, like getting to that train.

Sad that the entire time my stress levels only skyrocketed as I waited for Steinbeck’s vines to ensnare us. Each step away brought more confidence and relief to Haruno and Naomi, but it only worried me more. Not like getting caught here was vital for story purposes, but it’d reassure that at least Kunikida and Tanizaki were alright.

When the train came into view, my stomach began doing flips. Gosh. Where were the vines? Shouldn’t they have come by now? Oh God. Don’t tell me Tanizaki and Kunikida are in trouble. Damn. I should’ve stayed behind to help them… What was I going to do now? There’s no way I could make it back to them in time now. And even then there’s no telling what would happen if I got close to Lovecraft after his freaky telepathy thing.

Gosh. Was I turning into some monster like him? He said we were alike… Oh gosh. I mean it’s not completely off considering things since I don’t belong in this world. But does anyone like being called some monster crawling from a swamp? It hardly appeals personally. And I didn’t want to get any more of his creepy fascination and chills. No thank you. If anything it’d only make things worse for all of us.

But if Kunikida and Tanizaki’s lives are in danger… Gosh. What do I do?

“Kya!” Haurno suddenly hit the ground.

My heart leapt to my throat. Should I be relieved or terrified that a vine ensnared her ankle?

“Haruno…!” I gasped in a weak echo of Naomi’s shout, “Haruno-san!”

Oh gosh. I shrunk closer to Naomi, nerves on edge. Would it be detrimental to the storyline if I let her avoid being captured? Or myself? Not trying to get up close and personal with vines that crushed a car. No thank you. Not this ki-

Without warning the tree beside Naomi erupted into vines like jagged teeth hungrily chomping down on its prey. I sucked in a hasty breath, and despite holding no desire to meet the grapes of wrath, I shoved Naomi away – the momentum sending me right into its jaws.

“Violet-chan!” Naomi screamed.

Wish I could’ve replied but the mass jerked me off the ground, nearly slamming my already bruised head into the tree. Would’ve knocked me out. Don’t know if that makes me glad or not though.

The tendrils tightened with each thrash I gave – like an anaconda slowly squeezing the air out of me. It was terrifying, and only grew worse as Naomi suddenly leapt up to begin tugging at the vines. What was she doing?

“N-No! Don’t!” I stammered. Whenever something like this happens in a world like this, nothing good results. Unfortunately it was too little too late.

A vine wrapped around Naomi and snagged her away, tearing a startled yelp from her throat. Tension built in my jaw as she rudely met a tree trunk across from me. What was Steinbeck doing? Did he really have such jerky movements or was this some rough housing to get the others riled up? Either way, it ticked me off.

The whole powerful beating on the powerless, while not completely true here, boiled my blood.

And a good thing as it gave my head enough energy to recall one thing. Steinbeck’s vines. They connected Q to the tree so he felt their pain. That meant right now he was feeling what they felt, right? It was a shot in the dark, but at least it was something instead of merely waiting for Tanizaki to finish the guy off.

As easy as that would be, I could no longer sit still and watch the Guild bring harm to the people who cared for me. The people who sought my well-being and protected me even though I’d only bring them down. When I made their live difficult. When I shouldn’t even explain myself or my actions.

When my last name pretty much connected me to their enemy.

Squirming in the vines, I managed to shift my shoulder up just enough to bite down on the vine covering it as if my life depended on it. Not too far off, but I’m fairly certain if this was skin I’d be tasting blood. Ugh. Sorry. Bad image. Left a vile taste on my tongue that’s for sure. Or maybe that’s the vine. Regardless, much to my surprise it seemed to do the trick as seconds later I found myself plummeting to the ground. Ouch. Guess I should’ve waited for him to rest me a bit closer. Oh well. Naomi and Haruno appeared to be freed as well. I’d take the scrapes and bruises.

“Naomi, Haruno, are you-?”

I never had the chance to finish as my throat constricted violently. Or, rather, was wrapped inside thick vines that jerked me to my tiptoes. White sparks lined my vision and a horrid sound escaped my throat – the last before all air cut off. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. I screwed up big time. Was he ticked that I bit him? Please. The drama queen just tried to squish us earlier. What’d he expect?

Guess not me chomping his vines. Sheesh. Won’t do it next time. I’d like to say that lightly but unfortunately it appeared a bit literally. Yeah. I messed up big time

I reached to try and pry them away, feeling more vines crawl up my arms and legs. Faintly I heard Naomi and Haruno scream my name, but everything was tunneling. My head pounded, now from oxygen loss, and I couldn’t even open my eyes.

Looks like I was going to get that rest a little sooner than I thought. Hopefully when the time came they wouldn’t wait for me and jump onto the train. Q was a nasty fire but I couldn’t promise staying behind with me was any better.

In fact, I feared it was a terribly worse inferno. 

Notes:

Okay I'm like thirty minutes away from an exam and probably shouldn't be doing this but what the heck.

Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos that were super nice and super sweet. Writing about Naomi being a thief was kinda fun and given how in the manga they escape via a staff member's car I couldn't resist adding that bit

Thank you all and have a lovely week ♥

Chapter 23: Out of the Frying Pan

Summary:

Sometimes we are so enthralled by the blaze that we forget to worry about the knife at our backs.

“Watch over her for us, okay?”

“Don’t let her out of your sight.”

Two requests. Simple enough, right? Protect and care for Violet in Dr. Yosano’s absence, and keep her close during the evacuation.

Two orders.

How was it possible they were about to fail both at the same time?

Haruno fought back the stinging tears in her eyes. Her breaths came sparsely as a bolt of pain shot up her ankle. The vine from earlier snagged it the wrong way – not enough to break but sufficient to make standing and walking uncomfortable. Even then she pushed it away, focus keenly tuned on the woman whose form grew less and less visible under dark brown, almost black vines.

Vines that constricted around her throat and cut off her pained cry.

“Violet-chan!” Naomi screamed, reaching the blonde first. Her fingers pulled at the tendrils around her neck, the woman’s arms pinned to her body; only allowing the fingertips of one hand to brush against the vines slowly suffocating her.

Swiftly Haruno jumped up on the other side of the woman and tugged at the vines. Yet despite their efforts they barely budged. Icy terror flooded her veins as they began curling around them once more. This time like a lazy serpent too engrossed in strangling its prey to care about the mice at its tail.

To make matters worse, with each second she felt Violet’s energy dwindle away.

With no other option, Haruno yelled out in desperation to the ability user far too distant to hear, “Please, stop!”

As if things weren’t chaotic enough, a sharp whistle cut through their calls. Haruno’s heart skipped a beat as Naomi gasped, “The train…!”

It was beginning to depart. No! Haruno grit her teeth. Just a little more time, that’s all they needed… And yet would it matter? They were powerless to save Violet – something that brought wave upon wave of guilt and self-loathing. Why? Why couldn’t they protect her? Why couldn’t they be strong like the others?

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she narrowed them at Violet’s pale face, her struggles all but nonexistent as her furrowed brows began to decline in submission. Any moment now she’d faint from oxygen loss, and then… Haruno bit her lip. What were they going to do? If they didn’t act soon it wouldn’t matter if they saved her – the train would be gone. Should they give up on her and flee? Or stay and risk capture and burdening the Agency?

The answer was clear, yet it did nothing to calm the silent plea rising inside.

“Please…” Haruno lowered her head, “Somebody help us…!”

Much to her surprise, her prayer was answered as the vines suddenly went slack. In a chorus of yells, the trio fell to the ground in a heap. Haruno shook, still stunned from the turn of events – Naomi breathing heavily in the same stupor.

One broken by heavy coughs that shook the form between them.

“V-Violet-chan!” Haruno swiftly turned to pry the loose vines from her, wincing at the red lines left behind on her arms and neck.

Violent coughs prevented the woman from replying, her eyes scrunched closed and brimmed with tears in testimony to the pain she felt. Nevertheless an upwelling of relief spilt out as Haruno exhaled. While not glad for her pain, it at least testified she was still alive. Hope remained. They could still keep their word…

“Haruno-san…!” Naomi grunted, tugging her arm as she rose, “The train…we need to run, now!”

Right. Haruno tensed, forcing her aching body up. They weren’t safe just yet. And if they weren’t quick they would miss their escape. The path Tanizaki and Kunikida fought so hard to provide for them.

“Violet-chan, come on!” she tugged at her. If the blonde was unable to move, then there was no chance they’d be able to carry her and make it to the train on time. Her heart skipped a beat as the locomotive began inching forward, “Violet-chan!”

“I-I’m okay…!” the named choked out, staggering up on unsteady feet. Her face contorted in pain, and she kept a hand over the deep red lines across her throat but managed to rasp, “Let’s go!”

While deeply concerned for her, the two nodded and raced down the slope. With each passing second the locomotive picked up speed. In no time it would be too fast to catch up. They needed to move fast – to put everything they had into getting on board safely.

To her relief, Naomi easily caught up and climbed onto the back car’s ledge. Not wasting a moment she snatched Haruno’s hand, pulling her beside her and quickly reaching for their companion, “Violet-chan, grab my hand!”

The blonde reached desperately, her former speed cut in half as she panted harshly. Haruno’s blood chilled. Would she make it in time? Terror threatened to seize her but she pushed through it to reach out as far as her body would allow without falling off, “Violet-chan!”

In a burst of energy, Violet grit her teeth and pushed forward with the last remnant of her strength. Her fingers brushed against theirs tantalizingly. Hope and joy built in the two as her hand neared theirs. She was going to make it. They all were going to make it. By some miracle they actually escaped. They-

Just as their relief pinnacled, a ruthless spear shattered it as Violet suddenly stiffened; her feet abruptly freezing in their tracks. What…? Haruno’s smile contorted into horror, her eyes nearly as wide as the blonde’s olive ones. Confusion and fear sparked yellow in her eyes, yet they too were steadily being pushed back by a chilling vacancy that made the two clerks suck in short breaths.

What was happening? Was she having another panic attack? Did she get hurt? Or… Was this her ability?

Fear planted itself firmly in the brunette as she desperately reached out to the blonde’s distancing form, “Violet-chan!”

Haruno’s scream was loud enough to hear miles away, and yet it was chillingly distant in my ears – receding with all the other noises and sensations around me. My breath caught as images of Fitzgerald attacking Atsushi zoomed by my left ear, temporarily covering Naomi and Haruno’s forms on the back of the train.

After days without attention, my visions were throwing a tantrum. And at the worst time ever. My head spun, feet feeling numb as they hit the ground and began twisting at ever increasing angles. It wouldn’t be long before they gave out and I crashed into the tracks. Why? Why was this happening now? Couldn’t it wait just a few seconds longer when I was on board?

More visions blinded me from reality, filling my senses with hot flames, suffocating smoke, piercing screams, and cursed citizens roaming around ruined buildings. Q’s attack on Yokohama… It was horrifying to see, and it in and of itself nearly stopped me in my tracks. Be that as it may, I could tell I was losing ground fast.

“Damn…!” I cursed under my breath. Attempting to shake away the visions and cling onto the stinging pain Steinbeck’s vines left behind – to focus on Dazai’s cool pendant to keep me rooted in reality.

All to no avail as the world blurred around me, framed by maddening images and sounds and smells that finally grew too much to take. My feet tangled, sending a small bolt of pain up my leg as I fell. I could feel Haruno and Naomi’s terror without looking at them and I prayed it’d keep them frozen on that train.

With or without me, they needed to get to Dazai and Atsushi. It was their only sure shot of getting out of this war alive.

Hopefully I could manage the same as I gave into the rising visions. At least they would dull the impact that awaited…

One that would wait a little longer as a pair of hands suddenly tugged me off my feet. What…? Who? The moment I went to look static and manic laughter flooded my consciousness. Insane colors and dark wonderland features infected the space around me. Q’s ability was wreaking havoc, and I struggled to cover my ears in an attempt to block out Atsushi’s agonized screams – curling in on myself in the process.

His torment made bile rise in my throat and I think I may have whimpered in reality. Hopefully whoever plucked me up didn’t notice. Whoever they were. Gosh… My stomach suddenly dropped. What if it was a member of the Guild? Would I really be captured? Was I doomed to drag the Agency down?

“You will bring misfortune to them. Such is your very existence…”

I gasped in my hellish vision, finding a distorted image of the grey-hooded man frowning coldly at me, repeating his cruel judgement. No. That couldn’t be true. It was just some self-fulfilling prophecy. I wasn’t some bringer of misfortune. I couldn’t be… I…!

Something rumbled from my right side to my left, yet before I could question it further a weightless sensation pried my eyes open. Air surrounded me and for a moment I hung suspended in oblivion before a pair of hands latched on and tugged me back. Harsh, unrelenting metal slammed into my side, knocking my breath away and sealing my eyes shut once more.

“Violet-chan!” voices echoed in my ears and weakly I pried open an eye.

Blurred scenery drifted away with growing speed – a grey mass shrinking with each second. Nevertheless, it was not yet far enough that I couldn’t make out his familiar form and grey hood shrouding his features as he and the barrage of visions graciously began to disappear in the distance along with everything else as blackness ate away my vision. Good riddance.

Faintly I felt what must’ve been Naomi and Haruno support me, but they too faded as I leaned into them. Maybe we’d all get out alive after all.

Of course we still had one monumental obstacle to overcome before that, whose manic laughter already haunted my dreams as I succumbed to the black.

 

…

 

Oddly enough no demons materialized in the abyss, just endless darkness that blurred any and all sense of time. It was one of those sleeps where you’re more unconscious than sleeping. The ones that pretty much don’t do a thing besides burn time and leave you more exhausted than when you first passed out.

Only this one diverged in that respect. Childlike giggles and eerily familiar high-pitched voices are one hell of an alarm clock.

And sure fire way of waking up instantaneously.

That sounded like Q. Oh gosh, that’s right. We were on the train. The one Mori idiotically let Q on. Why? What on Earth was he thinking to conclude it was a good idea to let the manic kid loose? I mean, I’m all for playing outside and getting away from electronics for growing children, but Q was a different story. They needed at least three years-worth of psychological therapy with social skills and etiquette thrown in the mix before anyone could think of letting them loose on their own.

Well, anyone but Mori apparently. Thought the guy wanted to save the city, not burn it to ashes.

Whatever. Trying to pick apart that guy’s brain was like messing with a nest of angry perverted hornets. Best let it be and hope no one kicks it across the field. Cause you know it’d be hard enough to pry Naomi and Haruno away from Q without tipping them off and starting the madness early.

Apparently the universe didn’t think it was that difficult as a blinding pain like someone shoving an ice pick into my eye nearly sent me back to the darkness. Damn. Guess I was getting those visions before passing out. Really were pushing the balance between helpful and annoying. I mean my memory was good enough and only got better as we caught up to where the series left off. Could I find the person who gave me them and respectfully decline my subscription?

It took a minute for the pain to dull to the point I could open my eyes. Unfamiliar cushioned seats rested empty before me. At least they decided to camp out in business class. Although by the few legs dangling in sight we pretty much had the car to ourselves.

Something cold and damp slithered down my arm as I shifted up, and it took all my willpower not to screech. Seriously? The one lucky snake that manage to get on this damn train picks me as its home? What were the odds? Apparently little to none as a quick look revealed not a serpent but a towel. One that left partial droplets on my forehead.

Yosano must’ve given them a crash course on Violet First Aid. At least the towel showed they listened.

Shame I couldn’t bask in my pride for them as the voice that roused me sounded unnervingly close, “A company retreat, huh? That sounds like a lot of fun!”

Gosh. Q was right behind me, and to make matters worse, Naomi and Haruno sat between us. Not that I wanted to be closer to Q, only that the one person I wanted between us and them was at the end of this hellish journey. Heck, he wouldn’t even show up until the kid drove Atsushi on an insane rampage.

My fingers brushed the pendent once more. Miracle it managed to stay on my wrist the entire time. If only it held magical properties that summoned Dazai… Too much? Guess so.

“Ah, she’s awake at last!”

Oh great. Of course he’d see.

“H-Hello…” I gave a weak attempt of a smile. Hopefully it looked more like I was in misery from my aching head than the mind controlling toddler pinning me with their unnerving eyes. Not that I didn’t like them. Honestly they were the trait I liked most.

Just not when they gazed at me like a new toy to break.

“Violet-chan!” Haruno gasped, relief flowing from her form as she and Naomi turned around, “How are you feeling?”

Like complete and utter crap about to get tossed in a blender with nails and sandspurs. Thanks for asking.

“I’m fine…” I murmured, unable to fully let Q leave my sights. Call me paranoid but I think their smile widened at my unease.

Following my gaze, Naomi clarified, “Ah, don’t worry he’s good.”

Oh if you only knew…

“Violet-chan, this is Kyusaku-kun,” she explained with a smile that physically hurt my heart, “We met earlier.”

“Nice to meet you, Violet-san,” Q greeted sunnily.

Ugh. If only I could share in their delusion that Q was some random innocent child with a creepy doll obsession. Scratch that, no. They were insane. No one normal brings large voodoo dolls around with them, especially when it’s a small kid by themself. Please. That’s not normal. That’s the beginning of a horror movie.

One I held absolutely no desire in joining at the moment. I’d have front row seats to the climax, so sitting through the climb was not necessary.

My legs wobbled a little (or maybe that was the train?) as I stood, prompting Naomi and Haruno to swiftly jump to support me. Before they could, I held out a hand and in the best attempt of a ‘I’m hurting but not that bad but need you to believe it is that bad because I don’t want to be here right now’ smile, “I am okay. Need bathroom. Don’t need help.”

“A-Alright…” Naomi replied, looking torn. Why? Was it because of nerves? Was she still uneasy after Steinbeck’s cheap shot?

“Just… Call if you need anything, understand?” Haruno instructed softly. At least now we know who to push for bribes.

I nodded, not wanting to stay in Q’s line of sight a second longer. Thankfully pictograms are a universal language and they pointed toward another car. Sure, leaving them with the killer kid wasn’t my most shining moment, but they’d be alright. Well, for now at least. And like I said, I’d be back when things really took a nose dive. So no worries.

And if the lack of a line said anything, fate was for once on my side.

Without wasting a second, I slipped into the small stall and closed the door. Stale, stereotypical bathroom smell greeted me along with cramped quarters and a small mirror for decoration more than practical use. Didn’t bother me. Not like I wanted to see how I looked in HD anyways. So long as the sink worked, I wasn’t complaining.

Turning on the faucet, I splashed water in my face. It felt amazing and made me wish it was a spring instead of a small stream of water.  But beggars can’t be choosers, and after a few minutes I was content enough to take a few scratchy paper towels and dry off.

Gosh. I looked horrid. My hair was a mess, and not in the hot way some guys can pull off. No, more like the ‘you just fell out of a tree’ vibe. Not exactly attractive, and in need of improvement pronto. Weird. I usually didn’t care about how I looked, but for some reason I cared now. Guess they weren’t kidding about near death experiences changing you.

Based on the red lines crisscrossing my throat, I’d say I more than met that criteria.

Fortunately it was nothing a little combing and creativity couldn’t tame. Indeed, a brilliant idea hit me to return Dazai’s tie to its natural place and cover over the cringe-worthy marks. Or, rather, in theory. How would he react to seeing me wear it like this? I mean it’s not exactly farfetched, but wearing someone else’s clothes? Yes, I know, it’s a freaking bolo tie don’t overthink it Violet. But right now my mind was comparing it to wearing his shirt and pants.

My cheeks burned. No. Don’t think about it. It’s either this or the marks. He’ll understand.

Besides there’s a mountain between that, and if this luck held out I’d be able to take it off before he even noticed…. Yeah, with his hawk eyes? Nice sentiment.

Still, how was I even going to handle Q’s attack? Should I play innocent bystander? Or try to intervene? Maybe push Atsushi out of the way and take the hit? It’d suck, but at least I held the knowledge that nothing was real. But what if that ticked Q off? And didn’t Atsushi get some character development through that?

It was like being stuck between getting torn apart by tiger claws and getting my mind shredded by a crazy toddler. Neither particularly appealed, and yet… If I could save Atsushi some grief and sorrow, would that cover the consequences of my intervention? I mean, I could easily learn a few kind words or draw something to get the lesson across afterwards.

Besides, if I really wanted to change this misfortune harbinger stigma, the least I could do was start with bringing some light to that poor kid’s life.

Great. Game plan set and not a moment too soon as I felt the train slow to a stop. Okay. I inhaled deeply. Time to face demented wonderland. Hopefully all those tormenting visions were enough to give me some odds in fighting off his nerve-wrecking ability.

A whistle sounded, signaling me to get a move on before my plan went up in flames. And not wanting to give up before things even started, I dashed out to catch up with the others. Come on, come on… Crowd weaving skills don’t fail me now…

Right as I entered the cart before the one Naomi and the others’ were in, a couple stood up. Great. Just what I needed. Although I held an idea how to get by them. Now whether it would end well… We’ll just have to wait and see.

Not wasting a second, I climbed over the seats. It was amazing. I managed to jump them with ease and finesse I’m sure I was only imagining. Still, it gathered the couple’s impressed gazes. Something I paid far too much attention in as they blinded me from the person behind them. Yep. Figures. Managed to avoid face planting only to collide with a person.

A surprised gruff sounded above as I pushed back, stammering as adrenaline lingered in my veins, “S-Sorry! Are you o-?”

Oh God. You know how I mentioned adrenaline was igniting my veins? Well it just froze as my vision finally widened beyond the door and my plan. A plan that now all but disintegrated as the person shifted his arms around my shoulders.

How did we miss him? How did he manage to stay out of sight? Was he here canonically? Or was this another altercation because of me? None of it mattered because he was here now. And my horrid luck was back with a vengeance.

Out of all people, what were the odds of running into Fitzgerald seconds before disaster?

Seconds? No. Disaster already had its hands around me.

Notes:

Guess who survived their exam despite being distracted by an adorable kitten and nearly having a panic attack over shaky internet signal?

As you may be able to tell, the story from here on diverges from the main one. Thought it would be interesting if Fitzgerald, having predicted Mori's movements with Louise's ability came to watch things pan out (I Really want Louise and Mori to interact in the manga like some ability vs skill competition to see whose logic comes out on top minus the fact that doing so would quite possibly crush my heart and mind (as if Dazai and Fyodor's cryptic tenth meaning words aren't enough torture on my mind)).

Thank you once more for the lovely comments and support ♥

Until next time~

Chapter 24: Into the Fire

Summary:

Illusions we perceive in the fire burn all the same

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. The man who threatened our lives, who sought to wipe us all out for the sake of finding some book no one knew for sure even resided in this city but probably did because anime and all that, stood inches away.

F. Scott Fitzgerald was aboard the train, and his presence crushed any and all hopes of making it out of this nightmare.

“Don’t worry, I am fine…” he trailed off; voice growing distant as he at last looked down at me. I didn’t like the astonished look on his face whatsoever, or the haunting vibe in his tone as he breathed, “You…”

No. No thank you. Not now. Not this. Not him. I jerked away. Away? Hardly. All of the sudden his grip turned to steel and I barely budged a millimeter. Crap. Did he recognize me from the Agency? Why-?

“Scottie…?” Fitzgerald murmured as if he was seeing a ghost.

Scottie? Who…? Oh God. Don’t tell me.

Was that his daughter’s name?

If so I really didn’t like how he said it without breaking eye contact for a second. Feel like a monumental misunderstanding is about to blow up in my face in T-minus three seconds.

“N-No! I’m…!” I pushed against him, hoping his stupor froze him like normal people.

It didn’t. If anything it was the reverse as instead of losing focus on his grip he strengthened it and then some – pulling me into a bear hug. Oh gosh. My stomach flipped and if my throat managed to open I’m certain I’d have puked then and there. This was not good. Eons from good. Just when I thought my luck couldn’t get bad enough, it decided to surprise me.

Out of everyone in the world, why did I have to be compared to Fitzgerald’s daughter? No. It’s impossible. This had to be a ruse; he must’ve found out about my name and was using it against me in some malicious tactic or whatnot. He meant nothing but to fool me. We both knew it. And yet…

If that was the case, why was he hugging me so tightly with no one from the Agency around to see us?

No. That doesn’t matter. I could have Dazai and the others pick apart his mind later, when there’d be a good hundred feet and a team of ability users between us.

“L-Let go!” Adrenaline surged back and by some miracle I managed to thrash my way out of his arms. Awesome, now to just get outside to Atsushi and the oth-

Wait. Oh gosh. What if Fitzgerald joined Q’s chaos? What if he chose now to take Atsushi? That’d surely throw a thousand things off. But what else could I do? Run the other way? As much as I wanted to preserve storyline and all, the idea of staying alone with the guy any longer hardly appealed. Maybe he wouldn’t notice? Yeah right, the guy had a laser eye when it came to Atsushi at this point in the story.

Whatever, I could think about that later. As of now I needed out pron-

Without warning Fitzgerald’s hand snatched my wrist, jerking me to a stop, “Wait!”

I froze. I understood him. Yeah, no duh. Japanese may not be my forte and I was still a ways from fluent but even that one was obvious without context clues. But the thing is, even if I didn’t know a sliver of Japanese, it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because he said it in English.

“L-Let go…” I replied in Japanese.

Sure, hearing my native language was refreshing, but letting him know that probably wouldn’t end well. Feeding the delusion of a man who literally held the power to destroy all Yokohama wasn’t the best idea. Hence the other language. Maybe it’d show him that I wasn’t his daughter. Unless she knew Japanese as well… Ahhh, please tell me that isn’t the case.

Unfortunately he already appeared to have made up his mind on the matter and increased the pressure on my wrist. Not enough to hurt, just so that the message was clear.

One I did not like at all.

Adrenaline shot forward, and I pulled with all my weight on his grip. Kinda pointless given his ability, but that’s the drawback of nerves I suppose. They give a burst of strength in exchange for cohesive thought. Not exactly the best choice, but in the face of desperation a light I eagerly reached for.

Only for it to be snatched away as Fitzgerald deftly tugged back, forcing me to collide with his chest once more – this time his arms ensnared me instead of letting me fall away. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straightly or even move. My heart pounded and my vision spun.

“Atsu-!” my voice cut off as he pressed my head further into his chest, rendering my attempts null in despairing seconds.

This wasn’t good. Why was he hugging me? Was he trying to keep me quiet? Why? Did he want to silence me? Or, oh gosh, did I just undo all of Kunikida and Tanizaki’s efforts? Was he going to make me the new hostage? But what about all that Scottie talk? Was that some deception? Or did he truly mean it?

Either way I didn’t care. All I wanted was away. Q sucked, but Fitzgerald sucked more. I shoved and thrashed in his arms, relentlessly trying to get away. At least if the others saw us they’d get the picture that I did not want this. Maybe then they’d see that we weren’t related or, at the very least, were not on friendly terms.

Without warning, Fitzgerald returned at arm’s length, but not because of my efforts. No, he let go. Why? Was he giving up? Or was this another part of his plan? The guy was the leader of the Guild. He had to have some strategic whit. Only problem was I held no clue what. This didn’t happen in the story. It was new territory, and that terrified me so much my vision began swimming.

“You…” I grudgingly met his somber expression, “You look a lot like my daughter, but you cannot possibly be her…”

Yeah. That’s what I was saying earlier. Your point? Does this mean you’ll leave me alone? Maybe then the world would settle a little…

Faint relief blew over with his sigh, only to freeze as he raised his hand enough that the empty syringe pulled into my line of sight. Empty. Oh gosh. Oh gosh… The world swayed violently, and I held a sinking feeling it wasn’t purely from nerves.

My instincts screamed to run, yet the moment the urge crossed my mind my knees buckled – sending me crashing into the train’s chair for whatever feeble support it gave. He drugged me. He injected something that slowly stole my consciousness. This spelt nothing good. No, if anything it screamed my worst fears.

This was far from a casual talk. No. He came to accomplish what his lackeys failed to do.

We managed to escape one fire, only to jump into a new inferno.

The train shook, this time for real. Atsushi’s rampage began; he was losing his mind thanks to Q’s ability. My heart sank both for the precious teen and the cold reality that help would not arrive in time. I was on my own. Drugged and steadily losing all feeling in my bones against one of the deadliest men in Yokohama.

The fire raged around me, growing ever hotter and menacing as I met his blue eyes. Oddly enough they weren’t cold. Instead there appeared to be…pity? Was that real? Or another hallucination?

Static filled my head and vision, and an invisible hand steadily pushed me downwards as Fitzgerald knelt before me, “Be that as it may, you hold use as a hostage against those stubborn fools.”

No. No, no, no. I couldn’t let this happen. I wouldn’t let my presence change things – especially not like this. What did I do? I should’ve stayed with Naomi and Haruno. I should’ve never left them. I should’ve faced Q with them. Then this wouldn’t have happened. Oh gosh… Was I about to cost the Agency everything?

The drug at last squeezed me in a vice grip, stealing my vision and forcing me to slump against the chair. I wanted to cry, to lament my misfortune. Misfortune that caused nothing but dismay for those around me. That man was right. As hard as I tried to deny it, to force it away, it always came back.

My presence here was no blessing. It was a curse.

One that would consume everyone like the black void that engulfed me in seconds.

 

...

 

Shoes slapped against the pavement, sending ripples of adrenaline through heavy air. Time was of the essence. An unthinkable tactic whose consequences ricocheted with lethal repercussions and no partiality in terms of allies or enemies.

Yumeno Kyusaku was released.

A curse fell from his lips as Dazai raced around the corner. He knew Mori’s plans were anything but simple, yet letting that kid loose? Was it an act of desperation? Hardly. If anything Port Mafia held the high ground. Desperation tactics were illogical. That man always operated on logic, so there had to be a reason.

One that could wait until later as a yell cut through the air.

Dazai grimaced. Q’s attack began. He could only hope that they would survive until he made it there to nullify the horrid ability. How did he discount this possibility? To be fair it was farfetched, and yet completely up that man’s alley… A rumbling shook the small station, nearly causing his feet to stumble. There was only one thing that could accomplish that.

Beast Beneath the Moonlight. Atsushi fell under Q’s control. Was he the only one? Or were Naomi, Haruno, and Violet affected as well?

His frown deepened. They just managed to evade the Guild’s claws only to fall into Port Mafia’s snare. A perfectly calculated plan. One he hoped Violet’s ability helped to mitigate the damages. And yet was that enough? Knowing the future, even mere seconds, gave her a substantial advantage. Be that as it may, Mori as an opponent significantly grounded that leg up.

Against such an opponent… Her ability would certainly be tested. Dazai’s eyes narrowed.

Was that his purpose in endangering all of Yokohama with Q’s ability? Was the target not the Agency or its clerks, but Violet?

His stomach churned, growing worse as he turned the corner to find Atsushi dangerously stalk Naomi – Haruno injured on the ground and looking ready to pass out from the stress. Dazai grimaced. Perhaps Violet’s ability was too late. Either way, he needed to act fast. He could pick apart Mori’s plan later when they were safe from the monstrous ability user whose shrill voice grated in their ears.

“You’ll be killed if you don’t think of something soon, Onee-san!”

Not on his watch. Whatever schemes ensnared them now, he’d be certain to tear them all to pieces. Letting Q out was a mistake. One he’d correct swiftly.

Seconds from disaster, Dazai bolted down the platform, keenly watching between the cars what was happening. Atsushi’s steps, Haruno’s shivering, Naomi’s pleas… Q and Violet nowhere to be found. He grit his teeth. It truly was an attack on the blonde. The others were simply caught in the crossfire Gin and Higuchi attempted to protect him from.

Dazai pushed forward, sharp eyes trained on their direction and calculating their odds of survival. At this rate he’d make it on time, but given Atsushi’s instability and swiftness… He couldn’t take any chances. Not with the lives of so many on the line should Atsushi continue his mind-controlled rampage.

One that grew distant as his gaze locked onto the second to last car blocking his path. His vision always had been good – observation skills exceptional to the point he almost prided himself on being closet to par with the likes of Ranpo. Yet at moments like these he viewed it as a curse when time seemed to slow as he peered through the glass.

His blood may be mafia-black, but it froze all the same.

Within the car, on the other side of the glass, was unmistakably Fitzgerald. What was the Guild’s leader doing here? Did Mori lure him here as well? Or… Could he have seen through the trap and come to observe their demise?

No. His purpose mirrored Higuchi and Gin’s. He wasn’t here to observe. He came to protect.

The yellow man turned, revealing a figure whose presence slowed time to almost a complete stop. His jaw clenched. His voice nonexistent as he stared in aghast as Violet's head lolled unconsciously against Fitzgerald’s chest; his arms carefully keeping her close.

Dazai’s stomach churned. A horrid choice lay before him.

Choice? No. The logical answer remained clear – punctuated by Haruno’s terrified yelp on the other side of the train. Their danger was far greater than the one holding Violet, and yet…

The bandaged man grimaced. Their main concern in keeping Violet with them came to pass after all. Unfortunately, it rose in a fashion that led nowhere pleasant for the blonde. Dazai narrowed his eyes, feeling his heart beat painfully in his chest.

If their assumptions were correct… If they truly did know each other and he exploited her ability….

Naomi’s shout cut through his thoughts. No. He didn’t have time for this. Violet would be okay. He knew she was resourceful and smart. She’d be fine. Right now he needed to stop Q’s rampage before it got out of hand. He needed to stop Atsushi. She would be okay... Violet would be okay...

Repeating it over and over like a mantra, he tore himself away. It felt like rubbing his skin with acid, but he pushed through and darted down the tracks where Atsushi began shouting at a hallucination. Dazai grit his teeth, forcing his focus on stopping the larger of the two imminent problems. All the while a silent prayer welled up in his chest.

Forgive me, and please be okay.

Notes:

Ever had the urge to watch a horror movie alone in the dark in the middle of the night when no one's home? Yeah. Not exactly the wisest move but apparently my subconscious is addicted to keeping me up all night. Tis the season I suppose, and definitely the prep I need before going to Halloween Horror Nights ♥

Anyways, Violet goes with Fitzgerald and Dazai knows the consequences. Unfortunately we won't be hearing from him or many of the other Agency members in a while (think about a few chapters give or take?), but I am looking forward to some Guild time and the awkward cringey moments in Violet's future. Hope you all enjoy~

@Ronear: Lol when I first read your comment I was like "Crap did I upload the wrong chapter??" then saw that I didn't and kinda just laughed since it was a fairly obvious turn of events.

@seneca: Wellllll it does make for some interesting developments, especially down the road. Honestly when I first wrote the initial chapters I held no intention of making her Fitzgerald's daughter's lookalike (was going to have Fitzgerald be the one to explain "Hey, that's not my kid. She doesn't look anything like her") only for a little research to show that the real Fitzgerald's daughter looks Very much like how I designed Violet - with the exception of her eyes, as Fitzgerald and others will take notice of. Regardless, it was a bit of a surprise and got me thinking of the implications of someone looking so much like a loved one minus that one trait.

@deadbehavior: Yay! Always glad to tug someone into my madness. And well... Would love to say she's gonna speak some English but might still be a distant thing. As for the Agency finding out, well, I don't suppose that will be very pretty either. Still, they got a ways until that point.

Thank you all for the lovely comments and support! Hope you have a fantastic week!

Chapter 25: The Princess and the Pauper

Summary:

Sometimes we're so focused on what makes us different that we forget the similarities that tie us together.

Soft morning light filtered through a lone window, catching particles of dust and transforming them into fireflies that descended in a mesmerizing dance. Lace curtains swayed, bringing some color and life to the room that sat vacant in hopes of one day being filled. Although it likely never saw this coming.

Unwillingly I let my eyes open and peered at the light through plush sheets that wrapped like silk around me. A distinct aroma like that of my grandma’s house filled my lungs – that musty yet oddly soothing smell. One I didn’t know how to feel about.

Two days passed since Fitzgerald brought me here aboard Moby Dick. The Guild’s invisible, flying fortress courtesy of Hemingway.

Whether it was the lingering drugs or my nerves, everything passed by in a dream-like manner. I’d wake up in this dainty room, sit and gaze out the window, eat whatever offering was brought my way, gaze a little more, perhaps roam the room a bit, and then fall back asleep. It was like clockwork, only with more strain as Fitzgerald occasionally popped in or had one of his underlings report my status. The guy’s obsession was so obvious I didn’t even have to speculate.

Given the framed photo on the dresser across from me, it’s hardly a surprise.

Scottie Fitzgerald, the man’s daughter, stood beaming beside someone I could only assume was Zelda. Her image was freaking spot on to the reflection in the mirror. Well, not quiet. I had major bedhead and held no energy to relieve it. Also, while her eyes were a soft baby blue, mine were the same ugly yellow-green they’d always been. Still, the resemblance was creepy. And totally my luck.

As if sharing surnames wasn’t bad enough…

The door opened, signaling the arrival of someone I really did not have the energy to entertain. Therefore I burrowed deeper into the covers. It was a smart tactic, yet ultimately unsuccessful as the person gave an irritated sigh before stomping up and pulling away the comforter. Rude. I scowled. So much for hospitality. Why was this person so different from all the other lackeys? Did they not care? No. The answer was simpler yet more complex than that.

Paradoxes surrounded everyone in this series, and Lucy Maud Montgomery was no exception.

“Get up.”

At least I knew she was honest. Although it brought mixed feelings as resentment radiated off her form whenever we were in the same room. Why? Was it because Fitzgerald’s treatment? Please. She could have the pampering. It was freaking creepy and got old real quick. She wanted this treatment? Be my guest.

She growled something under her breath that was along the lines of “Why me?”. Read you crystal clear girly.

I’d roll my eyes if not for the fact she said it in Japanese. Was she purposely choosing that language? Why? To mock me? Or maybe she was being considerate? Everyone on board seemed to adopt the foreign language, well except Fitzgerald. He always talked to me in English, which was nice and all, but I refrained from showing I understood.

Kinda ironic considering how much I longed for a conversation I could fully participate in. As tempting as it was, he was Fitzgerald – the leader of an organization that hunted Atsushi and wanted to burn Yokohama to the ground. Not exactly the best role model therapist. Hence the oath of silence.

Something Lucy’s choice of Japanese, spitefully intended or not, greatly helped. I did want to learn the language anyways, so might as well stick with it before all of this was nothing more than a dream. Nevertheless, the underlying ire screamed in her tone and quickly grated on my temperament when she scowled down at me.

She placed a pile of folded clothes beside me. Something hinted that she really wanted to throw it in my face, but luckily for both of us she relented. What the heck? I never really had anything against Lucy. She’s a good kid with a tragic backstory like most others. Perhaps that’s why I was annoyed with her, because she was so focused on her problems that she didn’t realize we all had them.

Self-centered people like that always got to me. Please, like they didn’t annoy everyone.

Be that as it may, she eventually found her way and I held onto that future Lucy to keep from pushing this one out the window. What? Her ability would save her. I’m not that murderously inclined. Although, she was pushing that limit.

She turned and began straightening things up and pouring some tea, not bothering to leave the room. I don’t know if I was annoyed by her persistence or impressed by her knowledge that I’d likely bolt if she actually left. Like I said, Lucy was no stranger to paradoxes.

My legs groaned in protest as I stood up and pulled the simple nightgown over my head. What? Wasn’t I embarrassed to change in front of a stranger? Not really. Lucy was no stranger, and besides she was a girl. Anyone who’s ever been in a locker room long since lost any self-consciousness in changing in the presence of others of the same gender. I mean, it was all about intentions right? Don’t be a creep and stare, and everyone is alright.

For all her spite, she picked out a nice outfit – one I’m fairly certain was more of a move to knock me down to my “rightful place” as a pauper than the pampered princess she and everyone on board thought I was. Never thought I’d relate to that particular story so much. Either way, it was simple and nice – a white, long sleeved blouse with some frills that, when tucked into the long, green skirt, transformed into a quasi-dress. Matched with the black flats that peered out if I swayed, it wasn’t a bad outfit.

Still preferred my shorts and blouse, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.

Moving in beat with routine, I settled onto the bench beneath the window and stared out into the blue around us dotted precariously with wisps of grey and white. Thoughts drifted away. Good, not like I needed them screaming in my ear with things like how the others were doing, if they managed to get where they needed to be, what my presence would trigger, what to do now, how I was going to get out, how I was going to return home…

So much for letting the routine block out everything.

A sigh escaped my lips seconds before Lucy placed a steaming cup on the windowsill. Previous experience drowned the urge to drink and scald my tongue, so I settled with watching the wisps of steam dance into the air. The cushion shifted as Lucy settled behind me, carefully gathering my hair back and pulling the brush through to untangle the knots. For someone who apparently hated me, she was awfully gentle with the action. Maybe she really did pity me? Or perhaps it was a product of her upbringing? Empathy then?

Huh… Who would’ve thought?

As a kid I always hated when my mom brushed my hair. Guess I had better things to do than sit around. Now, however, the sensation was soothing beyond words to my tense shoulders. It felt amazing enough that I let my eyes partially close. After smoothing out the tangles, she stopped. Shame, I could’ve stood for a couple more minutes. At any rate, Lucy gathered strands of my hair – weaving them and securing strands with bobby pins and ties until the finished product of a fancy bun with braids along either side all held together with a white ribbon reflected transparently in the window.

Task completed, Lucy quickly departed. Shame. Moments like that gave me hope that our relationship could be more than sullen scowls and irritated glares. Guess that’d be asking too much at this point, huh?

It didn’t matter. We’d have plenty of time later to mend things… Considering we both made it that far…

Geez, I don’t mean to be depressing but everything was dragging me down lately. Thank goodness no visions popped up. That’d have pushed me over the edge for sure. And yet it hardly accomplished much in soothing the worries that only escalated whenever I stared numbly at the pendant whose cool touch felt far too distant in my palm.

Where was Dazai now? Was he alright? Had he contacted Ango yet? Were they in the hospital? What was he doing now? Did he tell Ango about me? Or kept everything under the rug? Was he looking for me? Were any of them looking for me? How would they rescue me from this? Was he planning on using Atsushi to do so? But how? When? Why?

I closed my fist around the gemstone, blocking its beautifully destructive thoughts from tormenting me further. I wished none of this would’ve happened. I wanted to go home. Away from here. Away from this madness. But most of all, I think I wanted to simply return to those initial days of bliss. The ones I knew I had to savor for this moment.

The ones that felt so far away right now.

“Good morning. Sleep any better?”

Fitzgerald’s greeting gave sound to the silent room, prompting me to pull my weary eyes his way. Was that clear enough of an answer? Sure, I probably slept for ten hours, but it felt like ten minutes. That always seemed to happen whenever I slept too much. Why? Guess it messed with the sleep cycle, but still…

“Hmm…” he murmured, inspecting the pillow I haphazardly chose to place under my head, “Perhaps a therapeutic one would help…”

Don’t think the pillow is the problem. Try again please.

“There,” he smirked at his phone as if curing cancer, “It will arrive in three hours, plenty of time to wash and refresh before you go to bed – and it only cost 32,000 yen. Not bad, not bad…”

Thirty-two thousand? Wasn’t that like $300? Ugh, rich people. I thought Fitzgerald was super prudent about his money. Apparently not. Although given his ability not surprising, and yet… Ugh. Rich people.

“And with that settled, how about some breakfast?” he held out a hand more like an expectation than offer, blue eyes darting to my now lukewarm tea, “I see your appetite is still to be wanted, but you must eat something. Don’t worry, I already arranged for a light selection.”

Yippe. Time to nibble on tasteless crackers and bland cakes.

He led us out into the hall toward the dining area – yet another part of the growing mundane routine. Throughout it all he casually spoke of his morning and stories of his youth. All really interesting but ultimately too self-absorbed for me to really remember. The gist of it was that the guy came from a pretty rough family but managed to make the most of it. However, unlike typical philanthropists who helped others after their success, he used it for his own gain. Well, not entirely. From what I gathered he was a decent man.

Up until his daughter’s death that drove him into this current mess.

It was all interesting and gave me a glimpse into his character. Not that I fell for him, only that I understood his reasoning. Again, not accepted. Just related.

Most interesting to me was the fact he spoke in English. Yeah. Duh, Violet, he’s American. It’s more of a surprise that he knows Japanese fluently. Well, fluently except for names, but that’s still leaps and bounds above most people, aka myself. All in all, it was refreshing. No. I wasn’t going to reply back in my native tongue and encourage his delusion further, but it helped to at least understand what he said.

I wonder if he knew that and thus continued for my sake…?

Nah. Not this guy. I may look like his daughter but we both knew I wasn’t.

Nevertheless, that wasn’t without its perks as the breakfast we shared was actually really freaking good. Fresh fruits that I didn’t want to know how expensive it was to fly here, and freshly baked angel food cake and teas adorned the small table overlooking pristine waters below. We were fairly far from Yokohama. Not too surprising considering how detrimental being found by either group would be for them.

The whale may be invisible, but it still cast a huge, unmistakable shadow anyone with half a whit could spot.

Everything felt like a cruise. Except for the lack of relaxation and we were miles into the atmosphere. Tiny details, I know.

“I’m glad to see you finally found something palatable,” Fitzgerald broke the somewhat nice quiet that veiled us. Guess it was bound to happen eventually.

“Yes,” I replied, careful to keep from responding in English. It was growing more and more difficult by the day. Especially as these talks grew more frequent. Was that his intention? Did he want to erase all I learned? Why?

More unnerving: why had he not played the hostage card yet? Wasn’t that the entire reason for bringing me here? And yet, to my knowledge, he’d refrained from doing anything of the sort. Indeed, this all felt too calm and peaceful for something like that.

Had his intentions changed? Why? Because I looked like his daughter? That surely couldn’t be enough to pause this war…

Curiosity got the best of me, prompting the first question in days from my lips, “Why did you bring me here?”

He blinked, surprised I at last spoke more than one word. I was about to repeat myself in fear he did not hear when he at last gave a sigh heavier than I expected. Perhaps this was wearing him down too? Great. Join the club buddy. Maybe letting me go would help both of us out. Shame it was a fleeting dream.

“Why?” he murmured, casting his gaze out the window while resting his chin in his hand, “I suppose that is a valid question…”

Yeah. Care to answer without the drama and riddles?

“Why did I bring you here? Why would I go through such lengths to keep someone I logically know is not Scottie safe and pampered…?” I stiffened. So he did realize that. So why? Why was he-?

Before I could ask, he shifted and looked directly at me, giving an almost innocent smile as he finished, “I suppose the easy answer is that, my daughter or not, I simply could not bear to watch you burn. Count yourself lucky in that regard.”

Lucky? Lucky that while my friends and loved ones and innocents burn, I get to be tucked safely away in the skies above eating damn fruit? What sort of twisted compliment was that? This wasn’t luck. It was the epitome of misfortune. I’d never experienced survivor’s guilt, but I certainly never wanted to.

Especially not like this.

I glared at him and had to bite down on my lips to keep from cursing him out. He was protecting me because I looked like his daughter. Because of freaking looks. Like some damn Nazi. I never really hated Fitzgerald, but now I practically couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. He was horrible and unspeakable. I hated him and wanted to push him off the whale.

But the reality of his aid later on kept me still. Of course he’d have to play a vital role.

Be that as it may, his intentions and words were chilling. Did he mean to imply that should the quest for the Book go up in flames with the city, I’d serve as some warped replacement? Seriously? Was he that crazy? There’s no way. Although even if the Book was found by him, I doubt it’d work. From what I gathered in the series before coming here, the Book changed reality at a price. Certain requirements must be met in order to change things.

Thus unless those requirements were fulfilled, Scottie Fitzgerald was not returning.

Unless a lookalike was one of those necessities.

Bile rose in my throat as I subconsciously shrank a little under his gaze. Was that the true reason for keeping me safe? Did he know about the Book’s workings? Was he planning on sacrificing me later? Was that why he allowed all this now?

If so, he hid it fairly well as Fitzgerald rose from his seat and smiled softly, “The life of a leader is with little rest. There’s still much to accomplish, and I think those people have had enough rest, don’t you think?”

Those people? Did he mean Port Mafia and the Agency?

“Enjoy your day. Like always, if you need anything, simply tell anyone and they will bring it to you promptly,” he finished and began to turn away.

However, my pounding heart at his implications and knowledge of what awaited led me to nearly topple the table over as I swiftly stood up, “Wait! What about Atsushi?”

Fitzgerald paused, blinking at the name, “Atsushi?”

Geez. Can’t he at least remember the name of the poor kid he’s traumatizing?

“The tiger,” I clarified, not bothering to hide the sour note in my voice.

“Ah, the tiger-boy,” he smiled, the expression far from a normal one and twisted with mal-intentions galore, “Do not worry. I will make sure to bring back your beloved kitten alive, but no promises on him being fully intact. He was a naughty one for running away, after all, and all pets need some discipline if they are to remain inside.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to shiver or throw up at his implications, but settled with a frown as he turned and disappeared down the hallway without an ounce of remorse for the poor teen he dragged to the center of this disaster. Either way, it was enough to absolutely destroy my appetite for the rest of the day.

Out of instinct, I folded my napkin and neatly arranged everything into one pile for the ease of the waiter. As much as I disliked them, I held that much dignity. Besides, not like most of them held much choice at this point. How many were even aware that their boss was about to obliterate an entire city and murder countless?

Did I want to know?

Not really. Ignorance is bliss and in painfully short supply for me in this world. I’d take what I could get.

Muscle memory guided me back, although it wouldn’t be necessary much longer. The hallways and faces were beginning to grow familiar. Something I didn’t know if I enjoyed or not. Sure, not getting lost was nice, but I never wanted to be here in the first place. More and more paradoxes to cloud my mind…

What do I do? What can I do? Try and escape? Try and warn everyone and save as many as I could? Would I be in time? Please, I say that like escaping is actually possible…

Seconds before faceplanting into my bed, my heart skipped a beat as my fingers brushed against the skin of my wrist. Yes. Very shocking. Should I expect dragon scales or feathers? No. But I did expect to find that familiar soft tie and smooth pendant. Something that completely vanished from the area.

Dazai’s pendant. I lost Dazai’s pendant.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no…. My nerves spiked and constricted my throat. Where was it? Where did I drop it? Oh no. Oh no… I couldn’t lose it. Not here. Not when it provided a splash of sanity in this place. I promised him I’d return it. I couldn’t lose it. But where was it? Under the bed? I dropped to the floor only to find nothing. No. Damnit! On the table? No. Windowsill? No. Damn!

I shot to my feet, ready to inspect the entire ship when a figure promptly stopped me in my tracks. Quite literally as it would seem as she gave a startled gasp and we both tumbled to the ground. Fortunately for me, panic blinded me to my pain.

“What the heck…?! Watch it!” Lucy growled, glaring at me. Towels littered the ground around her. Oops. Guess she was bringing more for me. Would love to apologize but I had better things to worry about than her sass.

Lucy gave a startled grunt as I stumbled to get up and past her, neither action going far as she ended up catching me before I could fall, “What are you doing? Calm down! What’s with you?”

I grit my teeth, ready to scream for her to move, when her eyes darted down to where I clutched my bare wrist. Her eyes widening in surprise was a gentle action that oddly spoke volumes and confounded me enough to settle a little in her arms. Irritation gave way to realization and slight annoyance, which transformed into an odd mix of sympathy and scorn as she pushed me back into the room and on the mattress.

She growled something, probably extremely irritated with me and not helping our relationship whatsoever. Or so I thought until she pulled out Dazai’s pendant from her apron’s pocket.

“That’s-!” I gasped as if it was the cure to cancer. Honestly it was mortifying when I look back on it, but in the moment I was ready to cry. Indeed, I think tears formed in my eyes as I instantly reached for it.

Cruelly she pulled it out of reach, scowling down at me. For half a second I thought she was going to steal it. Jerk. I’d yet to use Fitzgerald’s Silver Oracle, but was prepared to make an exception for this girl. Seriously. Why’d she hate me so-

Before the thought could finish, Lucy walked to the edge of the bed and in a smooth motion wrapped it around my neck like a traditional brooch. It took me aback, so much so that her radiating scorn as she told me something along the lines of “I’m not paid enough for this crap” and “Grow up” failed to really register. Instead, I raised a hand to lightly brush the pendant as if confirming through my senses it wasn’t a trick. It truly was there. I hadn’t lost it.

I still held onto the hope that Dazai and the others gave me.

“We will be together again, I promise…”

His vow echoing in my mind was all the push I needed to begin sobbing into my hand while the other clutched the accessory so tightly it indented itself into my palm. It was beyond reassuring and yet broke down everything that I desperately tried to keep together. All of this in front of Lucy – a disgraced member of the Guild who hated me.

Or maybe she was simply trying to cope like me, only in a different manner?

Pressure descended on my back as Lucy rested against me and gave a heavy sigh. She made no move to reassure me or calm my cries, yet her presence alone was more than I could’ve ever asked for. I wanted to thank her, but the tremors shaking me prevented anything coherent from coming out. Instead we simply sat together, at last just accepting each other’s presence.

It was in that moment I think we both realized that neither of us stood the princess or the pauper. We were simply broken, lost humans and, perhaps, mutual prisoners aboard this castle in the sky.

Notes:

Okay so late chapter, got food poisoning, loopy from meds, gonna pass out and edit in the morning. RIP everyone who reads beforehand. Sorry if my errors kill you, but then it is Halloween so boo? Ahh?

—-

Morning! Errors fixed, sanity pleased.
Thank you and have a Happy Halloween!

Chapter 26: Reversal of Fortune

Summary:

You never know someone truly until they must make an impossible decision.

They say time heals all wounds.

Apparently they never expected someone like me to show up and throw a wrench in that theory. Not like I wanted to. Get healed or grow worse? It’s not even a choice.

And sadly one I never got to make.

With each passing day, my stress only grew. What was taking so long? Was the story still on track? What was happening in Yokohama? How long until Fitzgerald’s attack? Not long as only the other day I witnessed the sickening sight of him dragging an unconscious Atsushi onboard.

He looked terrible, like he’d been to Hell and back. Facing off against Fitzgerald and getting shot by Twain… Not exactly surprising, but it tore my heart. If not for Lucy grabbing my wrist, I’d have snatched the poor kid from those horrid hands. Don’t know what I’d do seeing as escape was still laughable, but at least he’d be in better hands.

Something that surprisingly remained intact for me.

I assumed that whenever Atsushi arrived things would change and Fitzgerald would throw me off the whale. However things didn’t really change. Okay, no. They did. But that was primarily due to me constantly asking to see the white-haired teen. Probably annoyed the crap out of Fitzgerald – hence our tenser meetings and my restricted wanderings with a necessary guard at all times. Although, could it be that he was considering the implications of his future actions?

Could he actually possess a heart that looked at anything but his desires?

At any rate this grounding sucked. It felt like no matter where I went people always tried to keep me locked up. Sentiment in some cases was nice, but everything was quickly growing annoying. And brought unwanted silence that grew ever deafening.

I curled my knees against my chest as memories of this grey morning tormented me.

“I want to see Atsushi!” I requested not for the first time in these past couple days. Images of the unconscious teen haunted me, and even though I knew seeing him wasn’t going to exorcise those demons, it would soothe them a little.

Something Fitzgerald adamantly prevented as he shot down sternly, “No. You will not be seeing the tiger-boy. Not until everything is finished.”

What was this? Did he think Atsushi was some bad boy trying to take his not-daughter? Stop being stubborn and stupid! I wanted to scream at him and very nearly did so in English. By some miracle I kept my mouth shut. Well, sort of.

“Why?” I demanded, half-eaten fruit nearly falling to the floor as I lightly hit the table with my fists to keep from slapping him.

“Because I cannot let you interfere with my plans,” he growled, “You may have escaped perdition, but that does not mean you can pull your friends from the fire. That is something that I cannot allow. Not even from you.”

So he realized I wasn’t loyal. Glad to see he wasn’t blind. Shame. Could’ve helped out a lot. At the very least it was reassuring that we were on the same page despite appearances. Still, could it kill him to just let me see the guy? I promise not to jump ship. Well, not yet. Either way this thing was going down, and I held no intentions of drowning with the ship.

“Please!” I pleaded, “Let me see him!”

In that moment I saw something I’d never seen up until that point. Fitzgerald’s mask cracked, revealing something that took my breath away before his actions of snatching my arm in a vice grip and practically pulling me onto the table could.

Raw fury ignited his blue eyes. But more than that. Beneath the flames an overpowering sense of… How do I even call it? It wasn’t loss. Not quite fear. But an emotion like he was trying to protect something – protect, dare I say it, me.

Why? From what? Atsushi wouldn’t hurt me. So why was he so afraid? What could he possibly think would hap-

Oh. Was he perhaps not afraid of the teen hurting me, but, rather, taking me away?

Was that it?

Either way I didn’t have time to ponder as he seethed, “You will not see that boy, understand? Not until the city is burned to ashes and that Book is in my hands.”

His nails dug into my arm. For the first time he yelled – actually hurt me. It was terrifying and a clear glimpse into his character. The charade we both played never appeared so paper-thin until that moment. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes and I vaguely shook. I of all people knew exactly what he was capable of.

And I think he knew it as he relented and snatched up his phone, shoving it toward me while hissing, “You want to see him? Then here he is.”

Barely visible on the screen yet in a quality that allowed every speck of dust to show, a small, desolate cell appeared – its occupant’s agonized screams like nails digging into my bones. I think I gave a small cry, but it was drowned out as I held onto the phone as if it could magically transport me to him.

“Atsushi!”

What was happening? Why was he screaming? What did they do to him?

The teen continued to writhe, shifting enough that I finally noticed the cause: a pair of black arm restraints. What were they? Why wasn’t he using his ability to escape? Don’t tell me… Were those things blocking him from summoning the tiger? That’s not possible, and yet…

Atsushi gave another horrid scream – one that haunted me and pulled every tear from my eyes. Before sorrow could drown me, Fitzgerald shut off the screen; leaving me to sob while clutching his wrist. The wrist of a man that I now cursed with all my being.

One I found myself submitting to out of that vain hope that somehow, someway our…whatever this was, was enough to spare that precious child.

“Please, stop!” I begged between sobs, meeting his cold gaze, “Don’t hurt him…! Please!”

“Please…” His eyes widened as I at last broke my silent vow and spoke in shaky English, “I will do whatever you want, just don’t hurt him…!”

This sucked. Everything was falling apart. All I wanted was to protect these people – the people who saved me and showed a kindness I could never repay. One that I now sullied with this plea. It was worth it to spare Atsushi, but the looming futility of it all struck deep. I’d agreed to comply with Fitzgerald – I revealed to him something I kept secret from everyone else.

And it all might just be for nothing.

Back in the present, I buried my face in my knees in vain attempt to stop the tears that found an endless reservoir. Numbly I reached to brush my fingertips along Dazai’s pendant, praying now more than ever he actually did rig it and could hear me. Not to torment him, only to give me some selfish reassurance that I was not as isolated as I felt.

“Dazai…” I whispered, breath like sandpaper against my raw throat.

Within the time between that horrid morning and the dark ominous clouds gathering around us, I desperately reinstated my avoidance of English, thinking he may assume it to be a split epiphany on my part. As if… Regardless, I no longer held any inclination to speak my native tongue. Because now, even thinking and writing in it brought back malevolent memories of my failure.

Of that suffocating, oppressive despair that seeps into every crevice of my body and soul like the grey clouds billowing around us. Clouds that would soon be overrun by thick smoke when Q burned down the city and killed countless all for the sake of locating a stupid Book.

I clutched my knees closer, sandwiching the pendent between my palm and neck as I asked the one person I prayed could miraculously hear me yet was far too distant for that.

“What do I do?”

 

…

 

Fitzgerald did not come to visit for the rest of that day or the following. Guess he at last gave up on our act. That or he finally got whatever it was that he wanted from me. Either way I didn’t know whether to feel miserable or grateful. Heck, if anything I felt numb the entire time.

My mundane routine gained another layer of grey. Soon enough it’d consume every part of me and I’d become the perfect doll for him to sacrifice later… At this point, it’d be a mercy.

“Good morning little princess! Today the honorable Mark-sama will take care of you,” a bright, pompous voice cut through my painted paradise.

Twain huh? I thought Lucy was coming? Did that mean she was busy with something else? Had Fitzgerald revealed his plan yet? Was she bickering with Atsushi? Lucky… Wish I could see him too…

“What’s the matter? Why so gloom?” Twain asked, holding much less insight into silent cues than I thought possible. Wasn’t it obvious? Did everyone on this damn ship believe I enjoyed this fake luxury? That I wanted to be here?

“Nothing…” I muttered, turning and giving him the cold shoulder. Okay super petty jerk move, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him. Lucy or Steinbeck, maybe. But Twain? Not a chance. Didn’t hate the guy, just didn’t have the energy to put up with him.

Or his gloating stories that he apparently thought would break the very thick ice between us. Ugh. Men.

“That’s very interesting and all, but I don’t think she’s listenin to ya.”

Right? Geez. At least someone- Wait. What?

“I agree. Maybe you should try English. She appeared to respond better to that than Japanese,” a small floating person dressed in a torn red coat advised – hovering just above Twain’s shoulder. A purplish glow outlined him, testifying to his otherworldly nature. Given his position and his counterpart’s, they were pretty much the good and bad conscience of the man.

Or rather his ability: Huck and Tom.

Only question was: who was who?

And why could I understand them?

Okay, two questions, but technicalities aside it was stunning. And not really in a good way. The last time something like this happened it was with Elise – Mori’s creepy forever ten-year-old ability girl. Sure, Twain’s duo was a step better, but I’d rather not. Talk about horrible choices. Do I want the unnerving ability of a murderous perv doctor, or the manic consciences of a pompous shooter? Not really the best round of “Would You Rather?”. Is there a third option I’m not seeing?

Sadly, I found myself leaning toward Mori as the red-head continued in Japanese. Seriously? Not only ignoring the advice but purposely going with the language he knew least? Or that was the idea since Twain’s American. What’s with these people? I appreciate the courtesy and respect for Yokohama’s native language, but we weren’t even in Japanese airspace for all I knew. Not to mention the whole “I’m Fitzgerald’s daughter-not-daughter” charade. So where’s the English?

Guess that’s a little self-centered of me, not to mention useless given my vow of English-silence, but seriously. The guy could’ve at least tried. Heck. He didn’t even bother to slow down his annoyingly perfect Japanese. Jerk. Why’d he get the presto translator and I was stuck with the rusty hand-me-down that barely functioned? Sure, learning builds character and all, but I didn’t want that nonsense. I wanted to freaking hold a conversation with characters I liked without having to play Pictionary or charades.

“Whatever,” the red-coat sighed, suddenly lowering into my field of vision so that I had to jerk back not to hit him. Was that possible? Could they even be touched?

“I don’t blame you for tuning him out. He can be a bit…stifling at times,” the spirit apologized, holding out a small hand cordially, “My name is Huck. If you would like, we can play a game to pass the time.”

So he was Huck. Which meant the other one pestering Twain in a conversation I only got half the information on (which was more than enough to not bother struggling to decipher the rest) was Tom. Huh. Glad that cleared up at least.

I nodded, letting the odd boy direct me to a chessboard. Not exactly the game of choice, but beggars can’t be choosers I suppose. Which meant I was even lower than that as we never managed to even set up the board when a familiar word cut through the air.

“No can do. The Boss ordered us to remain on stand-by in case Tiger-Boy tries to escape,” Tom grinned comically at his ability-user’s pout.

Tiger-Boy? My heart leapt to my throat, and before I could stop myself I leapt in their direction, “Atsushi?! Where-? Take me to him, please!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Twain held up his hands, effectively keeping me from pouncing on him, “What are you talking about? Sushi?”

“No!” I wanted to strangle him for the obvious homonym that everyone used with the kid, “Not sushi. Atsushi­ – Tiger-Boy! Take me to him!”

Twain blinked, action apparently serving some silent meaning as Huck immediately intervened, “Hey! You know we cannot do that. The Boss ordered that no-one interact with the prisoner.”

Seriously? I thought you were on my side. So much for that. Was the game just a ruse then to gain my trust? Et tu, Huck?

Twain replied something that sounded vaguely neutral. Was he agreeing? Or…

“I suppose, but that’s stretching the truth a bit, isn’t it?” Huck frowned. Oh? Maybe he was on my side? Heck. Get me to Atsushi and you win the “Would You Rather?” contest.

Twain smirked as he stood up, an adventurous glint in his green eyes as he said something along the lines of, “Whatever. It’ll be fun and that’s all that matters right? We were ordered to make her happy, so this is it, right?”

Or at least I think so. Based on Huck’s resigned sigh and Tom’s mischievous smirk, it was close enough as the latter swirled around me, “Exactly! Let’s get going then. This place is too stuffy anyways.”

I smiled and rose with him, letting the two guide me out at long last. That’s what I’m talking about. About time too. Maybe Twain’s visit wasn’t so bad after all.

Huck exhaled as if trying to reign in his irritation, muttering under his breath before following, “Please. You just want that tiger to escape so you can really play…”

What? Seriously? Was that why he agreed? To lure Atsushi into escaping for the sole purpose of a good game – not to save the city or, heck, even help me? Rude. But he was letting me see him… Ahh, is this the moral grey guck everyone always referred to in this series? It’s a lot more troubling than I thought. Nice theme, but annoying to deal with. Just thinking about how I played into it made me feel…skeevy. Ugh. I don’t even like looking back on it. Can we just forget and move on? Wait. Does that make me a bad person? Ugh. You know, no. Not now. Better things to focus on than morality. Well, sort of… Ah, you get my point.

And fortunately not too late as we descended into very familiar looking prison cells.

Without wasting a second, I bolted forward, not bothering to listen or care for Twain’s shocked call, “H-Hey! Wait!”

I ignored him in favor of searching out every barred window in sight – heart picking up pace as each empty one led me closer and closer to the one I sought. Where was he? In here? Or there? Or that one? Where? Where was…?!

“Atsushi…!” I gasped, at last spotting his mono-colored form curled up on a bed just barely in my field of vision.

Instantly he stiffened as if I threw ice cold water on him. In seconds he spun around and stumbled off the bed, beautiful purple-yellow eyes wide in disbelief as he breathed, “V-Violet-san?! What are you-?”

I didn’t give him the chance to finish. As soon as he faced me, I wrenched open the door (and I think I hit Twain in the process) and bear hugged him. The wince he gave tore at my heart, alongside the bruises, scrapes and tears – his arms most notably bearing nasty scars whose  damage was testified by the fact his super regeneration hadn’t fully healed them.

What happened to you? Are you okay? Obviously not. No one is. Not so long as this war’s still going on. And oh God…

“Atsushi…!” I cried, curling my fingers into his soft hair and holding his head where it found refuge in the crook of my neck. He was trembling like a leaf, and it was all I could do with my own weary body to keep us from falling apart, “Thank goodness… Thank goodness…!”

Pulling away was like trying to breathe underwater, but I took mercy on my heart and shifted to cup both his cheeks, brushing his tears away with my thumbs as I felt my own roll down my face as I whispered, “I missed you...”

“Violet-san…” he breathed, looking relieved yet mortified at the same time. Guess it was bittersweet reuniting in a cell within the Guild’s flying fortress. But at the very least he appeared grateful to see me.

“How…?”

“Don’t you know? She’s the Boss’ daughter. Well, sort of,” Tom explained with a wry grin.

Yikes. Not candy coating things whatsoever, huh?

Atsushi stiffened. Damn. How the hell was he supposed to take that? Not good, obviously. And the fact that Fitzgerald literally beat him to a pulp only a couple of days ago… Ahh. Crap!

“Atsushi,” I tugged his attention, forcing his grimace into a surprised blink as my hands kept his head from moving. That’s right. No jumping to conclusions. Just focus on me, and please for the love of everything believe I actually care enough about you not to spill everything to someone like Fitzgerald. Gosh, please don’t think so lowly of me.

“I am fine. I will be alright,” I squeezed a little, hoping that he understood just how much I meant those words.

“Yes, yes. And now it’s time we head back, right?” Twain at last called, appearing at last bored of this visit. Damn. He would have the attention span of an ADHD dog.

Better make these last words count then.

Tugging Atsushi close, I whispered in his ear just loud enough that I knew he could hear but the others couldn’t, “Run.”

He tensed, a good sign to my conscience yet painful to my heart. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to abandon the person who potentially betrayed them all. Who was this precious kid? Why’d he trust me so much? After everything…

No. I couldn’t let sentiment tie us down. Atsushi needed to escape. I’d be alright. Somehow I had to convey that and yet… Why was it so painful? I’d only be away from them a little longer. So why? Why did it feel like tearing my heart out? I didn’t want to stay here. I wanted to escape with him. But doing so would jeopardize him and potentially make him fail and I couldn’t do that and…

I bit my lip to keep from crying. I couldn’t do that. I had to be strong. Atsushi was younger than me. I needed to start acting like his senior. I couldn’t cry and mope. Not now. Not with the entire city in danger. I couldn’t be selfish. Not now. Not with this kid who was about to go through hell itself to save a city that abandoned him.

A place that quickly grew to become a home for both of us.

“I-I will be alright,” I forced my voice to level out. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t terrified for all of us, but shoved that away for later to give the best attempt of a reassuring look as I could to the teen as Twain’s hand brushed my shoulder in silent beckoning, “I promise. I will be alright, okay?”

“Violet-san…!” Atsushi’s voice gained rising notes of panic as he reached for us. Cruel fate slammed the cell door between us before he could connect, leaving him despairingly gazing behind the bars. It twisted my heart.

“It’s okay…” I whispered, brushing my fingers along his. I wanted to hug him and say everything then and there, but with Twain and the cameras I knew Fitzgerald placed, it was impossible. Nevertheless, I played with fire as I mouthed the final words, “Run away, Atsushi. Lucy will help you.”

Hopefully that didn’t completely off-put him. Guess we’d have to wait til later if he really trusted me enough to go. I don’t think I’d be angry if he didn’t, but kind of upset in a weird way. Probably would have to push him off the whale myself… Gosh. Please go with Lucy. Don’t think I could manage that…

The door to the dungeon closed with a loud clang. Never before had it sounded so detrimental and menacing as I silently prayed for once in our miserable, misfortunate lives that a merciful light would shine on us.

For what we were about to face, we’d need all the luck in the world to make it out alive.

Notes:

I'm aliveee. Food poisoning absolutely sucks but hey, survived so guess I can't complain too much. Thank you all for the warm words ♥ At the time I posted the chapter I was mostly over it, just in that hazy post-stage of I don't know if I want to attempt to eat something or just pass out, but the thoughts were much appreciated ♥

Anyways, I don't plan on continuing too much into Violet's captivity aboard Moby Dick. There are still a few more things to cover but with Atsushi here (my poor babe) things will pick up a little. Also, did anyone notice that the restraints Fitzgerald used are awfully similar to those mentioned in a certain AU light novel? Might just be me but after rewatching the episode all I could do was go "Hmmmmmmmmm"

Hope you all have a fantastic week~

Chapter 27: Red Sky at Morning

Summary:

Signposts reside all around us; the wise take notice and listen.

The nightmares began that night. Kinda figured given the spike in stress levels, but even that couldn’t prepare me for what tormented waited each time I closed my eyes.

Flames stained the sky a bloody red, outlined by fractured black ruins of what once was a lively city. Black ash and soot drifted down hauntingly. I’d never actually experienced ashes falling from the sky, but it was surreal and sobering to the extreme. As if you could feel the sorrow and destruction radiating off the Earth itself.

An emotion that fell painfully short in the wake of motionless bodies of the once bustling streets of Yokohama.

Q’s destruction. No words could describe it. Drawings and animations came close, but nothing could possibly capture the thick calamity afflicted upon the city and its innocents now deathly still in oppressive flames. Ones dotted with familiar faces that shouldn’t have glazed over eyes. Faces belonging to Port Mafia and the Agency alike.

What was this? Why did I see them dead? They didn’t die. Sure, they got roughed up a little, but nowhere near this bad. Did something happen? Was this something that happened behind the scenes in the storyline? Or… Gosh… Was I the reason? Was my presence affecting things?

Was I the reason why they no longer breathed?

The question was worse than the visions tormenting me because unlike the dreams that would one day fade, this one dealt with my very existence here – something I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried. At least with the nightmares I could delay them by staying up. Although after the first day without a second of sleep, phantoms of flames and the stench of death lingered in the shadows of hallways and among fractured sunlight glinting through the windows.

Hallucinating sucked and I easily saw why it drove people insane. It makes you question what is real and what isn’t – and that’s a super slippery slope to insanity. One I tried my best to slowly descend. Not like staying here was going to help, especially now that sleep was far from an escape. More like another hell I intently avoided.

Unfortunately the message from Nightmare on Elm Street did not linger in my memories as my body slowly began forcing itself to shut down. Every quiet moment turned into a risky gambit with either imaginary possessed people or hot flames that seared my skin. Neither particularly appealed, as I’m sure you can imagine. I did my best to stay awake and distracted from the now constant shadow figures in the corners of every room, but no matter how hard I tried one thing remained.

I was only human, and it was only a matter of time before my body shut down.

Hopefully I’d be able to stall until everything ended. It was a gambit, but at least it held some chance of coming to pass.

Oddly enough, what once was a bane to my existence now transformed into a lifeline. Visits from Twain, Lucy, and a few of the other Guild members helped greatly in keeping me awake and alert enough to interact with them on a somewhat coherent level. Who’d have thought I’d actually look forward to struggling to communicate with people I knew darn well spoke English fluently yet refrained from doing so just like me? Well, sort of. I think they were just trying to be polite.

A far cry to Fitzgerald’s English, although I’m fairly certain he was just doing so because he knew I understood. That or to drive in the nail of my blunder deeper. I couldn’t really tell, and the sleep deprivation didn’t help.

Something he keenly noticed after the first night with a frown at the third cup of coffee I downed, “You should take better care of yourself. Rebelling in this fashion will only bring you harm.”

Please, you say that like you’re not about to kill thousands of innocent people. It was a monumental task not to roll my eyes. They say lack of sleep loosens your tongue and reactions. Fortunately I remained a silent hostage who murmured some fragmented Japanese. Can’t say it’d last, but at the very least I held some remnants of self-control for the time being.

A feat that increased exponentially with each hour of wakefulness. Or, rather, blurred consciousness as the visits from the others and Fitzgerald slowly turned into me numbly staring off into the distance only to shake back to a weak consciousness whenever a piercing scream or fiery figure crossed my senses.

When night fell, they grew tremendously worse, probably because the only thing to occupy my time were books I read already or staring into the blackness below. Did Fitzgerald see through my attempt to stay awake and ordered Moby Dick to fly more out to sea? Was he the one who filled my room with mundane books that would knock out even the most awake person? Did he switch all the coffee to decafe?

Paranoia quickly poisoned my mind. I read about a sleep deprivation study on this one guy who apparently changed personality starting the second day. Personally I felt I was doing pretty well, but the hesitant stares I received on the third day screamed otherwise. The worst part was, whatever I did or didn’t do failed to stick in my memory – leaving me clueless and at the mercy of the visions that grew more frequent by the second.

By the third night, a constant shadowy figure loomed in the corner of my room and I felt absolutely miserable. Coffee lost its effects, and despite my best efforts I kept nodding off to the same bloodied scene of Atsushi and the other members of the Agency motionless on the ground. It made no sense. I knew they weren’t going to die in this attack, and yet my sleep deprived mind was certain of their peril.

It was torturous – nearly on par with the nightmares of staying in Port Mafia’s dungeon. It was bitterly funny. I managed to survive that; you’d think I could handle a few all-nighters. So much for growing through the trials. All I wanted now was for this all to end, but the horrid fact that passing out would only send me into a nightmare I couldn’t easily escape by pinching my now bruised leg kept me painfully awake. It sucked, and I felt tears sting my eyes as I buried my head into my knees, blocking out the moonlight drifting through the window.

Please… Just let it stop. Just for one night, let it stop…

I prayed that over and over, until a calm blackness descended. Did it work? I couldn’t tell, and for a moment I was hesitant to open my eyes in fear it didn’t. The cool air around me nipped at my shoulders. Wait… Shoulders? They should be covered by the blanket I plucked from my bed. So why…?

Glancing up, I was subtly surprised by the exchange of the humble nightgown offered to me when I first came here with a soft white dress following almost stereotypical anime style in these sort of inward world scenarios. One that was altered by a familiar couch-bed sofa that pressed uncomfortably beneath me.

“Despite his present and future crimes, that man’s words are true. You should not push yourself so mercilessly,” a familiar voice echoed from behind.

My heart leapt to my throat as I turned to find the grey man. What? How did…?! Ahh. Here again? It shouldn’t surprise, and honestly was better than seeing Q’s attack or Yokohama on fire. Still, he was hardly what one would call a relieving sight. If anything his presence annoyed me and set me on edge.

Knowingly or not, he became the target of my misery – an unfair yet very logical one to my tortured mind. After all, these nightmares began with him. And I was dead certain he was to blame for them tormenting me now even if I held no shred of proof. Please, his presence was all I needed to glare daggers into the back of his head.

“You…” I growled, digging my nails into the cushions if only to keep from lashing out at him, “Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove – that you can torment me with these nightmares? That you control what I can do? Well listen here, bucko, I’m not about to give into a sleazy, underhanded ass who can’t even face me.”

It felt good to get that out. If only for a microsecond as he merely stared forward – completely unfazed in the least. Like I was some blabbering child. It did wonders in ticking me off more than before. Not exactly the best thing considering my already poor emotional state.

“Hey!” I snarled, snatching his shoulder and forcing him to pay attention. Fury reddened my vision, something I didn’t think possible until that moment. But boy was I livid, and he was about to find out.

Or not as his hood fell off from the action and at last revealed his features. Grey eyes stared back from a paler face than I could hope to mimic on my death bed. His cheekbones sharply lined his face, framed by dark grey locks partially tied back in a small ponytail similar to Kunikida’s. Everything about his appearance was monotone, almost as if he was stuck in time – frozen in an old movie.

My mind couldn’t comprehend him. Probably for the best as he sported a small dagger barely visible beneath his cloak that would definitely hurt more than my fists. Nevertheless, I got the feeling he wouldn’t have used it regardless as he smiled almost contritely, “I am sorry for your pain in these trials, and as much as I wish to aid you I cannot stop the flow of dreams and memories.”

Dreams and memories? Is he saying this was all because of me? That I brought these nightmares? Sure, I mean, stress does lead to that, but still. What? No freaking way. Horrible excuse fella. Not anywhere near what I wanted to hear.

Still, blaming him at this point would get me nowhere, so I settled with growling, “What do you mean? I only know about those things because I’m not from here. It’s not an ability or magic or whatnot. But even then that doesn’t explain the HD sketches. I’m no artist – not with that level of skill. Not to mention that some of these visions are of scenes I don’t even know about – that I can’t possibly know about. So explain to me how exactly those are my doing?”

“They are your burden,” he replied in juxtaposition to my anger, a calm mountain against a raging sea. However, he narrowed his eyes in the first emotion I’d seen, nulling the rising retort so he could finish, “And if you are not careful, it will drown those who are fighting so hard to protect you.”

What? This speech again? What do you mean? How will it destroy them other than the obvious? How can I stop them? That’s what I wanted to know; that’s what I wanted to hear. Not something we both already knew.

A flash of lightning suddenly blinded me, preventing me from lashing out for real at the guy. Geez, he must have the luck of all lottery winners in history. Still, if he thought some parlor tricks would stop me then he had another thing coming. Something that would have to wait as the light dimmed to near darkness as an old warehouse melted into view.

“Damn…!” I cursed under my breath. This was a dream. I was asleep. Damn. Should’ve known but still… This could only mean one thing.

A nightmare was well on its way.

Nope. Not me. Not this time. I spun around, heading immediately to the door. Not gonna let that jerk torment me. Yeah, I know, he’s probably right about the nightmares, but still. He didn’t make things any better. Guess this is what they mean when they say the truth hurts? Considering he wasn’t lying through his teeth.

Ugh. Whatever. Just get out of this dream and continue my trial or whatever. Hopefully Atsushi was jumping ship in the morning. That meant this whole thing was going to end soon. Awesome. Can’t wait to get off this damn blim-

My face abruptly collided with a harsh barrier, not merciless stone but rude enough that I nearly hit the ground. What the heck? I winced, glaring up at the cause. Who just stands in the doorway when someone’s about to leave? Rude much. Ugh. Could I not catch a break?

Apparently not as a bloody red eye glanced down at me like I was some insect. Oh crap. My blood turned to ice. I knew that face. It was a person who’d gone to such lengths for me only days earlier. Someone who now wouldn’t hesitate to skin me alive, or so I believed as I gawked up at Dazai – Mafia Dazai.

He reached toward me, all the incentive my frayed nerves needed to flinch back and tear a yelp from my throat as I spun away only to find the warehouse gone. In its place, a rather worn down clinic resided – a pair of figures my only companions. What the heck? I get dream dimension swaps and stuff, but it failed to ease the disorientation plaguing my senses.

Not to mention shock from seeing Mori sitting across from a younger, still bandaged Dazai who huffed in a voice a little too high pitched than normal, “Liar! You say that and you keep making me work hard, gave me awful memories a year back, and in the end you didn’t teach me! If this goes on I’ll betray you and join an enemy organization!”

Wait, what? What was happening? Horrible memories? Was he talking about the previous Boss? When was this? How was I seeing this? This wasn’t a part of the anime or manga. So how-?

A wry smile curled Mori’s lips, “Stop talking about ideas you’re not serious about; be a good boy. If you turn traitor you won’t be able to die painlessly, right?”

Talk about ironic. Especially if this really was a vision from the past. Seriously though, how was this possible? That damn man must’ve known why and kept quiet. Argh. Next time I’d be sure to wrangle it out of him. If he tried to toss me into the abyss, I’d drag him down with me.

A halfhearted sigh rang in my ears, pulling my attention to where the younger Dazai swung his thin legs from the stool he perched on, “So boring… This world is so boring…”

Something within that statement twisted my heart. Boring? Did he honestly believe that? Did he still believe that even now? I knew he was smart as hell and predicted a lot of things, but to hold such a dismal view… It made me want to show him how beautiful the world was – especially this one with hopes and dreams that very well could come to life with much more odds than those in my world.

Without thinking, I reached out for him. It was insane. I didn’t even know if I could touch him, but the urge was so strong that I proceeded anyways – my efforts rewarded in a starling way as he suddenly fell into my arms.

“Ah!” I yelped, struggling not to crash onto the ground. What was that? Did he swan dive off thinking he’d hit his head? This kid… Geez, he really needed a slap and then a thousand hugs and some Odasaku counseling

And a heaping of pain pills and cleaner bandages as his stained ones rested inches from my face. What the-?

“D-Dazai!” I stammered, shifting his small form in my arms and revealing a sight that froze my blood.

Red stained the white areas of his outfit a sickly hue; his clothes torn and battered as if he went through the ringer. What happened? How did he get this injured? A piece of me recognized our change in surroundings, but disorientation took a backseat to his horrific injuries. What happened? Tears stung at my eyes. He was so young…

And yet, compared to the small form trembling beside us, he was old enough, “W-What…? Who are you…?”

Another impossibility shook me, prompting my arms to pull Dazai closer as I set eyes on the voice’s owner. He was no threat, not that I knew at least. His ability on the other hand, I’d witnessed first-hand. But how was he here? When was this? Was he why Dazai was injured, or perhaps…

Was Dazai injured protecting Q?

The very kid he’d later swear to rip his heart out.

How horrible… To save someone just to have things turn so detrimentally… It hurt, so much that my heart felt like it would implode. Why? Why was his life so painful? Why couldn’t he just find lasting happiness? Was there no other future for Dazai? Was this the cruel fate life dealt him?

No. I hugged his small, motionless body closer. It wasn’t fair. Not in the least, especially for someone like Dazai. Someone who wasn’t even aware of how kind and good he was. I grit my teeth to keep from wailing in his stead, knowing he was far too emotionally constipated to do so himself. How much easier would it be for him if he could simply let it all out?

Alas, he remained still and quiet in my arms, leaving me to cry the tears that should be streaming down his face, “Dazai… Dazai…! I’m so sorry…”

Sobs shook my form, threatening to tear him from my arms but I held fast. I refused to let even an illusion of him receive any more harm. No. My heart physically could not bear the thought. Even if this was nothing but a dream, I’d protect him.

But the crushing possibility that this happened years ago failed to sooth the ache.

“You shouldn’t trust that man.”

The voice cut through like an icy spear, making me tense so quickly I gasped and jerked up, finding to my shock nothing but my dark, depressing room aboard Moby Dick. I always thought waking up this way was a dramatic reserved for T.V. shows and plays. Suppose I was in one now. Can say it isn’t fun and literally leaves you breathless and on edge. If anyone came in, I’d likely jump to the roof.

Fortunately that didn’t happen, still... I held the area over my pounding heart, feeling the panic build instead of decline. Crap, crap, crap. Calm down. Just calm down. Right now is not the time to sink into a panic attack. Just breathe and calm down. Breathe. Breathe…

Shakily, I reached over, intending to grab the glass of water on the side table beside my bed only to brush something much smaller. What was…? Tentatively I glanced up, expecting to see something that’d push me over the edge. Turns out it was the exact opposite as a teal light gleamed in my eyes – reflecting pre-dawn light outside.

Ah, Dazai’s pendant, huh?

It was cliché but I figured when in Yokohama… I pulled the pendant to my chest, letting its familiarity chase away some of the unease. It worked a little and I breathed a little easier. See? Not all that bad…

“Don’t trust that man.”

The words came back faintly. Don’t trust that man. Who said it? Did they mean Dazai? Why? Sure, the guy was a bit, okay no a lot manipulative, but he was good. Right? I mean, given the choice between Dazai and others like Mori or Fyodor or Fitzgerald the answer was obvious.

Did that mean the voice felt otherwise? Could it have been that grey man? But why? What good came from such a weird warning?

I couldn’t tell and honestly didn’t have the strength or energy to figure out. I was teetering on the edge of losing my mind. I couldn’t dwell on nightmares like that. Things that couldn’t possibly be real…right?

Pulling Dazai’s pendant closer, I sought what little support it gave as the sun broke the horizon, casting its rays outwards and painting the sky vibrantly. Red seeped through the window, staining the walls and my bedroom a sickening hue. My hands trembled, and I buried my head in them to block out the blood-like smears marring my skin.

Notes:

Had to cover a shift today at work and boy was that a day. There's a reason why I don't work Tuesdays.

Anyways, hope you all enjoy ♥

Chapter 28: Resolve

Summary:

The strength of will burns brightest in those with something to protect.

“No.”

“But Vio-”

“No. I don’t want to.”

Okay. This was petty – beyond petty. But completely called for, and long overdue. And lack of sleep and the current plethora of horrid nightmares weren’t helping in the least. Three guesses who I blamed.

Whatever grumble came from my unfortunate attendant was muffled as I pulled the blankets tighter. After endless days of nightmares and the Guild and impending destruction and chaos and Fitzgerald, I’d had enough. Okay. A little exaggerated timeframe, but dreams of reality really do a number on your sense of time and, well, reality. And lately that’s all that’s been plaguing my mind and sleep lately.

All in all, not exactly the mindset I want with Fitzgerald gloating with Q’s manic doll in his possession.

Hence the petty refusals and blanket burritos.

Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little bad for the poor person. They were just trying to do their job – albeit a questionable one in terms of selection. Guess desperation pushes one beyond normal employment. And given his ability, Fitzgerald had little reason not to pay for the risk. So sort of win-win situation if you ignore the fact you make a deal with the Devil’s sleazy accountant.

Ahhhh. This sucked and the air inside here was getting disgustingly warm. But no chance was I giving in. No. Not a chance. My spite wouldn’t let me. No. I refuse. Ugh. Why couldn’t this just end? When was he going to use Q’s doll? When was Atsushi escaping? Did he already leave? No. I don’t remember hearing the sirens. Ahhhh!

I curled in closer. I just wanted everything about this arc to end. Well, sort of. Fyodor hardly appealed, but he was steadily gaining on staying stuck here. Everything just sucked and I was tired and hungry and fed up with these stupid visions and I just wanted to go home. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so.

Ugh… Just breathe girl. Breathe and go to sleep. As crap as these nightmares are, at least they helped speed things up a bit. Maybe this time I’d waken to Atsushi saving me with Akutagawa in tow. Or maybe Fitzgerald was going to throw me in with Steinbeck and the others to escape? Geez, that’d be annoying. Why couldn’t he just let me go down with the ship like Melville?

Easy, because I just so happened to be the near perfect reflection of his departed daughter. Near perfect. Cause everyone seemed to overlook the eyes. Why? Weren’t they the most noticeable feature of a person? Apparently not. That or my horrid luck is at play. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Especially when the mattress dipped a little beside me followed by the last person I wanted anywhere near me, “Sulking around is a rather ugly trait for someone to possess; completely unfitting of a young lady like you.”

And blind greed and narcissism looks atrocious on you. Care to continue down this slippery road?

“Get out…” I growled, shifting as far away as I could. Jerk sat on the blankets, which meant every movement I made slowly tugged the covers off.

Ass. I swear, if he replies with “Get out? I own this blimp yada yada yeehee” I’m going to punch him. Ugh. Why? Why Fitzgerald? Anyone but him. Ahhh… I don’t have the emotional capacity or patience for this…

“So grouchy,” he chuckled, not at all helping my mood. Cause you know laughing is the complete opposite of leaving, “And after I went all this way to check on you when you’ve been so wayward these past few days – missing our pleasant meals and talks…”

Pleasant? Yeah, maybe for you. Not quite the rest of the world.

“Get out,” I repeated a little louder. Maybe repetition would work on him like it did tantruming toddlers.

It didn’t. Haaaaaa… If only.

I could feel his smug grin without needing to see his face. Ugh. How does that make it so much worse?

“I missed them, you know. Our little get-togethers. Shame you had to stop coming, especially when I just learned how talented of an artist you are,” his confessed oily.

What? My breath left me, abandoning me as if to say “Whelp, it’s all you now girl. Good luck.” Shame. Wish I could run away as easily. Especially now as the room seemed to drop thirty degrees. Artist? Gosh. Don’t tell me… But it’s impossible, I hadn’t…

No. Gosh. The nightmares. How could I be so stupid? Did I really just blank on how I first drew these unnerving pictures? And now… Oh no…

Weird how seconds earlier I wanted nothing to do with the outside world and here now I threw the covers off like they were on fire. My heart pounded. What did I do? What did I draw? What did he now know? Oh gosh. Would this affect the events to come? Seriously? Why? Why now when some major story was about to go down?

In seconds my eyes zeroed in on the papers in his hands. By some miracle I managed to snatch them out of his hands. I say that, yet why did it feel like he couldn’t care less – like this was all some show to him? Gosh… Bad feelings all around. Guess the damage was already done if he was fine in letting me keep and shred them.

Geez… My heart felt like it was about to give out. What did he see?

Shaking, I looked at the pictures – feeling my face drain its color. Good lord…. Mafia Dazai, Odasaku facing Gide, Ango supervising the meeting between Mori and Taneda, Q’s attack, Atsushi’s capture, Yokohama on fire… I practically gave him a play by play with backstory. Information he very well could use against the Agency and Mafia.

What had I done?

“They are very nice,” Fitzgerald’s words drew nails down my back. I felt close to puking as I met his toxic gaze, “Quite the masterpieces fitting of a prophet.”

“H-How…?” I couldn’t even find the energy to finish the question. Panic deafened my ears to everything but his wretched voice that echoed uncannily.

“You have a very interesting ability,” he said like a wolf peering at a cornered rabbit, “But don’t worry; you are much more appealing than the previous oracle I met.”

Funny. I feel so much less safe than they probably do. Ironic given my appearances that once counted for some safety measures now amounted to near nothing. Did that mean he realized and accepted the fact I wasn’t Scottie this entire time? Then why all the formalities and such? Because I could potentially tell him about the future? As if. Heck, I was more likely to tell Mori information than him.

As much as I tried to muster the stubbornness to confront him, I couldn’t help the tremors racking my body that only grew worse as he asked darkly, “Perhaps you can see further than that one, huh? You do seem to have an eye for details. Maybe one of those facets includes the location of a certain Book?”

What? Oh no. No, no, no… I nearly shifted off the bed, only just managing to regain my balance.

Atsushi wasn’t the only target here. Sure, he may be the tiger-beetle or whatever, but Fitzgerald now knew I could pretty much skip ahead and read the last page. Gosh… I really was nothing more than a glorified prisoner here. The other shoe finally dropped, and boy was it a big splash.

What was I going to do? I couldn’t just tell him. But he already knew a good amount and could easily just snatch whatever I drew without even knowing I was doing it. Oh gosh… This wasn’t good… If it kept up then… Then…

Tears stung my eyes and my throat constricted so painfully it was hard to breathe. I think I must have started hallucinating too because Fitzgerald raised a glass of water to me and spoke gently, “Here, at least drink something. You haven’t had a scrap in days, right?”

Drink? Eat? And what makes you think I’d trust you after dropping a bomb that big? For all I know the stuff is laced with truth serum or something sketch. I don’t care if my stomach is growling. Nothing is better than poison.

He sighed, wisely seeing I wasn’t having it. Better late than never I suppose.

“Look,” he took a bite out of one of the muffins, “It isn’t poisoned or anything. So please,” he offered the tray, “Just eat something.”

He mirrored Mori and Elise way back when. It was weird, and maybe because of that I let my guard down. That or the odd note of pleading in his voice. Oh, yeah. I’m definitely hallucinating now. Pleading? Fitzgerald? Please. It’d take falling off Moby Dick to get him to that level. Although….

Maybe some part of him really cared for me as a human being – if not, for the sake I looked like his departed daughter?

Tentatively, I reached for the muffin he chose. What? Worked with Mori. Might as well stick to the pattern in that regard.

Seeing me oblige softened Fitzgerald’s features as his posture relaxed. Not going that far myself, but I found my muscles easing a fraction of an inch as he began speaking warmly, his expression gaining an oddly captivating nostalgic glow as he began, “You know, this reminds me of the day my family and I visited the gardens of Versailles…”

His story, at first kind of unwanted and awkward, slowly melted my walls. Weird, but not surprising given my lack of sleep and hunger slowly sated by the food he brought. Dang. Maybe I really was an idiot for falling for one of the oldest tricks in the book. And yet…

I studied Fitzgerald’s expression – his sunny smile and longing gaze as he recollected times that would never again grace him. In that moment, I think I lost myself. I mean, how many of us can say we don’t have a time we longed to return to?

I guess it was that similarity, that sole connection that bound us that pulled me out of my blanket burrito and let me forget about the papers I crumbled in my hand for a few minutes to bask in that dappled memory alongside him.

 

…

 

“Is that what you want?”

Cotton candy clouds floated whimsically across vibrant pink skies. A colorful wonderland filled with toys stretched out – decorated for a party fitting for the characters of fairy tales too pure for this world. Indeed, the child-like dimension stood apart from reality. A toy box fit for forgetting the troubles outside.

One that now expanded before his contrasting eyes.

“This is…” Atsushi murmured, gazing at the room as if trying to recall a distant dream. Or perhaps a blurred memory.

“It’s too late. Yokohama’s done for,” a voice cut through his wonder, drawing his attention toward the red-haired Guild apprentice. The one whose ability conjured this room. Lucy, if he recalled correctly.

To have brought him to this room… Could she actually not want the city to burn? Had their commonality reached her?

“No,” the weretiger rebutted firmly, “There’s still a way.” Yes. His eyes narrowed in determination. This plague was deadly; he faced it first handedly on the train platform. The one where they lost Violet – where he nearly committed unspeakable atrocities on Haruno and Naomi; where his mentor blew away the haze with a single touch.

“If Dazai-san touches that doll, the curse will end,” Atsushi explained, eyeing said plush in her arms.

“Are you insane?” Lucy’s expression twisted into a pained attempt at a smug smile that gradually broke with each word, “We’re in the sky. How do you think you’re going to give him the doll when you can’t even make it to the ground?”

Atsushi leveled an even look her way – resolve clear and causing her to wince. No matter what, he would protect this city; protect those who gave meaning to his life. He would not stand idle while they suffered.

“I see…” Lucy trailed off, an odd mix of sorrow and disappointment swirling in her teal eyes. Emotions she once laughed at in regards to the privileged tiger. The boy who captured the envy of everyone.

The kid who bore the same scars she did.

“You’re going to go anyways, huh? You’ll get shot and killed by the anti-air guns, you know? Or you’ll hit the ground and die. Even if you manage to survive, the madmen on the ground will shred you alive… Yet even then you still insist on going, huh?” a bitter huff left her lips, her eyes focused on the space between them if only to escape his determined gaze.

Quiet rested between them, yet was broken by his soft voice recalling a book read long ago in a place much more broken than the toy box they stood inside. Of pages where a character proclaimed a mindset that remained with the weretiger. A resolve to never let regrets hold him back – to not even allow them to form in the first place. He was so vibrant and full of life.

How was it that he too grew up in the horrors of a broken orphanage yet came out so differently than her?

A pang of envy shot through her, and yet unlike before she felt a small resolve of her own bubbling up. Such light… She craved it, but not so much as to snuff it out. No. Instead she wanted to nurture it. See it grow and survive.

Maybe then, it would ignite a flame within her as well…

Willing her ability to approach the young teen, Lucy took a deep breath. It was a risky gambit, but then she didn’t have much to lose.

Anne’s shadow covered Atsushi, causing him to stiffen in apprehension – obviously recalling their last encounter. It was almost laughable, his form tense and eyes scrunched closed in expectation of the massive doll snatching him up. Fortunately, things ended much differently than last time as the doll dropped a bag the weretiger flailed in catching.

His blinking at the object was close to cute, nearly making her smile as she informed, “It’s a parachute. I kept one hidden in case I needed to escape.”

Yes. Her teal eyes narrowed. Even after all this time, she could not fully accept the Guild’s kindness. Perhaps a part of her knew this was how it would end all along…

Keeping her back turned to the boy to keep him from seeing how weak she felt, Lucy continued, “I connected the white door to Moby Dick’s plating.”

She could feel his eyes boring into her as he questioned, oddly without any hint of dishonesty or selfishness, “Are you sure about this? The Guild won’t let you off for letting me go…”

His concern just barely fell short in bringing a chuckle from her lips as she willed Anne to push the teen to the door, “I’ve always been lonely,” she informed nonchalantly, tossing the morbid doll into his arms, “Besides, as long as I’m in this room, I’m safe.” For the time being, that is…

Instead of letting that truth bog his resolve, she opened the white door – revealing the halcyon dusted skies of Yokohama’s twilight. It was beautiful and haunting, knowing that the red glow came not only from the horizon but the city itself. Flames caused by her organization – and in extension, herself. She knew they were no heroes; it was the first thing Fitzgerald told them. And yet…

She did not want to bring harm to those who suffered the same pain as she did.

The same pain as the young teen in the doorway whose determined stance shook at lingering hesitation as he turned back, “Wait… I can’t leave just yet. Violet-san is still here. I need to-”

“What happened to doing whatever it takes?” Lucy interrupted, causing him to flinch. She sighed, “Don’t worry. That person will be fine. He won’t harm her.”

“How…do you know for sure?” Atsushi asked hesitantly.

Shoving away the urge to snap at him to just believe her, Lucy explained simply, “Because she reminds him of his daughter.”

What? Shock filled his veins and showed clearly on his face. Fitzgerald’s daughter? Could that be the connection they theorized? Was Violet truly related to the leader? He recalled the small form following the ability user beside her saying the same thing… But then why did she say that she reminded him of his daughter? Was it just some large coincidence? Even then…

He frowned, recalling those shaking arms holding him close – telling him to leave when the time came. Did she see this coming? Did she know Lucy would aid him in escaping? It was comforting yet mortifying at the same time. He couldn’t leave that power in the hands of the Guild.

He couldn’t abandon that pained smile that weakly reassured him that she would be okay in a situation she couldn’t possibly be okay in.

As if reading his thoughts, Lucy snapped, “You must go! If you don’t then you’ll just hurt her more!”

Atsushi flinched, staring wide-eyed at the redhead who sighed heavily, “Geez, this is why you goody-goodies always end up in these situations. She will be fine, okay? I will protect her myself if anything happens, got it? Now can you please just go? You’re making me regret helping you.”

The white-haired teen blinked, worries fading as he found himself trusting her words. Odd given how they initiated this conversation with an argument, one that still seemed to burn in her as she muttered just under her breath yet loud enough for his tiger senses to catch, “Geez, everyone’s so worked up about this girl like she’s some sort of princess… Honestly, she’s a freaking pain. No way can someone like that be so helpless…”

That’s right. Atsushi inhaled. This was not the first time Violet faced danger. No, she lived through Port Mafia’s capture and dungeon – through the Guild’s initial attack on the secretaries. She was not a weak person by any means. She would be okay.

“Thank you,” he at last spoke, finding to his slight surprise a pink blush dusting Lucy’s cheeks as he finished warmly, “I promise, I will come back for both of you.”

Before she had the chance to reply, he leapt out of the doorway into the skies above Yokohama. Air rushed past him, deafening his ears to the roar of gravity pulling him increasingly faster to the ground below. His jaw set, grip firm on Q’s doll as he mentally built an action plan. Yet within it, the familiar solemn voice of the President echoed through.

A memory of his call to them as he and Dazai travelled to the train station to retrieve Naomi and the others. A warning they received from Port Mafia’s envoy.

“If you cannot protect that woman, then we will take care of her for you.”

Atsushi clenched his fist around the doll. They had failed to protect Violet then, but not any longer. Once he reunited with Dazai and the others, they would rescue her. They wouldn’t let her fall into Port Mafia’s hands once more. Never.

He grit his teeth, glaring in determination at the expanding city below.

They would not fail her again.

Notes:

Ahhh okay made it in time. Hectic week turned into hectic month so updates may be a bit sporadic from here until honestly January. But will make effort to get them out as soon as I can.

Anyways, Violet's forgiving nature is akin to my inability to say no. Hopefully in the end it won't bite us both in the butt

Chapter 29: Leap of Faith

Summary:

Faith is not merely believing but acting on what you know to be right.

Ever stood in the sunlight during a cold winter’s day? That blissful feeling of warmth seeping into your skin – fighting off the chill and surrounding you like a comforting blanket. It’s one of those feelings I’ll always remember and yet every time I bask in that light it’s like the first time all over again. A wonderful feeling of peace and calm.

Something that slowly filled me as Fitzgerald’s soothing voice continued telling tales of his daughter, of Scottie.

They were heartwarming and let me see another side of the man – perhaps the original before her death drove him to this point. It was kind of sad. I think if she had survived, he would have been a better leader, maybe even a friendly ally. Guess this is where the grey theme comes into play with his character.

At least in the end I was able to see some white.

Although maybe that would turn into a burden if there ever came a time to say goodbye to the man. A bit morbid, I know, but then anything is possible. As weirdly nice this bond was between us, it certainly wouldn’t withstand another war should he choose to oppose the Agency. Something inevitable so long as Atsushi was connected to the very thing he believed would bring Scottie back.

At that point, nothing would matter except getting her back.

How should I feel about that? Upset? Jealous? Nonchalant? I don’t know. This moment was nice, but it paled in comparison to hanging out with Dazai and the others… Gosh. I missed them so much. How were they? Were they safe? I think Kunikida ended up getting affected by Q’s curse… Was he alright?

Despite knowing in the end they would be fine, the thoughts poured cold water into the warm sunlight. Shame. Just when I was beginning to really bond with him. Guess it was for the best. Especially as a disquieting alarm sounded from the hall.

One that grew louder as a Guild member opened the door and spoke hastily, “Sir! The weretiger – he’s gone!”

Yes! Atsushi escaped! Thank goodness! That makes everything so much-

Fitzgerald stiffened. Uh oh. Uhh I mean, dang. How horrible. Yikes…

Tentatively, I went to meet his gaze only for him to stand up suddenly and glare at me, practically seething, “Did you know this would happen?” Were you trying to distract me just now? The silent question blazed in his eyes.

Seriously? Come on. Maybe this…whatever this was wasn’t supposed to work out. Not really devastated but a tiny bit disappointed. I mean, learning about his past was interesting and nice in a way I could somewhat relate to. Guess this was why Kouyou warned about seeking the light that burns. It certainly scorched me now.

Not liking his spiked emotions, I began scooting back, murmuring, “No, I…”

Sharp pain cut through my defense, tearing a yelp from my lips as he jerked my wrist up callously, fury intensifying in his blue eyes as he seethed, “If you had anything to do with this…”

And how the heck do you think I did anything locked up here? Guess my mere presence was to blame. All the reason he needed to flip the switch and prove one very clear point. One I struggled to convey since boarding this whale. One I now wished could retreat back into vague shadows.

Despite our similarities in appearance, Scottie and I were not the same.

Something Fitzgerald finally seemed to come to terms with as he abruptly tossed me back like a discarded note. My feet tangled and probably would’ve sent me to the floor if not for the edge of the bed saving me. I say that but I was still left on the floor beneath his fiery glare and cold words that chilled my blood even as he turned on his heels and deftly left the room.

Not before hissing an order to the messenger, “No one gets in or out of this room, understand?”

The poor guy’s response was drowned by the loud slamming of the door. Sheesh. Who needs an augmenting ability when sheer anger nearly splinters everything? Guess he had the funds to pay for a new one. Wish I had enough to make sense of things.

What just happened? Atsushi escaped, Fitzgerald was ticked – both unsurprising. Just- How was he so calm earlier and now a loose cannon? What the heck? Why was I even listening? Curiosity? Seriously? Was I really that stupid? Argh! Get a grip Violet. He’s not a good person. He’s the villain trying to destroy everything for his own gain. Sure it’s an understandable motive but that doesn’t cover his crimes. Ahhh…

I needed to get out before things really got bad. Saw how he reacted to this, didn’t want to stick around for the finale. And yet…

I glanced out the window, finding eerie red and orange mix unsettling with the setting sun.

How was I supposed to escape now? Even then, what would I do if I made it to land? Q’s ability certainly was rampaging by now. I’d be eaten alive. Considering I actually made it that far. Ahh… Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to send Atsushi off alone. Wish I realized it then, cause now the idea of sticking around was terrifying.

Because, like it or not, the illusion softening Fitzgerald’s eyes was gone now. Whatever protection I had surely dissolved into dust that mingled with the ashes falling onto the city. A city that was going up in flames. A city filled with countless innocent victims. A city on the verge of destruction – all because of a man I held the audacity to care about albeit briefly.

Ohhh, I messed up big time. What did I do? I should’ve stopped him somehow – used my influence to change his mind. Now Yokohama would suffer destruction I could’ve prevented. Sure it was canon, and yet that fact cut deeply. I held the chance to save people, and I chose not to.

I failed the city and everyone in it – including those who gave so much to protect me.

I chose my own safety over theirs.

What type of person does such horrible things?

Breathing grew harder as my throat constricted. I felt the tears rise but forced them down. No. I would not cry. Not now, not when there are so many people hurting below. I didn’t deserve that luxury, and yet…

“Atsushi… Yosano… Kunikida… Naomi, Haruno…” my fingers curled around the cool pendant, its surface once soothing, now painful against my consciousness as my voice nearly failed, “Dazai…”

What have I done? What do I do now? What can I do? Fitzgerald knew about my visions – the papers he left behind a blaring testimony to that. The worst part was I couldn’t seem to stop them. How? I wasn’t even aware I drew them until now. He didn’t even need to resort to torture. All he needed was to deprive me of sleep and put some paper and a pen by my bedside.

What’s the point of these visions if they only bring more harm? Was this what that guy meant? Was this my burden – the thing that brought misfortune upon others? Was I really powerless to stop it?

Despair crept closer, cutting off all escape only for an unexpected one to appear in the wall beside my lonely window.

What? I blinked away tears I failed to realize formed. Was that Lucy’s door? Why? Was she offering me a lifeline? Did Atsushi ask her to? No. That’s impossible. He already escaped… Maybe a trap? She did get captured in the end… But maybe she was doing this before that? But why? We bonded a little, but not to the point she needed to help… And yet…

If it meant helping them – of protecting them from the pain that awaited…

Then there really wasn’t a choice.

I approached the door, grabbing its cool handle. For as determined as I felt in that second, it certainly came crashing down now that it mattered. What if I screwed up? I’d gone for so long without messing with the storyline. Was it right to intervene now – especially with the finale so close?

But if I didn’t – if I stayed here – would that be worse? Would I potentially cause Atsushi and Akutagawa to lose? If that’s the case, then wasn’t it better that I go now – even if it meant potentially changing the story? I mean, it already took a huge veer since that train ride. But then again it somehow managed to stay on track as far as I was aware… But did I really want to stay here, especially after all that…?

No. Easy answer. Easy choice.

One that left me standing in a vacant, brightly colored toy box. As alarming as the neon colors and whimsical decorations were in contrast to my dainty room, the place honestly felt extremely relieving. Ironic given how far from normal this place was even in this world. Kinda ironic that it eased my nerves. I mean, she’d later become a powerful ally to the Agency and help hide Fukuzawa from Port Mafia. Ahh… Shame our introduction was marked with hornets, but then we made progress in the end, right? Her door, if anything, was proof of that.

“Lucy…?” I called lightly. Despite leaving Moby Dick, I still felt the need to stay stealthy. Lucy was a great help, but I didn’t know why she was risking so much for me. Did Atsushi ask her? Or was this of her own accord? More importantly…

Was this before or after Steinbeck and the others apprehended her?

Geez… I slunk closer to a couple of oversized presents. Was this a mistake? If they were here, I was better off sneaking out when the opportunity arose. But then why show me the door? Was she playing with my hopes? No. She was a piece of work in the beginning, but she changed. Character development and all that. She wouldn’t betray me. Not a chance.

Holding onto that hope, I quietly skirted the room, scanning it for any signs of the red head. Where was she? Each second increased my heartbeat tenfold. She wasn’t here. Which meant she was captured. Oh gosh… What should I do? Go back and save her? But she eventually escaped and made it on her own. And yet if I could bring her to the Agency it wouldn’t make that much of a difference, right? I mean she wasn’t sleazy, she just wanted a home.

Atsushi promised to come back for her, but what if I could make it to where she didn’t need him to do so? What if I brought her to that home, to a place she didn’t need to be asked to protect? Wasn’t this the very tragedy I desperately wanted to prevent only minutes ago? Didn’t I wish for a second chance to do something – to help those I cared about?

Maybe taking Lucy away from this trial was the first step in that direction.

A path that suddenly vanished behind a larger-than-life doll.

“Ahh!” I yelled, completely blowing away any stealth and, to top things off, tripping on my feet and falling back. Or, rather, nearly falling as a wooden hand snatched mine.

What? I blinked, face to face with a massive doll, one I knew all too well, “A-Anne?”

She gave an innocent bounce, as if excited I knew her name. Given the typical dread that came from my loose tongue, it was a nice change. Still… Where was Lucy? I thought Anne could only appear with her inside this place. Was she hiding? Why?

“Where is Lucy?” I asked, feeling a tad ridiculous speaking to a doll. I mean, to be fair, it was an ability created massive doll that pulled people into a room from which they could never return… Yeah. This is weird.

Anne tilted her head. Yep. Honestly, what was I expecting? For her to go off on a rant? Yeesh… Just kidding, that’d be way worse.

Suddenly, Anne zoomed way too close for comfort, nearly knocking me back. Guess personal space wasn’t a concept ability-created creatures tended to have. I mean Elise certainly didn’t during our short time together. Shame that it wasn’t a specific trait of the blonde.  At least Anne held slimmer chances of dissecting me, or so I hoped.

My legs began to burn from leaning back, yet just before they could cave, something was shoved into my hands. What? I blinked at the piece of…paper? What was that? Was this how Anne talked? Didn’t know the doll could understand let alone write.

Turns out, it was a mystery I’d have to figure out later as I opened the paper to find nicely written cursive in a language I actually could read (don’t know if that makes me reassured or not):

 

Tiger-boy asked me to help you, but I don’t think I can do that. Then again, I never needed to in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like you – acting so feeble and so easily gathering everyone’s attention like some lost princess. You cry a lot and mope around all day, and I hate that. But I also know there’s more to people than appearances, so let me get one thing straight:

You are not Scottie Fitzgerald. You are not his daughter.

So stop acting like some helpless kid and get out. I don’t want to waste the effort in writing this when I should be hiding. I guess we both know how this ends, but I’m not going to go down without a fight and you better not either.

You can’t stay a damsel forever, cause I’m certainly not.

 

I don’t know whether to feel insulted or touched by Lucy’s note. It was kind of backwards encouragement, not to mention kind of chilling. I mean if Anne was giving this to me, then that meant she’d already been captured, right? Yikes… Although in the end she did escape, so not totally bad. Still…

So much for preventing that ordeal.

Even then, I couldn’t stay still, especially considering the earful she’d give when she stumbled into the café below. Kinda hard to avoid a place directly below the office you spent most of your days in.

A place I really needed to return to pronto. Somewhere I hoped Lucy’s door connected directly with. Ahh… How nice would it be to see them again – to be with Yosano, Naomi, Haruno, Ranpo, Kunikida, Atsushi, Fukuzawa, Dazai, everyone…? My chest tightened. I wanted that so bad.

Shame that the door led to another hall within Moby Dick. Yeah… Kinda expected there to be a limited range. Still, it wasn’t my prison of a room, which gave some hope – especially at the sight of parachutes. Genius. Skydiving is freaking terrifying and not my first choice. But not like I held many others in a ship miles above the ground. Geez. Never thought that’d be annoying until now.

Looks like I was about to cross an item off my bucket list – one that sadly didn’t exist on said list in the first place. Would it kill someone to randomly walk in my path? Where were the patrols and guards monitoring the stairs to the top of this crazy whale? Guess they were all too preoccupied in retrieving Atsushi. Can’t say that exactly makes me happy as I reached the doorway leading outside in a matter of undisturbed minutes.

Ahhh…. I am really not looking forward to this…

I barely pushed the door open halfway before a gale nearly snatched me out into the air. Geez! I gripped the frame so hard I’m surprised I didn’t break my fingers. Right. Ten thousand feet in the air. How could I forget? More curios, how I managed to breathe. Thought oxygen levels were thinner up here. Wish I could use that as an excuse for my sparse breaths.

My heart was in my throat and it took everything I had to calm down enough to tentatively step forward. Geez… We were super high up… How did Atsushi manage to jump with such ease? Guess he had a parachute and magical healing abilities. Wish I could say the same. Cause right now my parachute looked like one of those rainbow ones kids play with. How sad would it be if it was defective or had a hole?

No. No, don’t think about that. Don’t chicken out now. Just breathe. Breathe and jump off a perfectly safe (well, for now at least) flying whale to the burning city full of zombie-fied people below. Easy peasy, right? Wrong. So terribly, utterly wrong. Why was I doing this again when Atsushi was going to come back anyways – when Fitzgerald held a slim chance of getting me off here that didn’t involve skydiving? Ugh… Why me-?

Without warning a deafening shot sliced through the roaring winds.

I screamed, a natural reaction to hearing something explode just beneath you. Unfortunately, so was the impulse to drop to the floor and cover your head – dropping your ticket out of here in the process.

“Crap! No, no, no, no, no!” I gasped, lunging for the parachute that slid closer and closer to the edge, my heart pounded, replaying every terrible ending this had. But I couldn’t let it fall. I lucked out in getting it and making it here. No way would that luck last if I went back down.

Unfortunately, it seemed that was my only option as the bag toppled over the edge, leaving me skidding to a stop at the small wall (its very presence laughable and not stopping anything from falling over) to gape at my misfortune. Seriously? Seriously? Why’d my luck have to turn rotten now? Ugh… What am I going to do now?

In my lament, I spotted a barely noticeable clearing in the city below – partially blocked from black smoke and wispy clouds. Was Atsushi down there? Or perhaps members of the Mafia? The Black Lizards? Chuuya? Gosh. What a time to envy Atsushi’s tiger sight…

“Get back from there, now!”

By the sound of it you’d think the voice belonged to someone who really feared for my safety. Reality showed something different. Fitzgerald stood in the doorway, his typical well-put appearance a little thrown from the gales that tugged at my skirt and ruined Lucy’s work on my hair this morning. Geez. Of course out of everyone to find me here it had to be him. Why? Couldn’t he just let me go? Guess it would throw off his hostage thing or maybe the fact I looked like his daughter and we had that moment… But he just accused me of helping Atsushi escape! Ahhh.

This was the kind of emotional rollercoaster I expected from Dazai, not Fitzgerald.

Naturally I stayed put even as everything in my being screamed to grab his hand, because regardless of how wrong it was it beat going splat. But gosh… How I longed not to be here – for once to return to that awful room. A place I’d certainly see again if I took that hand.

A place I could not allow myself to return to, not after getting this far. Strange how resolve builds and falls. At the start I was convinced this was the right path, and yet every step instilled more and more doubt. Maybe this is what they meant in testing faith. Guess there’s not much use in a trial if it is too easy. Still, would it kill to ease up? I felt like things went from 0 to 500 and continued to skyrocket.

I glanced down. The city looked so small now. Not ant-sized, but enough for my mind to register we were super high up. No escape presented itself. Well, none that logically left me alive. Great. Was my only option to go back with Fitzgerald? Was all of this truly for nothing? Guess Lucy’s gonna be ticked when they throw me in the cell across from her…

An intersection cleared in my line of sight, puffy cloud unveiling it slowly. Odd that it chose that moment to do so. Especially as it brought back crystal clear memories of a group that likely resided there that moment.

A group headed by someone who may just prove to be my ticket out of this mess.

Okay. No. This is insane, but if it meant ending this… Gosh… This sucked. Why did it have to come to this?

Faintly, I felt my fingers trace Dazai’s pendent, and I had to bite back the dry chuckle at the irony of everything as I faced Fitzgerald. In order for this to work, I needed him to realize something – to accept a truth we already knew. To hold onto it long enough to let go. Gosh. Was this what Dazai felt like? Was this the mindset of a man on the edge of a building?

“I…” my voice was torn away by the gales, forcing me to shout louder, “I am not Scottie! And…” Gosh. This sucked. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t do this again, and yet in order for this to work he needed to understand everything I needed to say. Ah… Breaking one vow to ascertain the safety of others. I didn’t regret it, but boy did it feel crappy.

“And I never will be…” I finished in my native tongue, action proving just as impactful as I hoped as Fitzgerald visibly flinched.

Geez… Please do not backfire. Please do not back fire. Please do not backfire…!

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, somehow pushing away my trembling to focus on his half-pained, half-confused gaze, as if he was a child trying to come to terms with reality, “Despite…things, staying here was not too terrible. I enjoyed hearing about your daughter and life before this. It helped me see a better side of you, one I don’t think I wanted to see.”

What was I saying? I needed to get him caught up in thought, not bombard him with ranting truth, and yet… I glanced where the bag tumbled over, taking with it the pictures I shoved into one of the pockets. He already knew so much. And what I said was true. I did find myself enjoying our lunches, something that grated terribly on the conscience.

Because no matter how hard I tried to keep him at a distance, to hate him, I just couldn’t. Not after seeing that light. Guess it’s just the hopeless romantic in me. Something my family and friends both warned and praised me for. How can something warrant such juxtaposing responses? It didn’t make sense. None of this did.

And perhaps that’s why I continued, “I don’t like you. Not at all. You brought such pain to the people I care about – to a young boy who did nothing to warrant anything you’ve done. And while a part of me understands why you’re doing this, I cannot accept it or forgive you. So long as you remain on this path, we will always be on opposite sides.”

“Be that as it may,” I sighed, somewhat forcing the small smile onto my features, “I know that there will be a day in which you will help us. It’s what kept me going this far. It’s still a ways away, but I know in that time you’ll take the right step. And maybe, in the end, you will find some peace.”

Maybe, just maybe, there was hope in Fitzgerald finding some closure in the end. One that hopefully didn’t depend on a book that granted wishes at a terrible price.

Fitzgerald stood stock still, his hand now hanging at his side in a weak fist. Guess that all was sufficient enough to short circuit his brain. Good. Let’s hope it stayed long enough for my nerves to push past this monumental step. Ahh… I glanced down below. This really was a terrible idea. Worst part was it was my only one at the moment.

“I’m sorry…” I murmured, prompting him to blink as I turned and shakily pulled myself over the edge, “And thank you.”

My heart beat a thousand miles an hour, instincts screaming not to jump – to cling onto life as selfishly as I wanted so long as I stayed breathing. Ignoring it all, I forced my shaking limbs to forego the ground and leap into oblivion.

A plunge that suddenly jerked back as Fitzgerald swiftly snatched my wrist. Seriously? I gave him a wild look, not sure if I was grateful or annoyed or terrified by his actions. Of all the times to show common human decency… Not complaining, but seriously, timing man…

I went to shout at him only for him to beat me to it, “I know! I know you’re not Scottie, but I cannot let you die!”

What? I bristled, “Why? Because I am some hostage to you? Or a pleasant reminder of her?”

Instead of the mirrored fury I expected, he grimaced, voice practically deafened by the gales as he rasped, “No… That’s not…”

Was he being serious? Did he really care? No. It had to be another ruse. Another trick. Regardless, I couldn’t let him pull me back. Geez. It took so much to do this. Why’d he have to regain himself in the speed of light? Did he not realize how far I had to push myself? How hard it was to ignore everything in me to not jump?

“L-Let go!” I demanded despite a very large part of me screaming for him to hold on and not let me go through with this insane idea.

“I won’t!” he grit his teeth, squeezing a little harder.

Geez…! Why was he being so stubborn?

“You must!” I argued, hating the tears stinging my eyes that only grew worse as I added darkly, “If you want everything to work out like Louise predicted, you must let me go.”

Fitzgerald flinched almost as hard as the invisible knife stabbing into my gut. This sucked. It felt like throwing the others under the bus. It wasn’t a total lie. My presence would throw off Louise’s ability. Something that raised the stakes for Fitzgerald as much as it did Atsushi and Akutagawa’s hard fought win.

Something too important to the story for me to linger around.

“If you truly care about me – if those feelings were not all a lie, then let go,” I pressed, reaching to pull at his hand and add in a last ditch hope that he’d give in, “I promise, I will be fine. Just let go.”

Instead of giving in like the anime person he was, Fitzgerald’s gaze sharpened in resolve. Great. Just my luck. Of course he wouldn’t pass up the prospect of a hostage. How foolish of me to think the world was actually on my side.

Or maybe I was just being a bit too hasty in my conclusions as a fierce gale suddenly tugged us leftwards. I yelped, feeling the whale slip from under my feet that were tugged horizontal. Geez! I stared wide-eyed into Fitzgerald’s stunned expression – his form dangerously close to toppling over with me. Despite the fact he could survive such a fall with his ability, my heart skipped a beat.

I couldn’t let him fall with me.

Funny how my will to protect someone who honestly probably didn’t deserve it in the first place ended up being the final push I needed to ignore instincts and tumble over. Indeed, the action of shoving Fitzgerald back with a kick to his chest dually forced me into the skies. For a brief impossible moment, I remained suspended in air – long enough to catch his horrified expression. Something that both haunted and confused me.

All those words, all those emotions… Could they truly be more than a lie?

Answers I’d have to find later as gravity tugged me down fast. I opened my mouth to scream but couldn’t find the air to do so as the wind tore everything from my lungs – threatening to tear my heart out through my throat. I’d never been skydiving, but if this limbo of wind and deafening gale was any indication, I never wanted to do it.

Something I hardly needed this to tell me in the first place.

I managed to jump the first impossible obstacle, but now came the really hard part – one I didn’t even know would succeed. I mean, it really came down to whether I was close enough for him to actually hear, and if, by some miracle he did, he acted fast enough to save me. Guess we were putting that light I always hoped he harbored to the test.

Not like I have much to lose at this point.

Mustering all my will, I screamed at the top of my lungs for the one person who could reverse the morbid fate that awaited me. Someone who, like Atsushi’s tiger, could prevent me from becoming a nasty stain on the ground.

“Chuuya!”

Notes:

Guess who's making an appearance in the next chapter? After writing so much for Violet's time with the Guild, I'm about as thrilled as she is to finally move to the next part of this arc. In saying that I feel like I need to clarify her relationship with Fitzgerald but know they will go over such later. All in all, their weird whatever is simply due to Violet's forgiving nature and similarities to Scottie and Fitzgerald's longing and fact that he is pretty much the first person she is able to hold a clear conversation with.

@LittlestKing: Aww, thank you ♥ And just a little longer, more Chuu and Violet on the horizon.

Thank you all for the lovely support ♥ Hope you have a good week!

Chapter 30: Ashes to Ashes

Summary:

Falling ashes show no partiality

“On the left! Don’t let them through no matter what!”

Orders barked over chaos and flames covering a once peaceful, controlled city. Embers drifted down, burning rain that failed to register among the multiple scrapes, bruises, and tears littering each and every person both dead and alive. Fortunately a good amount remained to fight back and protect – something not at all common per popular view of their professions.

Nevertheless, a great deal lay motionless among them.

The price of victory, or so it was phrased.

One Nakahara Chuuya scowled at defiantly while slamming the heel of his foot into the face of a manic civilian shouting off about some rival or whatnot. Was he perhaps someone he passed on the way to work? Or maybe the owner of the wine shop he frequented? The executive huffed. It didn’t matter. Not when he stood against Port Mafia and the city they dwelt in.

“Nakahara-sama, the rear flank sustained heavy damages. At this rate it won’t-!”

“Send reinforcements and hold your ground!” Chuuya snarled, landing on the roof of a car and gravitating some nearby rubble to throw it in the gap as a rough patch to their border, “We will not lose this hold, understand?”

Affirmation and raised moral sounded around him as he surveyed the damage. Nearly a third of his men were down or close to it. The battle, while remaining in their favor at the present, was a losing tide. He knew it from the start and so did the Boss. This was their only chance in preserving their most crucial portions of territory. And yet…

Chuuya grimaced at the motionless, bloodied bodies strewn about – black clothes speckled among the fallen. Even with the Black Lizard’s aid, they were not immune to casualties and loss. And while he understood the inevitability in war, he wondered…

Just when would the cost outweigh the gain?

“Damnit!” he cursed under his breath, glaring at the burning sky, “Where the hell are you, shitty Dazai…?!”

As much as he hated to admit, the annoying mackerel was their only hope in saving the city from Q’s rampage. Indeed, his action was the driving force in the decision to release Q – a young child Chuuya only crossed paths with on a handful of occasions. Their concern in letting him loose was mitigated by the fact Dazai would be forced into action, but he wondered if that was a mistake.

After all, did anyone know that man’s true motives? For all they knew he wanted the city that stole so much from him to burn to the ground with him in it like some insane mass suicide. Taking everyone else down was right up his alley, and yet Chuuya scowled.

There was no way that guy would do such a thing, he of all people knew that.

The executive scowled, scanning the wreckage and chaos for that annoying mop of dark hair. Where was he? He must be close by – close enough to reunite with that weretiger that fell seconds ago. Dazai had to plan for this, so where was he? Did he find his protégé? Or was he fooling around again?

His fist clenched. If that idiot was stalling for time he’d punch the lights out of him. Couldn’t that idiotically large head of his see they were seconds from fa-

“Chuuya!”

The named flinched, blinking at the vaguely familiar voice. Who…? He glanced around swiftly, trying to pinpoint the voice among the carnage. No. Not there. That’s not where it came from. It was…No… That wasn’t possible…

Looking up, Chuuya’s body tensed as he made out a person plummeting to the ground. Person? No. It was the blonde from the prison – the one who knew his name. Dazai’s companion. The Agency’s pet. The one the Boss ordered to recover if an opportunity presented itself.

The one currently about to meet a very unpleasant end with the pavement if he didn’t act quickly.

“Damnit!” he cursed, activating his ability and bounding into the air with enough force to crush the car he stood on and prompt startled yelps from a few civilians huddled beside it.

What the hell was she doing here? Was she captured by the Guild as well? More importantly, why was she falling? Did she tick them off? Or… He narrowed his eyes. Did she predict his aid?

He grunted as his arms caught her midair, struggling only slightly to reverse his ability and descend back down without becoming a nasty stain on the pavement. She gave a small gasp, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tightly. He reasoned the closeness was some sort of reaction per her near death experience, and yet even that felt short.

Memories of his request to the Boss echoed in his mind. Questions that no one but the two heard and few others held answers for. Questions regarding the government’s dark secrets. Questions about experimentation and weapons. Questions about his past.

And maybe hers as well.

Her golden hair flowed as if they were caught in a dream – glowing like her light olive eyes in the flames that surrounded them and threatened to turn Yokohama into ashes. Eyes that gazed at him in unrestrained relief and joy. Like that of a long lost friend.

It unnerved him. Who was she? Why did she know him – enough to believe he’d catch her? Did she even know where he was?

“Idiot,” he growled, causing the woman to flinch, “What the hell were you thinking? Jumping from the damn sky… You got some suicide vendetta or something?”

She frowned, shifting in his arms yet stubbornly retaining that familiarity that conjured a feeling he could not quite grasp. If he was correct in his assumptions… If she truly was there… If that was the case, then she and him…

“Chuuya?” he flinched as she cupped his cheek, concern swirling in her eyes, “Are you okay?”

Her trust bothered him, but he relented and scoffed, “Of course. I’d be better if that damn mackerel would get a move on already.”

She blinked, a somewhat vacant expression cutting across her features. Ah, that’s right. The Boss said that she could not fully understand or speak their language – a reason for him to assign Chuuya to her case due to his superiority among the higher-ups when it came to language fluency. Should he attempt a different one? English? French? German? Chinese? Or maybe Russian?

An explosion shook the area, prompting him to instinctively turn and shield her from a heat wave that rushed over them and threatened to sear their exposed skin. A startled yelp left her lips as she buried her face into his shoulder. Chuuya growled, setting the blonde beside him to glare in the inferno’s direction after the initial blast subsided. The city dangled on the edge of destruction. If things didn’t change soon…

Chuuya clicked his tongue in irritation, turning back in the direction of his group. He needed to return quickly before the tide turned irreversibly.

“Violet, right?” he growled, tearing the woman’s attention from where she gazed in horror at the destruction as if she’d only seen it in photos and now stood among the flames – grasping they were no fantasy at all.

He grit his teeth, taking her hand and pulling her shaking body along with him, “Come on! Quit dawdling and get a move on before you kill us both! I didn’t catch you just to watch you roast yourself alive, idiot!”

Chuuya jerked to a stop, his expression twisting from initial surprise and slight confusion to irritation as he glanced back at her defiant frown, “No…! I have to-”

Not waiting or frankly interested in her concerns, he snatched her ashen collar and tugged her until her shocked eyes were inches away from his so as not to miss a single word he hissed, “I don’t care. You dragged me away from my men to save you.”

Finally a streak of fear shook down her form. He didn’t know if it made his tense muscles worse or not, but brushed it off. He had better things to worry about than some woman’s opinion about him.

He released her, swiftly wrapping his hand around her wrist in a vice grip, “Time to repay the favor.”

 

…

 

So maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… Yeah, no duh Violet. Bad idea began with jumping off Moby Dick. Why the hell did I do that again when Atsushi was going to come back anyways? Oh. Right. Cause I wanted to stop waiting around and do something.

Turned out real great huh?

Yeah, if great means getting obliterated by Chuuya’s ability. Ironic in that he saved me from gravity’s effect only to increase it to crush me. Maybe it would’ve been better not to take that leap of faith. It was endearing to see it worked but may backfire in the end. As creepy as Fitzgerald is, I at least held some weird family bond thing going to keep me alive.

At this rate I wasn’t meeting up with Dazai or the Agency anytime soon. No, a much worse place loomed over as our destination if I couldn’t get away from him soon. Easier said than done, unfortunately. His grip was freaking horrendous, like he thought I was about to bolt into the throngs of crazy zombified people and fire. Well… Okay yeah. Makes sense. But still…

I did not want to go back there. Not even if Mori gave me the grand-suite to stay in as my own personal cell. No thank you. Not this ki-

Without warning something shot by our heads with deadly intent. Nice that it wiped the glare off Chuuya’s face. If only it turned into a better expression than the shock I felt. What the heck was tha-?

“Get down!” Chuuya shouted, shoving me back seconds before another object zoomed by my head. Object. No. That was a rock. Who was throwing freaking rocks at us? Must be some baseball pro. Figures we’d bump into them now.

As if escaping wasn’t impossible enough.

“Chuuya…” instinctively I curled into his chest, situation a lot more awkward had my adrenaline not flooded everything as a crowd of insane, mind-controlled citizens set their bloodied eyes on us. This wasn’t good. Chuuya could certainly handle them with ease, but what about them? They were helpless victims.

Was I about to watch him slaughter them before my eyes?

His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close so I was practically flush with him. My cheeks suddenly burned. Yes. Of course. Now of all times my body decided it wanted to acknowledge the fact I was intimately close to a fictional-yet-now-real guy I crushed on. That I might still be crushing on.

Geez… Why’d I have to be a sucker for the bad guy?

“Hold on,” his voice reverberated through his chest, and I had to fight not to shiver. It was freaking impossible but luckily he took it as fear rather than embarrassment as his stunning blue eyes gazed down at me, “I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

Wow… I mean. Wow. Who’d have thought…? I mean, I knew this series was all about moral grey but to hear such words from Chuuya – an executive who literally held the blood of hundreds on his hands? It was sobering and, frankly, kind of appealing. Or maybe that was my hormones squealing at how he said such words while holding me against his chest.

Oh gosh, I’m in big trouble. Crushing on Chuuya definitely ends in bad places. The guy was a part of the mafia – Port Mafia. An executive at that. Crush? Pfft. More like a death wish. Oh gosh. Why? Why must I always…

I blinked, catching his electrifying gaze that failed to waver in the slightest. A weird feeling overtook me, not arousal or anything like that, but just a deep calm. Like everything was going to be okay like he said. As if every battle he won and all his strength I already knew grew clearer.

Certainty. That’s it. Certainty. I was certain he would protect me.

“I…” I trailed off, allowing my features to relax (although my cheeks still felt a little warm) and nod while gripping his waistcoat, “I believe you, Chuuya.”

Geez. That sounded so much better and less mortifying in my head. I don’t even want to see Chuuya’s expression. Ahhh… Just throw me into the flames now…

Fortunately Chuuya made no comment to dig my hole deeper, instead exhaling softly and tightening his grip if only a little. While we were already close, the action made my face heat up more so. If not for the fact that my average self-defense skills were pitiful in comparison to his combat ability, and if we weren’t facing crowds of zombies, I’d have pushed him away. But alas, such couldn’t possibly be the case.

And maybe for good reason as it allowed me to experience something incredible.

A tingling sensation, like that when your foot falls asleep, gradually covered my skin like a warm sweater. It was odd, and at first I whole heartedly believed someone was putting one on me until I glanced down at my arms where a telltale red glow travelled from Chuuya to me. For the Tainted Sorrow… Was this what Chuuya felt? Did all ability users feel the same sensation? Or were there notable differences among them?

All those questions and curiosity disappeared the moment Chuuya lightly jumped into the air – time slowing as we rose higher than we should’ve over the crowd. Time? No. More like gravity.

Something that gradually returned as Chuuya slammed his heel into the cheek of some posh looking business man and sent the guy colliding into a good portion of the crowd. Ouch. That’s definitely going to leave a mark and probably demand surgery. Still, considering he could very well have knocked the guy’s head off, I guess he got off lucky.

Using the inertia from his kick, Chuuya continued to punch and kick back any who got too close to us as we steadily approached the intersection where he must’ve been earlier. It was a little odd. I mean, why not just leap over all of them? Or let his ability pin all of them to the ground while we ran through? Did I overestimate his ability?

Or, was it because of me? Was allowing his ability to cover me preventing him from doing much more that fight them head on? I say that like fighting Chuuya wasn’t a colossal challenge in and of itself.  Still, I guess every ability held its limits. That or he was up to something else. Maybe making sure I was safe? As much as I’d like to believe that, I held a feeling there was more to it than that. Something involving a certain snake-like doctor.

Someone I could afford to think about later as possessed lunged at us from multiple sides. Without thinking, I pushed up on his shoulder and kicked the guy closest to us in the chest, sending him tumbling into two others. Any reaction Chuuya gave got swept away in the moment as he spun us around, making full use of my kick to send everyone close to the ground. It was cool and I’d have jumped at the chance to do it again if not for my aching foot.

Gravity may have helped power up my kick, but it did nothing to prevent the tingling pain sparking up my leg. Geez. Chuuya must have rock hard limbs to continue punching and hitting people without missing a beat. Then again, adrenaline is a pretty strong way to block out pain, albeit temporarily.

By the time all the zombie people were for the most part down, my feet killed and every breath I took felt heavy. Even Chuuya’s steady breathing increased somewhat as we stood in the wake of fire, collapsing storefronts, and motionless forms. If not for the fact that so many would die because of this, I’d describe it as oddly beautiful. Beautiful? This destruction? No. If anything it was sorrowful and sobering.

Yokohama would live past this horrid night, but not without paying a horrible price.

How much longer would this last? I glanced up at the burning sky. When was this going to end? It felt like days but couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. Guess time kinda loses all construct in the wake of devastation and tragedy. And for what? A chance to get a Book and save a single life? How horrible. I empathized with Fitzgerald’s plight, but this was too much.

No matter how important, sacrificing so many for the good of just one person was nothing but selfish. Even if the sentiment behind it was good.

Ahh, all I wanted was this night to just end.

“Where is Dazai…?” I murmured, leaning against Chuuya for whatever relief he could offer now that his ability’s red hue disappeared from our forms.

“Hell if I know where that bastard is,” Chuuya growled, continuing toward his destination – this time without holding onto me like I would bolt. Guess after that fight he figured I’d either willingly follow or realize the alternative meant him kicking me unconscious like the zombies. Yeah, not exactly trying to get my jaw broken anytime soon, thank you.

Ahhh… Hopefully wherever he was, Dazai was near Atsushi and Q’s creepy doll. Ideally nullifying it this moment. Unfortunately the screams and groans of victims hung in the air. One a little too close for comfort.

In seconds, Chuuya whipped around – stopping a stealthy cursed person from sneaking up and shoving a nasty looking knife into either of us. It was amazing and a breath of fresh air. If only it could be one that lasted as his actions in stomping to unbalance the woman ended up unbalancing an already unstable sign on the edge of a rooftop behind him. My heart practically leapt out of my throat as it fell – looking ready to crush the guy.

“Chuuya!” I yelled, sprinting forward and shoving him with all my might. With any luck we’d both pull of a near win. Yeah. If only.

Searing pain burned down my spine. Ow doesn’t come close. Indeed, it was all I could do to choke out a gasp as my nails instinctively dug into Chuuya’s back. The sign must’ve had a piece of metal jutting out or something that left a clear slice down my back. Already I could feel blood beginning to soak my blouse. Didn’t feel too bad about it considering Fitzgerald would hardly miss it, but kinda wished it was made of thicker material. At least then the fragment wouldn’t have cut as deeply.

Static filled my vision, only relenting as I pressed my face into his back. My legs shook so much I’m surprised I managed to stay up. That and not puke as the pain failed to subside anytime soon. Gosh. This absolutely sucked. It felt like if I so much as twitched the pain would escalate tenfold.

“O-Oi!” Chuuya stiffened for a split second before beginning to squirm around so his back shifted. It was an expected reaction that anyone would make but nearly sent me to the ground as the movement tugged at my blouse and thus the scraps sticking to my back.

Fiery heat devoured me, and bile built in my throat as the throbbing pain spiked. Faintly I felt the coarse fabric of his coat give way to his silken vest and soft shirt. I think my face was directly below his arm pit at this point. Whatever deodorant he used must be some freaking miracle worker since he didn’t smell bad at all even after all this fighting. In fact, he smelled rather nice – a bit like the smoke-tinged woods I visited just south of Jacksonville that one year…

My fingers brushed the edges of his pants. What? When did they get there…? Crap. Must be blacking out. Damn, of all times. I couldn’t pass out. Not now. Not yet…

Hands fumbled around my ribs, pressing as my legs turned to jelly. Thankfully, seconds later they were pulled from beneath me and the left side of my body pressed against Chuuya’s chest. His arm brushed against my back, sending static in my vision. I think I must’ve hissed or something. Or maybe that was him as my nails instinctively curled into his chest to somehow buffer the agony.

“Damnit…!” his curse sounded unsteady in my ears, like my hearing was drunk. More like my entire senses as I struggled to focus on his spinning form after prying open an eye to meet his glare, “Idiot! Why the hell did you do that?!”

Why? My head reeled and I was seconds from passing out. Why did I push him out of the way? Surely his ability would have saved him. So why…?  Well, it really wasn’t that complicated…

Delirium must’ve finally settled in as I chuckled, action pulling at my wound and adding tears to my eyes. Gosh I must’ve looked insane. Guess anyone who’d willingly put themselves in danger for someone else was a little crazy. But it really was quite funny. It was so simple, how could he not see it? Guess it was an oddity for Port Mafia, but even then…

Prying open an eye, his form blurred in and out of focus as I forced a small smile, “B-Because I like Chuuya.”

Red painted his cheeks and he instantly stammered something. Ahh, guess that was a pretty embarrassing confession. Odd that it barely seemed to affect me. Guess I got adrenaline and delirium to thank for that. Not to mention a rising weariness that stole at my consciousness. My back ached, but being held by him felt oddly reassuring. Like I was in safest arms in the city. Considering his prowess and rank, I probably was.

Good. At least that gave me reason enough to rest a little…

Another curse fell from his lips, and I felt him turn sharply. By the way the wind picked up, I could only assume he picked up pace. Guess he no longer had to worry about me falling behind. Still, it was hardly a compensation as I’m pretty sure by the way he jerked suddenly now and then we ran into more zombiefied citizens. Even with his skills, fighting while carrying dead weight couldn’t be easy. Wish I could’ve helped but it was all I could do to cling to consciousness and not puke on him.

Sweat built on my forehead, and everything quickly grew uncomfortably hot. Dang. Hopefully this wasn’t another infection. Been there, done that, not eager to go back.

Fortunately, the arrival of other voices signaled we made it back to his group. Thank goodness. Hopefully one of them had a med kit. Didn’t matter if they were trained or not. Pretty sure I could manage a quick walk through to patch me up enough to make it to real help. Something I held sickening certainty was now Mori. Great. Just great…

“Nakahara-sama…!” someone called, accompanied by a chorus of relieved murmurs and questions not so secretly directed at me. Guess anyone would when their superior up and leaves, then returns with a nearly unconscious, injured person in their arms.

Oddly enough, now was the time for embarrassment to practically slap me. Yeah, I know, awesome timing. But my cheeks began to burn and I wasn’t fully convinced that it was all from the wound.

Prying open an eye, I squirmed a little in his arms, quickly prompting a growl, “Quit moving. Stay still.”

Almost instantly I complied. Not necessarily out of fear or obedience, more like the look in his eyes genuinely took me aback. I mean, he really looked worried. Why? We only met once. It was one thing for me to worry since I technically knew more about him, but Chuuya? Why? I guess he was human despite being a killer. Was that it? Did I just blatantly assume they were heartless because of their profession? Yikes… Talk about sobering…

It was a soon to be common feeling as the entire feel of the area suddenly transformed into an eerie calm. It beat the tension slowly driving us all insane, but even then… It felt off, or rather somber. I suppose this battle was not without its casualties – among Port Mafia especially.

Turning slightly in his arms, I watched as possessed victims blinked in astonishment, shakily finding their battered, bloodied hands. Poor souls. What were they feeling now? Guilt? Sorrow? Shock? Numbness? Guess any was suitable after what they went through. Still… Thank goodness. Their return to sanity could only mean one thing…

“Dazai…” I breathed, turning my gaze skywards where a larger pillar of glittering smoke rose. Was that where he was?

It didn’t matter. Q’s curse was lifted. Yokohama was saved. That’s all that mattered.

“Damn mackerel… Took his sweet time…” Chuuya growled, at last letting himself plop to a nearly destroyed bench. Surprised it didn’t break under our weight.

Wish I could’ve joined him in the sense of finality. Please. If only…

I glanced up at the burning ashes still falling steadily. They still felt so surreal, and yet the ache of my back and sweat mingling with the ashes on my skin testified this was all very real. As real as the fact that despite surviving this we were leagues from getting out of this war. No. I rested my head against his chest, letting my eyes close once more.

This was merely the beginning of the end.

Notes:

The apparently long awaited Chuuya chapter has arrived~ Honestly it was nice writing with him for a change and now we get to see a little of his perspective on their last encounter.

@Catami: Aww thank you ♥ And haha in the initial draft of this series I did have Violet leaning more toward Chuuya (as evident in this chapter and a few to come) but she ends up spending more time with Dazai and developing their relationship more than she does with Chuuya. Fortunately their end relationship is not all bad c;

@cassjo: Hope the wait wasn't too painful, and yeah their relationship is a bit tangled at the moment but does straighten out a bit later on

Thank you all for the lovely support ♥ Just as a heads up, next chapter may be delayed cause of the holidays. In that case, Happy Holidays and New Years!

Chapter 31: Sequela

Summary:

One step forward, three steps back.

Port Mafia.

Never thought I’d be back here. Shame it had to happen.

Be that as it may, things were definitely off to a better start than last time. Case and point: the sleek halls and lack of rusted, bloody chains. Sure, my escort wasn’t exactly the most temperamental one, but he held more impulse control than Akutagawa.

Then again, when it came to Chuuya anything was possible.

At least, as for now, that didn’t entail yelling at me or beating me to a pulp for spiking his stress levels. Oddly enough, he actually did the complete opposite in feeding me and creating a makeshift bed on his office couch. It was sweet if not kinda suspicious. I mean, just because he’s a part of Port Mafia doesn’t mean he’s purely evil, right? Guy’s got some sort of a conscience, that or felt somewhat obligated as I literally took a hit for him. 

Although he could just be making sure I stayed put while he did whatever Mafia executives do.

Sticking with positivity, I settled on the “He’s a hospitable host” reasoning.

A small dinging cut through our silence as elevator doors opened to a dark hallway. Two guesses where it led to.

Chuuya exhaled and started forward, “Come on.”

Glad to see he trusted me enough to follow. That or he reasoned he could easily throw me over his shoulder if need be. While it was nice and fun levitating with him yesterday, I think we’d both prefer some normalcy and calm after all that tension. Indeed, the guy had dark circles under his eyes.

He must not have slept more than a couple hours last night.

After the losses Port Mafia suffered, some of which we witnessed occur mere feet in front of us, it was no surprise. Hopefully he’d manage some sleep later on. He had a long night ahead of him, and needed all the strength he could get.

We came to a stop before two massive oak doors flanked by a pair of black clad guards who immediately straightened upon Chuuya’s arrival and opened the door for him. Being an executive had its perks I suppose. At the very least it kept them from drawing their very menacing weapons our way. Guess he could simply reflect them back. Even then, after Dazai I thought for certain they’d be a little more cautious even with executive members – especially when they brought company. Not like my bedhead posed a serious threat. But still, better safe than sorry right?

Chuuya took three steps into the room, just enough for the door to close behind us, and took his hat off in a small semblance of a bow as he greeted the occupant. Beside him I must’ve appeared sacrilege, standing rigid in remnants of trauma from the last time I stood in the same room as Mori. My arm began to hurt in phantom pains. I covered it with a hand before I could even think to show some bravado in front of the evil genius.

Mori smiled, rising from his desk as he thanked Chuuya before going on about something else. With each inch that disappeared between us, I found myself shifting closer to the ginger executive. Not like he was much better, but at least our last encounter didn’t leave me with a scar and emotional trauma. Well, sort of. But that didn’t count.

The Mafia Boss’ eyes glinted in amusement at my antics, Chuuya merely blinking as I held onto his coat’s sleeve without thinking, “What’s wrong, Violet-chan? Why are you hiding?”

Seriously? You’re the freaking embodiment of logic. Can’t you tell by my breathing that I want nothing to do with you?

“Isn’t it obvious? She likes Chuuya way more than you,” a voice sounded right behind me.

Instantly I jumped, nearly knocking Chuuya over in the process as I turned and met a pair of unsettling blue eyes. Elise. God. Of course she’d be here too.

Chuuya cursed as he fumbled a little, turning to steady my nerves and stop my movements with a firm grip around my shoulders, “H-Hey…! Calm down already!”

Sure thing, just get me out of this room and we’d be peachy. No? Well, had to try right?

I forced myself to calm down enough to let go of the guy’s vest but still kept him at least partially between me and Mori. Not relenting that easy. Please. Against this killer? Not for another few hours or so. Hopefully Chuuya wasn’t busy because he wasn’t going anywhere.

Or so I thought until the man plucked me up by the collar like some cat and pulled me in front of his boss, growling, “Enough. Quit hiding.”

You know, I always thought it was endearing and cute when artists drew characters like this, but actually getting scruffed? Not at all amusing or cute in the least. And unlike a kitten I wasn’t rendered motionless by the action. Sure, shock could’ve helped in that matter but, intentional or not, he pulled the shirt he lent to me against the scratch down my back.

Pain spurred a yelp from my throat, but before I could grab his hand he managed to get me where he wanted and let go. Jerk. I scowled back at him. The guy could’ve easily levitated me or took a step to the side. Was it too dramatic for him? Please, if that’s the case then he held a weird definition of the word.

“I see,” Elise cut through the irritation, gathering our attention to where she blinked up at Chuuya, “So she’s your pet now, right?”

What? Our minds must’ve been thinking the same since I could swear we both said the same thing only my mouth for sure did not open past the small gawk at her ludicrous conclusion.

“Aww, I want a pet too!” the young girl groused, turning with gleaming eyes at Mori, “Can we get one Rintaro?”

Wait wait wait wait. What? Pet? Me? Chuuya? Oooooh no. Not a chance. No way.

“What? No. She’s not-” Chuuya’s gruff surprise turned into reasoning I couldn’t fully translate but gathered the gist of it to be something like: “She’s not my pet. Why would you even think of something like that? No way. Never. Nu uh.”

He probably worded it better but that’s the vibe I got. At least we were on the same page and my expression did me some justice. Or sort of. Don’t know how to take Mori’s amused chuckle as he smiled at the two as if they were bickering siblings. Now if only he could be the responsible parent and cut it off.

Mori spoke up, gathering their attention and calming the two easily. Huh. Guess he took my silent advice after all. Can’t say I’m not surprised. Now we just need him to give me the go ahead to get out and return to the Agency and we’d be golden.

His unnerving gaze shifted my way as he approached, finishing with something I couldn’t understand but jump-started my nerves to another level of apprehension. One that pulled the tension in my entire body to near breaking point as his eyes flickered lower. For half a second I thought he was looking at my breasts, and nearly smacked him until the cold reality hit me. And not the fact that he was a perv.

No, it was something much more terrifyingly intimate.

Dazai’s bolo tie – the one Lucy transformed into a brooch. Something that, under Mori’s piercing gaze, felt entirely too suggestive. The guy probably assumed it was a taunt or warning or something from the ex-mafia, but coming after Elise’s comment, it did little to convince my mind on the matter.

Self-consciously I covered the pendant, my burning cheeks likely doing nothing to help whatever conclusions were spinning in Chuuya’s eyes as he scowled deeply. Please, like he didn’t see it earlier. I know a lot of people assume he’s all muscle and no wit, but the guy’s smart enough to give Dazai a run for his money. Not to mention I’m pretty sure the requirements of an executive span further than grinding Port Mafia’s enemies to dust.

Something not at all reassuring passed through Mori’s eyes as he seemed to peer through my hand at the object. What was it? Did he regret pushing Dazai away? Little late for that. There’s no chance Dazai would accept his insane offer. Maybe if it let him kill the guy, but even then… Would he? I mean, would I be able to let him do that if it came to it? As horrid as Mori was, he kept things in place. He was the necessary evil. Most of all he was familiar.

And if it was between him or another dark mastermind the choice was obvious even for Dazai.

Regardless, none of that really mattered now as he smirked and offered a hand I’d rather eat dirt than take. Whether he saw that or not didn’t matter since there really wasn’t a choice as he spoke softly, “Now, Violet-chan… Let us see how your back is doing, alright?”

Man. I swear if you cut me again… Ahhh damn. I hate this. No wonder Chuuya’s always so annoyed with Dazai’s choice-without-choice plots.

It was probably a bad idea- Wait. No. It definitely was a terrible idea, but I took Mori’s hand and let him guide me to one of the red armchairs in his office.

Maybe this time I’d walk away without another scar.

 

…

 

Turns out that’s a no. Big surprise, right? Okay, no, Mori’s hands were not in this one. Rather it was my own decision and a horrid luck that created the thin red line running diagonal across my back. Guess that makes it Q’s fault and, in a roundabout way, Mori as well since he let the kid loose to fall into the Guild’s hands. Did he see that happening? Or was it just as a shock as it was to Dazai when he first locked eyes with him at that train station?

Soft fabric descended on my back, gently shooing away the chill air pricking my skin from where the large bandages failed to cover. Apparently the injury wasn’t too bad as it barely stung when he applied some antibiotic, although at this rate I’d be giving Dazai a run for his money when it came to the bandaged character title. Still, given the wreckage and chaos of Yokohama, I was lucky to escape with only this.

Teal light glimmered in my eyes as I reached for his pendent, content with keeping it in my pocket for the time being. It was a nice thought if not for a hand plucking it from my reach. Crap. I twisted to find Mori smiling down on me. Was he jumping to more insane conclusions that ended up driving Chuuya from the room? Or was he reminiscing on past days in which Dazai sat before him getting bandaged in my place?

Regardless, I didn’t like the idea of him keeping the accessory. Not just because he’s Mori but that I promised to give it back to Dazai all those days ago. Gosh. How long had it been since I saw him and the rest of the Agency members? I managed to shove away the longing to see them in the skies, but now that I at last made it to the ground the urge to just see them was overwhelming.

“Don’t worry, Violet-chan,” Mori pulled the pendant around my neck, securing it in place with a snug yet not suffocating tie, “They are alive and well, I assure you.”

I know and that logically should be enough but…

“I want to see them…” I murmured, lowering my head in vain. Not like he couldn’t read everything from my weak voice.

What could barely pass as a reassuring hand rested on my shoulder. Gosh. I didn’t have the energy to even look at him. Why bother? Nothing beneficial would come of it. I jumped out of one prison straight into another – only this one had no sentiment holding them back from killing me. At this rate, it’d be a mercy. Especially if it meant safeguarding the others.

“I know. But the best thing for you now is to stay here,” Mori reasoned gently, playing the role of a concerned parent unnervingly well. It made my stomach knot, trepidation only furthering as he gave a light squeeze, “Do not worry, Violet-chan. You are safe here with us.”

Then why does this feel like something straight out of Grimm’s Fairytales?

“You suck at cheering people up. She looks way worse than before,” Elise pointed out blandly. Always the vote of confidence, huh? Did Mori have some masochist streak in him? I mean, theoretically he could control Elise, right? So was her constant rebellion and torn-veiled insults something he wanted? Ugh… You know, let’s not go there.

Mori gave one of those smiles that’s not actually a smile but something way worse. Like smug and completely uncomfortable to the point I nearly got second hand embarrassment for Elise. Please. Like she cared. Did she? Could she actually feel emotions? Or did she only feel whatever Mori wanted her to? Questions…

Ones she promptly shoved away by pushing something into my hands.

“Draw with me,” Elise more ordered than asked, pulling out a box of crayons from who knows where.

What? What was happening? Was Mori trying to distract me? Or was this some genuine emotion from the girl? Goodness. I really needed to read up more on Mori’s works to even begin to grasp what he was thinking. Did I even want that though? I mean it appeals to my curiosity, but to be in the head of someone like him…? Ahhhh, maybe not.

“Oh? Smart as always, Elise-chan,” Mori praised, his voice prompting a wave of discomfort at their hard to swallow…whatever it was. Thankfully, he didn’t allow it to last long before throwing a thick sheet of ice over everything, “Violet-chan’s drawings are very interesting, huh?”

Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.

My heart leapt to my throat as I whirled around to find him smirking at a small collection of papers – their edges singed from fires that still burned on the streets below. Fires I’d hoped burned them alongside the parachute I dropped from Moby Dick. No. What was I saying? This was exactly my luck. Surviving a fall from 10,000 feet? Managing not to be burned to a crisp? Ending up in Mori’s hands of all people? Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Those…!” I reached for them. However, unlike Fitzgerald, Mori was less inclined to give them up. Why should he? He probably got paragraphs more than the Guild leader, and now he knew I knew about Dazai’s past… Geez…

His gaze grew oppressive in seconds and I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. He knew. He knew without a doubt. And now… Damn! This was even worse than before. Sure with Fitzgerald we had some slim chance, but Mori?

He’d surely use this information to tear apart the Agency – to tear apart Dazai.

“Give them back…!” I demanded flimsily. Demanded? Please. He was the Boss of Port Mafia. He could have Elise or his men kill me in a nanosecond. Indeed, the mere action of shoving away the sketchbook and clambering to my feet sparked the two lackeys at the door to aim nasty looking guns my way. Sheesh talk about overkill.

Thankfully I knew they wouldn’t fire. Or at the very least hoped so. Unlike Dazai, I couldn’t see eight steps ahead of everyone. Just kinda banked on my value to Mori – something that nulled the moment I died. Talk about living life on the edge. It felt like I was playing Russian Roulette. Ironic given Fyodor was still on the horizon.

Apparently it was a day I’d see as Mori, after a moment’s breath, smiled and signaled his guards to back down. Whew. I mean. Yeah, I knew that’d happen. Totally.

Wish I could say it was a running theme as his smile twisted into that horrid expression that seeped with confidence and almost condescending amusement that only worsened when he folded the papers and put them in his suit pocket, “Sorry, Violet-chan. But I will be holding onto these for your own protection.”

For my own protection? From what? Nightmares? Little too late for that pal.

“Wrong! That is wrong!” I hated how childish I sounded, but that was about as clear as I could say what I felt. I wanted to call him a liar, a thief. But my mind was a jumbled mess and it was all I could do to stubbornly stand up against him and hold onto his scarf. Even though he could have Elise pin me in seconds. That is, if he didn’t slice me in two first.

Don’t know if that’d be a mercy or not at this point.

Obviously not as he began simpering lightly. Or at least until an unexpected voice sounded behind his doors, “Boss. I’m coming in.”

We both turned to find Chuuya enter, giving his reverent dip of the head before proceeding further. Much to my surprise and Mori’s as well, another followed him, one whose name slipped from my lips before I could stop myself, “Chuuya…and Kouyou?”

Crap. I winced, glancing out of the corner of my eyes where Mori smirked in amusement. Geez. What’s with this place? Sending supposed lifelines only to transform them into freaking clown tricks? There’s a reason why I never wanted to come back here, and it’s growing by the second.

“Oh? It is nice to see you awake this time, little flower,” Kouyou spoke elegantly, yet at the same time I was certain she could flay me alive on the spot. Life goals.

She was the picture of Japanese beauty – something I immediately found myself equally envying and admiring. The last time we met… Well, there wasn’t really a last time. After leading Dazai and Yosano to Atsushi and the others, I promptly passed out. By the time I awoke, Kouyou was sent away to the safe house and my bags were packed. Still, by the way she said that, I suppose she at least got a good look at me. Sheesh, I must’ve looked wretched after that horrid vision. Even now I recall how nauseous I felt.

Talk about contrasting first glimpses. She was a queen compared to me – in more ways than one. Still, it didn’t seem like she cared much. Thank goodness. At least someone in this room wasn’t judging me.

“That’s nice and all, but…” pressure built around my neck as a hand pulled up the collar of my shirt, tugging me off my feet. A familiar red hue relieved some of the pain but failed to help the kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar feeling accompanied by Chuuya’s irritated growl, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I was seconds for snapping at him that the only crime I committed was not holing myself in his office until the reality hit me. He must have overheard the guards shifting earlier. The tension did skyrocket, not to mention I still held onto Mori’s scarf thing. Guess anyone would misinterpret things.

Still, this sucked. I frowned at him, completely unamused with his now annoying ability. On normal footing we stood practically the same height (a huge relief considering I thought he was much taller), but with his ability floating me at an angle it made me feel like a scruffed kitten. And just as it was with his old partner, it was hardly amusing.

“Chuuya, stop it! Let go!” I squirmed and kicked. Shame it felt like nothing more than weak taps to him. Heck, it might as well. He was Port Mafia’s best fighter. Against him I pretty much was a scruffed kitten.

“O-Oi! Quit squirming!” he stammered, letting his ability weigh heavier on me until the pain in my back grew enough so I couldn’t ignore it.

“No! Let go, let go, let go!”

“Chuuya-kun,” Mori’s voice cut through our tantruming like a stern parent. Indeed, we both froze in the wake of his unnerving smile, “Please do not undo all of my hard work. Violet-chan’s wound will reopen.”

The man gave a sullen frown yet complied near immediately, setting me back down on the ground. Huh. Look at that. Maybe Mori’s not so bad after all-

“And Violet-chan, please be nice to Chuuya-kun.,” Mori chided, adding something I couldn’t quite catch. By the way Kouyou’s brows rose exponentially, however, it probably wasn’t anything good.

“Oh? That’s a surprise. So you’ve finally found a lover, huh?” she spoke as if seeing something foreign. Like we were- Wait.

“What?!” we both shouted in union, ironically appearing more like a couple in a weird, embarrassing twist of events. I don’t know whose cheeks were burning more, mine or Chuuya’s as we stared at her in abject horror at their conclusions.

Good guy? Savior? Please. Mori was a freaking demon for getting us in this mess. Was this where Dazai got his teasing trait from? Color me surprised.

Although… I glanced at Chuuya, his sapphire eyes wide and revealing a myriad of colors. He was beautiful, and strong, and smart, and everything my only slightly younger self crushed on. Heck, the guy wrote poetry and liked drinking wine. How much more romantic can you get? And to think that maybe we actually could-

Wait. No. No, no, no! I immediately tore my attention from him to pin it at my feet like they were the most interesting things in the world. No. Do not crush on Port freaking Mafia’s second in command. That’s not even a possibility. No. Not a chance. Just like Dazai, Chuuya only spelled trouble. Heck, I wanted to get out of here, not form another thing that would keep me from returning to my world.

I don’t know how much time passed or what they talked about, but for some reason the moment Kouyou reached into her sleeve to retrieve a white paper my focus snapped back to them like they flashed a light in the darkness. Paper… Was that…?

“President’s…letter?” the words fell more like an observation than question. By this point I pretty much gave up on keeping my mouth from spewing things. Might as well live and learn and face the fire.

Or, rather, continue dwelling in the fact that I consistently brought an impressed expression to Mori’s face since coming here. Hope he didn’t get his expectations too high. Sooner than later all this was going to fade and the glitter and glamor would turn to dull mundanity. Could only pray by that point Dazai and the Agency snatched me back.

Something that held greater chances if I joined Mori where he was headed.

A place my heart lurched as he suddenly stood across the room. Crap. Gotta stop spacing out, especially in front of evil masterminds and seasoned assassins.

“W-Wait!” I lunged for his hand, managing to snag his sleeve. My heart practically abandoned me as the action instantly had the gun-wielding guards’ hackles raised in aggression. Adrenaline surged, giving me the bravado to ignore them and Chuuya’s aghast expression to speak clearly, “Take me with you, please!”

Silence followed and no one moved. It was eerie and heavy in a way that differed from before. And for a second I thought he would agree. I believed in that fairy tale logic that everything would work out.

I was a fool to even consider such things in regards to Mori.

Calmly, Mori turned and broke my grip, cradling my hand in his almost warmly despite the iciness of his skin. My stomach began crawling, yet I felt paralyzed beneath him as he said in a honeyed voice, “Sorry Violet-chan, but you cannot come.”

His words were kind, and yet everything in me screamed to run. If only. My feet were frozen in place – legs shaking so badly I’m surprised they didn’t cave in. All I could do was stare into his lightless eyes. Eyes that bore too uncannily a similarity to Dazai’s in his darker times.

With deathly grace, he raised his hand to brush against my cheek as he finished oily, “Do not worry, Violet-chan. We will protect you in the Agency’s place.”

What? Protect me from what? Did I even want to know?

Chuuya’s hands gently tugging me back were a mercy, his warmth something I numbly found myself holding onto as Mori merely smiled and instructed, “Since she already formed such a nice bond with you, you may watch over her, Chuuya-kun.”

Either he was fed up with trying to explain the truth, felt the same foreboding as I did from his boss, or actually cared a little about me as Chuuya simply nodded. His arms pulled me closer to his chest, guiding me back to where Elise began tantruming about not being able to draw with me. Draw? Geez… The mere thought nearly made me puke.

Faintly I felt Kouyou’s gaze follow us keenly, yet if she said anything it was lost on my ears. All I could do was shakenly hold onto her protégé and let him lead me to one of the seats in the office so Elise had free range to pester. Well, as free as Chuuya’s grumble to go easy on me and therefore put himself in the girl’s firing line as well was. Wish I could savor in the sweet moment.

Unfortunately everything felt numb and surreal. I was drowning in shock as everything finally had time to settle.

Mori held my drawings of the future. He successfully got me from Fitzgerald before the Agency could. His power was frightening before, but now it was terrifying.

All because I was unable to control this…whatever it was.

Damn! I grit my teeth, letting Chuuya and Elise’s voices fade. I was such an idiot. A complete and total fool! I should have never jumped off that blimp – should’ve never trusted and believed Chuuya would catch me. My actions were naïve and stupid beyond belief. And now…

Now they would cost everyone I cared for dearly, and I had no one to blame but myself.

Notes:

Soooo Happy Holidays and New Year everyone, hope your year has gone off to a better start than mine. On that note the next few chapters may be a little delayed cause of school and work and hospital but will attempt for at least a monthly update.

@seneca: Haha it does seem that way, huh? And yes, most of Violet's actions now cause some sort of injury but rest assured she does learn later on and avoid them a bit better. Honestly her crushes are part in due to my own indecisiveness when first creating this story, so there will be a few moments of confusion in terms of her feelings (which really fit her character's growth as she learns more about the others and can make a better choice than Chuuya looks pretty so must date him). No Dazai yet but I see him on the horizon c;

@Catami: Hmmm, well technically now she does right? And haha yes she does but communicating with Chuuya does appeal and make her wary at the same time since he would report everything she said to Mori and, well, that's not something she particularly wants at this point.

@TheLittlestKing: Aww thank you ♥ Hope you've had a splendid holiday and new year c:

Thank you once more for the lovely support and comments ♥ Until next time~

Chapter 32: Sin of Neutrality

Summary:

The worst thing one can do is stay still in the face of conflict.

Smooth salty air weaved through the small park, coiling around rustling trees and gently pushing the vermilion blades of a humble windmill. Its creaking hinges echoed in the area oddly void of pedestrians. Indeed, the only one admiring the rare spectacle reserved for night dwellers sat casually on a verdant planter – one of five surrounding a small weathered structure designed more for aesthetic than practical purposes.

Carnelian eyes gathered flecks of red from the landmark, observing perhaps something beyond the structure. Dark undertones of times long since passed swirled in that gaze, reflecting a chill base of the breeze snaking around him and tossing his tan coattail around lazily. And despite his typical relaxed nature and position, a faint tension could be seen in his form if one peered close enough.

Dazai ventured a small breath, letting oxygen fill his lungs – chilly sea air scratching at his throat and seeping into injuries yet to heal from days ago. So much developed over that time, over the last few hours. Atsushi’s escape and testimony of Moby Dick and proposal of a promising plan… So many variables danced in his mind, each one an important piece that either led to victory or a grim defeat.

His eyes narrowed. He would make sure the latter never came to pass, and yet… Movement caught his attention; shadows on the edge of the clearing materializing into a small posse.

It would prove no easy task, especially with him as an opponent.

Letting his features dissolve into a genial mask, Dazai hopped off the planter and greeted, “Boss, welcome!”

Mori mirrored his amiable expression and gave a small wave, “Ah, it has been a while, hasn’t it? Four years if I’m not mistaken. Do you still have the coat I gave you?”

“Of course,” his eyes were like flint stones as Dazai replied casually, “Burned it a long time ago.”

Despite the ice lining his tone, Mori’s smile remained unperturbed. Instead of concern or even acknowledging his former subordinate’s clear distaste, he merely opened his eyes to mere slits – observing the new attire and new bandages keenly. Dazai kept his breathing even, staying perfectly still. Even after four years, his body quickly sunk back into routine guard.

Time passed, but some things would never change in regards to the slippery man.

Beside him, the now notorious Black Lizard squad stood on edge. Of course. They too realized the risk their leader faced – a risk they weighed against coming here and found purpose like it had them. Odd though. Neither Higuchi nor Akutagawa were present. Probably for the best as either would make this already delicate situation ten times worse. Then again, no surprise given what he knew of Mori.

“Port Mafia Boss, Mori Ougai-dono.”

Instantly the trio tensed at the stern voice, eyes darting where it originated some few feet behind the bandaged man. Dazai himself refrained from looking or even opening his eyes more than to simply study the ground. Familiar resentment and darkness swelled within him. His mind, body, soul – entire being screamed against everything. And yet for Atsushi’s sake he continued.

The teen valiantly believed in them, and while a foolish belief, they had to honor it with a small chance at the very least.

“Armed Detective Agency President, Fukuzawa Yukichi-dono,” Mori greeted just as formally, followed by the sounds of their footsteps nearing before coming to a stop a few paces apart from their respective groups.

Tension sparked and he could feel Kunikida’s reluctance clear from where he stood a few steps away. Why not? At this range Mori could easily kill. But the same could be said of their boss. Anything was possible.

“So, it has come to this,” Fukuzawa started, a weary note in his tone not going unnoticed by Dazai who peered open an eye.

Any question, however, faded as Mori responded, his light smile returning to his features, “If the government brass were to discover that the leaders of the two most powerful gifted organizations in Yokohama are engaged in a secret meeting, they would froth at the mouth.”

Indeed, which made making this meeting brief and to the point all the more imperative.

“Then I will get straight to business. A new member of the Agency proposed an alliance with you, the Port Mafia.”

“Oh?” Mori barely sounded surprised, leading the bandaged man’s frown to deepen. Was it because he foresaw this? Or perhaps she did?

Before he could comment further, Fukuzawa informed austerely, “I objected. The idea of cooperating with criminals goes against the Agency’s standards. But the proposal came from someone who, countless times, was shot, slashed, and even kidnapped by the Port Mafia. His words carry weight. Therefore, as the leader of the Agency, I was left with no choice but to lend an ear.”

“Well then,” Mori sighed with the air of an elder who’d seen too much and lightly chuckled at the current state of events, “Neither of us is destined to have it easy, huh?”

“The bottom line is,” Fukuzawa narrowed his eyes, “Alliance aside, I would like to call for a detente.”

“What an intriguing proposal,” Mori gave a small chuckle that borderlined demeaning as he raised his cold gaze to meet the Agency leader’s. “Have you ever read the works of Schelling?”

Dazai’s stomach twisted at the obvious direction the man headed, one Fukuzawa tilted his head at and prompted Mori to list a couple more recognizable names, “Perhaps Nash or Kissinger?”

“They are all academics that researched war strategies,” Dazai informed, adding with a glum mutter upon the white-haired man’s glance his way, “Someone’s been stuffing all that into my head.”

Fukuzawa’s gaze lingered a little while longer before returning to the Mafia Boss, “I have read Sun Tzu.”

“Good. You see wars between countries and wars with illegal organizations like the Mafia are not so different,” Mori explained scholarly. “Even if we violate an agreement, there is no one to sanction us. What if the Mafia suddenly breaks the détente? Or the Agency betrays us? The party that abides by the ceasefire will surely suffer heavy losses. Under circumstances that reward the first to commit a betrayal, the agreement is null from the start.”

His smile twisted vilely, “The only possibility is complete cooperation of both sides.”

“But that is impossible,” Dazai answered his underlying question with ease if only to move things along. It was all plain from the start. They both knew, which begged the question.

Why did Mori still come if the end remained the same?

“Exactly,” the man responded oily, “Port Mafia is an organization that takes honor and resentment very seriously. Many of my people have been dragged through the mud – a good number by your Agency.”

“If I recall correctly, many of my people have been targeted and brought to the brink of death by you lot on multiple occasions,” Fukuzawa shot back evenly, straining the delicate wire further.

“But none of them died, did they?” Mori rebutted lethally, voice chilling the air and beginning to fray the wire. His expression sharpened maliciously, clearly showing how much that fact planted deeply rooted grudges and ill will between them. In the face of such opposition, a deal was indeed laughable.

Yet even then it held some purpose.

“Do you intend to make Violet-chan an example?” Dazai cut in, his voice neutral yet thrumming the wire dangerously as his allies stiffened.

Fukuzawa narrowed his eyes, flares of anger rising within their depths as Kunikida growled under his breath, “What?!”

For his part, Mori leveled an almost contemptuous smirk at the bandaged man. Silence drew out torturously, lasting only a few seconds yet feeling like years. Through it all, Dazai stood firm. His brows knotted a fraction of an inch, recalling clearly the sight of the young woman descending lightly to the ground in the arms of the now second in command. She managed to escape the Guild only to wind up in Port Mafia once more.

Why? His frown pulled a little. Why didn’t she escape with Atsushi? Or wait until they returned? Did she see something that prevented such? Did she know her actions would lead her back to that place? Were they even holding her in the same dungeon? Likely not. Many things changed since the last time she fell into their hands.

This time, he would certainly take greater precautions in keeping her locked up. Not only did she pose a hostage for both opponents, but if he managed to manipulate her into using her ability… Dazai grimaced inwardly. He should have contemplated his strategy more – thought of more ways in which they could save the city, win the war, and protect Violet.

Unfortunately, her trials only seemed to worsen.

“Rest assured, Violet-chan is secure and by no means uncomfortable under our care,” Mori answered matter-of-factly.

Dazai bit back a bitter, dubious huff, instead letting the emotion trickle through his gaze as Fukuzawa spoke for him, “We are grateful for your generosity in housing Violet, but she has been away for too long. It is time she returned to where she belongs.”

“Where she belongs? And who is to say that place is not where she currently resides?”

His words struck heavily, to the point Fukuzawa shifted ever so slightly. Beside him, Dazai let a small scowl form. Opposition radiated from their side, threatening to tear this already extremely delicate situation apart. Indeed, the Black Lizards tensed beside their leader, ready to defend the moment that rising bloodlust overtook their reason.

Fukuzawa leveled an icy glare, emotions coursing through them far too potent. The bandaged agent studied him carefully. He was aware of the strained past between the two leaders and its watershed. Perhaps bringing up the blonde was a mistake – a callous opening of old wounds. Be that as it may… He exhaled slowly.

“Perhaps, but that is something she should decide for herself, is it not?” Dazai rebutted evenly.

Mori’s features softened like a parent expecting such response from his wayward child – an image that had his skin crawling even as he remained near stoic. What was it? What leverage did he gather? Carnelian eyes narrowed. What did he pry from Violet?

“Of course. It is our intent that Violet-chan is able to make such a decision once the target on her head disappears,” the man replied cordially.

Once she is no longer a target? When she is safe? Please. A bitter, vile smile, if it could be called that, tugged on Dazai’s lips. He may not know the full extent of Violet’s ability, but the leader was keen enough to keep her close. Retrieving her would be no simple task. One he feared might have to take a backseat to bringing down their more serious threat.

He exhaled softly. Yet another biting choice, huh?

“Do you not believe me, Dazai-kun?” he asked as if hurt by the plain truth, expression chilling into one of a silent killer as he reached into his suit’s pocket, “Then let me put those doubts to rest.”

White stood stark contrast to his black attire, momentarily throwing the bandaged man off. His mind paused, firing rapidly to ascertain what he meant, any hidden meanings, a thousand plans with back-up plans for every scenario and a few already brewing to rescue Violet – all of which coming to a stop once he recognized the item. A piece of paper. Paper.

Dazai stiffened, action quickly noted by his allies who shot him questioning glances. They had little time until they grasped what made bile rise in his throat. It was not merely paper. No, it was something far more chilling. They may have been able to play on the benefit of the doubt and fleeting hope before, but now there was no denying it. Mori knew.

Perhaps their greatest enemy in this war knew about Violet’s ability to peer into the future. And he had her exactly where he wanted.

Mori’s smirk teased him further, and yet it felt distant in the wake of him revealing the drawing that sent a numb wave over Dazai. From behind and to his right, he felt the others shift in confusion that gave way near instantly upon catching up to his conclusion.

Etched into the paper in dark ink was unmistakably him. Or, rather, was him. Back during a time that no longer existed – one in which he stood waist deep in darkness and blood. A time she shouldn’t know about. Unless… Dazai steeled his expression. Did she witness him during that time? Did their paths cross earlier than that day she stumbled into their office? Or…?

“Violet-chan is quite talented, wouldn’t you say? Even my Elise-chan was impressed by her intriguing drawings,” Mori complimented softly, pulling the drawing to reveal three more.

Each depicted Dazai from his time in the Port Mafia – bandages covering his right eye and good portion of his face. They ranged from him reprimanding Akutagawa to staring malevolently down with a larger than life moon behind him to him standing beside Mori with the sun shadowing their features. It was surreal, seeing them so intricately drawn as if she’d taken a photo. Just like before with her sketch of Chuuya and the one he discovered from her sketchbook of Mori and Kouyou among scattered petals.

He dug through his memories in search for these instances, yet aside from pointing a gun at his former apprentice he could not determine whether the scenes actually existed in his past or… His stomach churned as he leveled icy eyes on Mori who tilted his head superiorly.

“Perhaps Violet-chan does wish to reunite with you after all, Dazai-kun,” his toxic words fell like scorn on his ears. From behind, he felt Kunikida’s disbelief radiate powerfully. Even Fukuzawa leveled a stern, almost hesitant gaze his way.

They were beginning to doubt him. No surprise. Violet’s predictions thus far were as striking as her sketches. To their knowledge whatever she drew came to pass one way or another. So did that mean he would return to that side? No. It had to be a ruse, something he planned. Maybe to get Violet back? But then why did he re-bandage his eye? Was he injured at some point? Perhaps due to the mission lined up for him? The questions fought in his mind and he gave an almost sullen huff.

Did these questions constantly plague her mind as well? If so, it was no wonder why the blonde suffered from so many anxiety attacks.

Still, his mind drifted back to the drawing of Akutagawa knelt before him – a jarring reflection of a day in a series of events he would not allow himself to forget. Could it be that history would repeat itself? Or…?

“You think so?” he at last replied, full of confidence despite his soft voice, “Maybe Violet-chan’s scope of view spans more than what is in front of her. Perhaps there are times when she too gazes back to learn from past mistakes.”

Mori smirked vilely, his expression juxtaposing everything glinting in his eyes that bored into him. Yes. He knew without a doubt now. Information lethal to Violet now confirmed by his lips. And yet such would happen eventually anyways. Mori was no fool. If not now, he would likely have pried it from her in an unspeakable fashion. Indeed, it was with hope that he could spare her that fate that Dazai held firm even as his allies stiffened.

Violet was strong. She could hold on longer than most gave her credit for. If he could buy her even a few seconds, then the venture was worth it.

“Oh? Well I will simply have to ask her myself, huh?” the man said chillingly.

A shadow of a grimace passed over Dazai’s features while Fukuzawa growled, “If you harm her…”

“There is no need for such thinly veiled threats. We made it clear from the start, did we not? Your chagrin and resentment stem from your own inefficacy, but rest assured that the Port Mafia will not repeat such errs,” Mori smiled poisonously, each word a sharp knife slowly cutting them to pieces, “Violet-chan’s safety is a simple thing to ascertain so long as no distractions arise.”

Tensions skyrocketed as Fukuzawa’s fingers twitched closer to his sword’s hilt. Dazai took a deep breath. Would this truly end in a fight? As prepared as they were, the electricity sparking the air around them soared to unthinkable heights. Indeed, the smallest of breezes could turn this into a catastrophic typhoon.

One that nearly exploded around them as Mori’s smile abruptly vanished – his eyes darting leftwards a little too quickly. What? Instantly Dazai’s muscles tensed to near breaking point, his gaze managing to catch the object that caught the leader’s almost shocked attention. He was staring at…

Port Mafia?

Dazai frowned, watching as the man adeptly regained composure and settled back into their previous tension. It all happened so quickly he was certain few if any of the others caught it. Nevertheless, it failed to ease the tension in his body as the bandaged man’s mind flooded with even more questions, some of which screaming above the noise.

Did something happen in the main building?

Was Violet not safe even in the heights of Port Mafia?

 

…

 

Tension pulled my muscles taught. This was bad. Really bad. One wrong move and it was all over. All that work, all the struggle and planning – wasted in the blink of an eye. How cruel would that be? To lose everything after all that hard work? After being so close to the finish line?

No. I wouldn’t let that happen. Not a chance. I just needed to calm down and think carefully. Yes. There had to be a solution to this… Ah!

Reaching over, I pulled my knight two spaces closer. A grin tugged my lips as I stated, “Checkmate.”

Instantly Chuuya’s focused expression soured and he gave a dramatic groan, eliciting a snicker from Elise who hovered on the arm of the plush red chair I sat on, “So that’s 3-2 Violet, huh? You’re beginning to lose a lot, Chuuya.”

The named huffed, muttering something sullenly that I paid little attention to in favor of gazing out the window. A few tuffs of smoke rose here and there, but most diluted in the wind and clouds. Slowly but surely Yokohama was recovering from Q’s assault. And yet scars remained – namely the bodies resting floors below us.

Lives erased far too soon, yet cruelly right on point in terms of the story I knew.

Changing perspectives definitely lived up to its reputation as the fact quickly sobered my winning high. Wonder if Chuuya has any remedies for that when he too appeared down whenever he thought Elise and I were too lost in concentration to notice. Sheesh… What a sorry bunch we were turning out to be.

At least we made progress from the initial awkward silence after Mori and Kouyou left – leaving me alone with Chuuya and Elise, latter adamantly trying to pull me into drawing with her. After seeing Mori walk away with the ones of Dazai and his darker days, the mere idea made me want to cut off my hands. Whoa, hold on, not that serious. Just not trying to inadvertently give Mori any more information than he already had.

Information that greatly skewed his odds of victory in this war.

Fortunately neither Chuuya nor I were particularly keen on the activity and quickly found respite in the chessboard Mori left behind on a small table. The guy was ruthless and went “easy” on me, and by that I mean as easy as it would be if he challenged me to a sparring match. Yeah, not fun in the least. Things only really began turning around when Elise joined my side, granting me some of Mori’s logic.  How’s that for a handicap bonus?

In the end, it actually turned out pretty fun and interesting to the point I almost forgot my position. Chuuya’s smile and Elise’s almost innocent competitiveness granted a certain glow to the mini tournament. Wish I could dwell on it a while longer, but I suppose time must move onwards eventually.

Wait… What am I doing? Playing chess? Enjoying the moment? No. That’s not what I came here to do. If that was the case than I was better off staying aboard Moby Dick. Okay, no. As scary as these people were, they were still better than sticking around the Guild. I mean, if I played my cards right maybe I’d be able to peek at Chuuya’s place and maybe taste some of his uber expensive wine…

No! Don’t fall for the attractive bad boy and wine you can never justify buying. Focus girl. Focus. You need to get out and make it to the Agency. Pfft. Yeah, and dodge the city’s most powerful organization and its crazy foe who currently possess a creepy kid whose ability could drive the entire city insane.

Still, it wasn’t undoable. Taking one from Higuichi’s book, escaping Port Mafia was hard but not impossible. Heck, technically I already accomplished that. Albeit that was with Dazai… No. That still counts. It has to, which means I definitely can get out of here on my own. Right, just think and wait for an opening to show…

I say that like Mori didn’t learn from his past mistakes and set not one but three guards at the door, probably more behind it, Chuuya, and Elise in my path. Sure, it may not be impossible, but it sure as hell wasn’t likely. Probably had better chances winning the lottery.

Ughhhh. I sighed resting my chin on the heel of my hand; letting my eyes rest half-lidded. How much longer until Mori returned? Wait. Did I even want that to happen soon? His return meant Chuuya had to leave to fight off Steinbeck and Lovecraft with Dazai. Geez… Please let Mori show mercy and assign Kouyou for temporary watch. I really don’t want to know what Elise considers a fun sleepover to be…

Turns out I didn’t have to figure out anytime soon as an echoing voice sounded – background noise cutting off too abruptly to be natural, “Will you go back on your resolve?”

Huh? What the heck?

I whipped around so quickly I staggered in disorientation. Or maybe that was due to the drastic change in scenery from Mori’s posh office strewn with Elise’s drawings to a black void with a solitary, old-fashioned chair within it. One that held an equally disquieting monotone figure whose grey eyes sharpened uncannily. Didn’t know the guy could feel anything let alone show emotions with such vigor.

“What-? When-? How did you-?”

“Are you prepared to move, or are you content in staying still after all?” he interrupted my babbling. Rude much, but not like I was getting anywhere anytime soon.

“What…? Yeah, I mean sure but- What are you talking about? Who even are you? Are you some figment of my imagination? But then how did you carry me earlier with the train? And what is this place? Are we sleeping? How-?”

“That does not matter. The only thing you should concern yourself with is whether you choose to act or remain still. You must choose one.”

Why? Why is it always “choose one”? Can’t I have both? Okay, not the smartest rebuttal for this particular dilemma but still. Why did I have to choose between these choices? Were they my only options? Or was there another hidden somewhere?

What would it be? What did I want it to be?

“I… I want to see Dazai and everyone again,” I replied lowly, as if something was telling me to keep a quiet voice.

“Then move,” the man persisted a tad unnervingly, like he was pushing for that choice, “If you wish to reverse your fate and save those you care so much about, then you must act now.”

Act now to save them? But wouldn’t that jeopardize them further? It’d been a while since I read about the Butterfly Effect, but the message still rang clear. The smallest of changes could bring about catastrophes worse than those I faced now. And yet, weren’t those wheels already set in motion by my mere presence? Would it be such a bad thing for me to at least try to change them for the better?

He seemed to see my hesitation and uncertainty as he added a tad more sternly, “Staying neutral is an easy thing, but it stands a greater sin than choosing between black and white.”

So grey is the worst option? Ironic given the reoccurring theme and his overwhelming color pallet. Indeed, without a name my mind defaulted to calling him the grey guy – Grey. Not like he gave any other option and I was far from creative in the manner. Still, I understood what he meant, just was scared to death to go forward. I mean, what if I messed up? What if I made a mistake? What if I got everyone killed, or worse? What if-?

“I know you are scared, and you have every right to be, however please do not let that hold you back.”

Huh? I blinked at his now soft voice, a look of empathy painting his features as he continued as if we were close friends, “I won’t say you will be perfect and right all the time – none of us are. But you cannot allow fear to hold you back from doing what is right. You will make many mistakes. They are a part of life, but you will learn from them and become better like all living beings.”

Well, when you put it like that yeah. It all sounds super easy and simple, but actually doing it? It’s freaking terrifying. He said that’s alright, that it was to be expected and to move forward. Must be easy from where he’s at. He didn’t even belong in the canon storyline. He had nothing to lose.

Or did he?

Why was he so focused on getting me to move? Why was he trying to get me to choose sides? What benefit did that give him? Who even was he? The lack of information terrified me, and yet…

He held a very valid point. I could worry about this later, maybe even rope Ranpo and Dazai in to speed things up. Whoever he was he knew more than he let on and that could only lead to complications later. Something I needed to make certain didn’t muddle things up more than I already had.

“I…I want to see them again. I don’t want to sit by and watch them get hurt any longer,” I replied, each word like a spell granting me strength. It was odd. Maybe because after so long I decided to move – like that time aboard Moby Dick. Hopefully the energy would last longer than it did then.

A small smile graced Grey’s features as he stepped forward and reached out for my hand. His lips parted as if to say something but the moment our fingers brushed the world shook violently. It was like being caught in the collision of an earthquake, tsunami, and tornado. I felt like I’d been tossed around and thrown into a blender only for the black to suddenly give way to vibrant plant life and muffled city noises.

What the-?

Bile suddenly climbed my throat and I collapsed to my knees just in time for it to spill out onto the ground. It’d been a while since I’d thrown up. Can’t say I missed it. My throat burned and it felt like my chest was about to implode. Worst of all, after emptying my stomach of the meager contents it had, my body continued to dry heave for another couple minutes. Tears stung at my eyes as I curled in on myself.

Rancid air filled my nose and tainted my mouth. What happened? Where was I? Where was Grey? How did I even get here? Was this still a dream, or…?

“If you are true to your word, then make haste young one. There is not much time left…”

His words echoed around me and I looked up miserably to find no one but a few curious birds peering at my pathetic form hunched over a small pile of what once was my meager breakfast with Chuuya. A few droplets stained the shirt he leant me (we ended up being almost the same size, freaking wild huh?) and the long skirt from Fitzgerald. Part of me was annoyed but a greater portion relieved he couldn’t see or smell me.

Something that grew unimportant as faint voices drifted over the bushes I huddled in. Voices that spoke words unfamiliar and yet nostalgic. Voices I knew. Voices that pushed my trembling legs up and forwards into a staggering walk.

My heart pounded. This was it. This was when they met and made that deal. Before they joined together in a tentative alliance. When they finally started fighting back.

A moment interrupted by foreign words that shouldn’t have been there, “If you harm her…”

My stomach jumped dangerously, nearly sending me to the ground at Fukuzawa’s deadly growl. Her? Two guesses who he referred to. But why? I shouldn’t be the topic of this meeting. No. Yokohama should be, so why? Did they know I escaped? Did Mori tell them? Why? For more leverage? Or…? Crap, did he show them the drawings?

Come on, move! I forced my shaking legs further, up the ridge so that the clearing they stood in came into view. Mori and the Black Lizards minus Higuchi stood on the left and on the right… My legs turned to mush, sending me stumbling to the ground at the sight of Fukuzawa, Kunikida, and Dazai. Tears blurred their forms and spilt over my cheeks.

Finally, after so, so long… I finally got to see them again…

Emotions welled up and weighed me down to the spot. So much for staying moving and going forward. Guess neither of us expected this reunion to get to me so deeply. Must’ve underestimated how badly I wanted to see them again. I mean, it’d been a while right? A few weeks, months? Probably not that long but it sure as hell felt like it, and to see them now…

It was more than I could’ve asked for.

If only it could last as Fukuzawa unsheathed his sword threateningly, prompting Gin and Tachihara to bolt forward in protection of their boss. My heart stopped. I know, this would not end in the death of anyone here and yet maybe my nerves were too shot. Maybe all this lack of sleep and stress was finally getting to me. Maybe I really was better off staying with Chuuya and Elise (gosh, what were they thinking now? Chuuya must be blowing up at me disappearing so suddenly).

Still… Grey said that the sin of neutrality was the worst of them all. Maybe he held a point there. One that resounded loudly enough that adrenaline pushed me up and forward as the two leaders moved to clash.

Strength returned to my voice as I screamed with everything in me, “Stop!”

Notes:

Bit of a long chapter as the next may take a little while to complete. Hope you enjoy ♥

@Catami: Haha true, although his acceptance mainly stems from the fact that he can't really deny Mori's indirect order. Even then he does hold some personal gain in keeping her close so that too is reason enough to oblige. Unfortunately for both of them Violet's a bit more slippery than anyone could have imagined. And true, true. I contemplated having her stay with Port Mafia for the rest of the arc but there are events to come that are important for the story later on that involve her with the Agency members so until next time. Hopefully at that point they won't handcuff her to Chuuya or another mafioso (although that'd be an interesting dilemma huh?)

Thank you and I hope you all have a lovely day ♥

Chapter 33: Devil's Gambit

Summary:

The smallest of breaths may turn into tumultuous storms.

The human body is quite amazing. It maintains and nourishes life – evolving with every trial and tribulation it faces to become even stronger. It heals and perseveres, sometimes surpassing logic and all sense in achieving the impossible.

The human body is amazing.

Something I currently pushed to the limit as mine felt very close to falling apart.

No matter how many breaths I gasped in, it never seemed enough. It was like drowning on dry land, and it took everything I had just to lean on a tree and breathe. My mouth tasted fowl; throat still burning from puking. Whatever ability Grey had, it took a hell of a toll on my stomach. It felt like car sickness times a million with an extra helping of vertigo just for the heck of it. Did he get nauseous too? Or did he learn to control it?

Either way, the after effects sucked and thankfully only speckled Chuuya’s shirt the tiniest of bits. Thank goodness. That guy would’ve popped a vein if he learned I heaved on it.

Well, considering he didn’t pound me into dust for sneaking out first.

“V-Violet?!”

Ah. That’s right. The reason I came. I shouted stop earlier right? Guess there’s no time to catch my breath. Better address the eyes boring holes into my head.

“Kuni…kida,” I uttered under my breath, locking eyes with his startled expression, trailing over to those closest to him, “Dazai… Fukuzawa…”

Fukuzawa? No… Wasn’t he…? My gaze swiveled to the building behind Kunikida. Wasn’t he in there with Tanizaki? Crap. I forced my attention back on the illusion. I couldn’t linger there. If I did… I turned toward the other side Fukuzawa’s blade. He would surely find out.

“My, my… What a pleasant surprise to see you here,” Mori smiled, his sharp eyes narrowed dangerously, “Violet-chan.”

Great. Guess who just leapt to the top of his list of people to dissect? Why was I doing this again? They weren’t going to kill each other. Heck, Fukuzawa was an illusion. Besides that act pretty much forbade them from killing each other. All of this was just some ruse.

So why did it feel so real?

“Please…” I forced my voice to even out; to meet the eyes of two of the most powerful men in Yokohama, “Please, do not fight.”

Mori chuckled in a way that made me instantly regret thinking such a sentiment. Don’t fight? Please. They weren’t going to fight. What was I thinking? That they’d settle merrily and get back together like old pals? That was a long time ago. A time that likely would never return.

One that would echo their duel to come and leave both on the brink of death.

Did I really believe I could change that – that I could magically erase the past between them? All that pain and anger and resentment? Heck, I didn’t even know why they parted ways in the first place. Who was I to alter things? Grey seemed to have faith. Makes one person in this world.

“Why?”

No malice or irritation coated his voice but it fell like sharp stones on my ears. I winced. Why indeed? Why join now? It wasn’t particularly necessary. Heck, they’d tolerate each other for at least a few weeks – beginning with Soukoku’s reunion tonight. There was no need for an agreement. They knew perfectly well what it would take to bring the Guild down. So why was I insisting they make a pact? Was it a mistake?

But then, what did Grey expect me to do? Why did he say all of that if nothing really mattered? They’d come together eventually, so what was this need to act? Why was he so interested in me intervening?

Despite all these questions, one thing remained clear. The Agency and Port Mafia needed to come together to face Fyodor. They didn’t stand a chance apart. Heck, that’s why he set them on each other in the first place. A head start on that bond may prove beneficial. Hmm… Was that Grey’s intent? Was he trying to stop Fyodor before he became the monumental threat he already was?

Either way, how the heck was I supposed to explain all that to them? I could barely talk as it was. Saying just a fraction of what needed to be said to have any chance of them understanding was beyond my limited vocabulary. It was impossible. I don’t even think I’d be able to draw anything to take the place of words. But I had to try. So what? What can I say that would bring the message home?

What words would let Mori and Fukuzawa grasp the importance of them coming together once more – of setting aside their differences to defeat a larger enemy after their heads?

An epiphany illuminated everything, leaving me whispering into the gentle breeze, “Tripartite tactic…”

Thank goodness the scans I read kept the original Japanese pronunciation of the word. Honestly it wasn’t a tongue twister in the least. Anyone with basic Japanese knowledge could catch the drift of the phrase. Heck, I was kind of proud for saying such an erudite word. Like a kid showing off their new vocabulary to their parents.

If only I could relish in imaginary praise as the complete opposite greeted me. Mori and Fukuzawa tensed, both of their eyes blown wide in something I can only describe as disbelief. You’d think I’d shot them – everyone else leveling dumbfounded frowns between the three of us. And even though I was still a little ways away from them, I no longer felt safe in the least. Electricity sparked the air and I literally felt the hairs on my arms rise in trepidation.

They were bewildered and alarmed. Rightfully so. The only ones who should know about that definitely did not include me. Geez. Bringing them together? Sure. Easy task if they both want to torture me to death. Well, maybe not Fukuzawa, but still…

When I thought about bringing them together early, nothing about getting beaten and sliced into salami came to mind.

“How do you know that?” Mori asked icily. Gosh. He’s going to flay me alive when we get back. That is, if Chuuya doesn’t grind me into dust the moment we step into the building.

And the worst part was I couldn’t say Fukuzawa wouldn’t do the same if he managed to snatch me back. Ahh… This sucked. So much for reuniting with them. Can’t go back to the Agency. Can’t stick around with Port Mafia. Definitely not going back to the Guild. Where was I going to go? Obviously far away from Yokohama until they miraculously forgot about all this.

Yeah. And the sky’s pink.

Bile rose in my throat and only grew at Fukuzawa’s stone-cold gaze. Never thought I’d see it aimed my way. How things change, huh…? Sad given everything, but I suppose I dug myself into this mess. Can’t hurt to dig deeper. Ohhh…. This isn’t going to be pretty…

I shook so hard that for a moment I thought an earthquake ravaged the area. But that was just my heart pounding as two of Yokohama’s deadliest stared me down, demanding nothing but the truth. A truth I was too shaken to think of hiding as I whispered out like some guilty child.

“Natsume.”

Instantly their gazes grew colder than Siberia in the winter. Crap doesn’t come close. I messed up bad. Grey said I should accept my mistakes and learn from them. Yeah. That works great.

Considering you’re alive to do so.

 

…

 

Tension crackled light lightning, sensation against his skin a familiar friend. The deep nostalgia eerily ringing of darker times in the face of menacing guns aimed to steal his life, however, did not bring about the same rush of euphoric life. Rather, bile churned in his stomach, leaving a bitter taste the shifting pieces of paper crumpled slightly in Mori’s grip did not help in the least.

Carnelian eyes pinned the core of the silent storm raging around them, narrowing in scrutiny.

Small, unsteady breaths shook her small form – hair frazzled and only partially concealing a bandage obscuring her cheek. Other patchwork peered from her blouse. No. He cocked his head a fraction of an inch. It was a bit too stiff, a man’s dress shirt? Given the size it likely belonged to the one who caught her from the sky.

He wondered if more bandages rested beneath her clothes – injuries resulted from the assault on Yokohama or, perhaps, the two organizations that held her hostage. Either way, it failed to matter much. She escaped. How? It was a mystery he unfortunately did not have time to ponder at the moment.

Not with the two leaders of the organizations leveling cold glares her way all because of a simple phrase.

The Tripartite tactic. Dazai tasted the words like an odd foreign dish, not sure what to make of it. One thing was certain: it struck a deep nerve with Mori and Fukuzawa. Why? He frowned. Obviously it dealt with something before he encountered the doctor. And combined with the source, Natsume? It could only mean that even now that word held importance.

Only question was: what did it entail? And what did they plan to do now that Violet knew about it?

A frown tugged his lips down at the conclusions his mind conjured, none appealing – especially in the wake of their sharp glares. Fukuzawa was one thing, having a strong moral base and the Agency’s reputation holding him back, but Mori? If snuffing out Violet’s life provided any slim benefit he would jump on it. He could only hope that whatever value he discovered in the past couple of days outweighed her blasphemous words.

Words that sentenced her to unspeakable horrors if they allowed Port Mafia to retain its hold on her.

No. Dazai frowned, stepping forward at long last. His action went practically unnoticed by the leaders – their attention focused solely on the blonde, whose eyes only shifted his way upon his hand extending out in her direction in silent beckoning. Violet blinked, and for a moment he thought she’d reject him. Indeed, she appeared like an injured animal – faint sour smell coming from her easily identifiable and making his eyes narrow at the probable causes.

Nevertheless, it failed to matter much at this point. All he wanted was to keep her close, and when she tentatively placed her delicate hand in his, he guided her from the foliage to stand in front of him. Piercing gazes of his current and former bosses seared into his back, intent on reaching the young woman he concealed.

She swayed dangerously, face pale and dark circles weighing down her dulled eyes. She looked seconds from passing out. They needed to make this quick unless she actually did. Not to mention a persistent desire to have Yosano check her over ten times to make sure nothing shady occurred during Mori’s treatment.

Shifting so his hand rested behind him for her small ones to hold onto for support, he shot a small smile at the two sides, “As stirring as that idea is, it unfortunately does not resolve our accountability issue. Haaa… It would appear that no feasible path toward an alliance can be found at this point, huh?”

The leaders blinked, gazes clearing and consciousness brought back to the present by his words, Mori giving a wry smile, “So it would seem…”

Fukuzawa glanced briefly at the blonde hair drifting behind him yet relented in the end, choosing to level a stoic gaze at Mori who sighed in feigned despondency, “Well, this has been an interesting meeting. Let’s leave the rest til next time, on the battlefield.”

His bloody gaze darted down, briefly meeting those of the young woman meekly hiding behind him – her nails pricking his back as she fisted a hand into his coat, the other squeezing his hand nervously. He responded with a small, hopefully reassuring squeeze.

Don’t worry. We won’t let him take you away.

His silent vow, whether she picked up on it or not, resounded in the eyes of the Agency members. Regardless of the outcome now, they would not let Port Mafia take Violet – not without a fight. A bitter huff almost escaped his lips. Fight? Was that not the very thing she tried to prevent? She must not have counted on her presence giving them a very different motive to clash than the events of the past few days – past few years.

Dazai glanced into the brush on the opposite side of the clearing, knowing without seeing the figure hunched there nod. If need be they’d use his ability to spirit Violet away. Hopefully it would not come to that. Then again, this was Mori.

The young man frowned, returning his attention to where the doctor smirked in amusement at them. His offer from days ago rang eerily in his ears and made his skin crawl. Both of his targets gathered in one spot… It was a perfect opportunity to pounce – one he hoped Kunikida and Fukuzawa’s presence deterred.

Something that proved true as the silver-haired man drew the other leader’s attention, “The Detective Agency will mobilize to retrieve Q tonight.”

Mori remained quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing as if questioning why he’d reveal such information, a subtly demeaning tone drifting from his lips, “So?”

Brushing aside his underlying insult, Fukuzawa pressed sternly, “Just for tonight, stay out of our way. For our mutual benefit.”

The Mafia boss huffed, “Oh? Why should we?”

“Because of the one thing we have in common,” Fukuzawa argued with narrowed eyes, “Because we love this city, and as residents and protectors of Yokohama we must never allow anyone to destroy it – let alone foreign ability users.”

Despite his mask, Mori’s eyes swam from the words – incident a fresh breath in Dazai’s lungs. He considered Fukuzawa’s reasoning. It wasn’t a sure fire win, but progress. Sure, he likely would turn on them later but currently they could rest a fraction easier at the frail agreement binding them.

In the end, Mori gave an amused smirk before turning on his heel, “The Guild is a powerful foe. The Detective Agency does not stand a chance against it.”

His logic rang true, and Dazai’s eyes narrowed. Out of all the simulations he ran, more than 90% of them ended in the Agency’s failure. Victory, even with an impossible alliance, was slim. It just went to show how formidable their foe was.

“Wrong…” Violet’s soft voice gently drifted through the area, prompting Mori to blink in beat with his former protégé as he twisted to find her still clinging onto him yet, this time, staring in determination at the doctor. Her eyes sparked with certainty and faith as she declared, “The Agency will not lose.”

Mori tilted his head in a smile that failed to reach his eyes, “Is that so?”

Nerves flaring, Dazai stepped firmly in front of the blonde, a silent warning screaming from his actions that the doctor did not miss. One he chuckled at in amusement that made his skin crawl as he continued onwards past them, “I look forward to seeing if your conviction proves true. Until then, Dazai-kun, the invitation to resume your duties as an Executive still stands.”

“As if,” he retorted softly, “Weren’t you the one who forced me out of Port Mafia in the first place?”

“Hmm?” Mori tilted his head in feigned ignorance, “I thought you left of your own accord.”

Please. His smile twisted sourly. As if he honestly thought he would stick around after his crime. After the absurd price he paid for that permit. No. Staying was out of the question. Indeed, the only thing that may have swayed him to remain would have been…

“You were afraid, weren’t you, Mori-san?” Dazai rebutted icily, memories numbing his emotions and leaving behind something less than human, “That I might someday aspire to take your position and slit your throat. Just like what you did to your predecessor.”

Mori gave an icy smile, jab stinging exactly like it was intended to and potentially bringing about retributive consequences for the ones he threatened them with. Indeed, he felt the Agency members pin him with questioning gazes, a chill emitting from their grasp on his words and their feasibility. Subtly he felt even Violet shift uneasily behind him. Did she regret standing so close to him now? It was one thing to know about someone’s sins but an entirely different matter witnessing a glimpse of them first hand.

Smiling bitterly, he finished in an unfittingly cheery tone, “Evil expects evil from others. Everyone seems suspicious to those with an axe to grind.”

He met his former boss’ grating smile with a mask of his own, concluding coldly, “I too am against collaborating with you.”

Their expressions froze the breeze flowing over them, remaining still in time for a few moments until Mori’s bitter smile wavered upon lowering his gaze. From behind, Dazai felt the young woman tense and squeeze his side, not liking the attention any more than he and the others. Especially after everything they learned in the past few minutes alone.

Not breaking eye contact, Dazai shifted to conceal her from the man’s poisonous gaze, one that sharpened in amusement at his actions. It made his stomach twist, but he pushed it aside for cold indifference – a mask he learned to perfect thanks to the doctor. Whether he saw this or not failed to matter. No. All that concerned him now was keeping Violet away from him.

Especially after seeing how her drawings evolved from the last time they stood together.

“She truly is a special one, isn’t she Dazai-kun. Full of surprises, and yet almost nostalgic in terms of that intriguing ability, wouldn’t you say?” Mori’s words, while typically sharp, now bore a nastier edge.

One that took all Dazai had not to flinch or snatch Gin’s blade and repeat the past – one in which he cruelly brought up the worst possible moment. His features remained controlled, and yet fire surged in his veins at the blasphemy of him even hinting at that man. While he held a valid point, one that the detective already concluded weeks earlier, it did little to excuse him.

Was that his point? Was he waiting to see if he’d take the bait? Dazai’s finger twitched – only sign of how deep the remark cut. The urge to fall back into that blackness warred with the vow he made. It would be so simple, just a quick jab. Nothing difficult and he certainly had it coming. After all those years, all the lies… It would be almost merciful for him, and weren’t good men merciful?

A gentle brush of fingers along his hand cleared his thoughts, grounding him in those soft olive eyes that gained bright notes of concern as Violet spoke uncertainly, “Dazai…?”

Her small frame trembled minutely as she now stood between him and Mori. What was she thinking – turning her back on him? Obviously she knew enough to be wary of him, so why? Was she truly defending the man? Dazai’s brow furrowed a fraction of an inch. Why? What purpose did that serve? What happened during her time there? Did she really know who she was protecting?

Did he?

His expression wavered, searching for silent answers in her gaze and ignoring Mori’s piercing one and the fact he could easily harm her from their position despite his mind’s screams. Was she protecting not the Mafia Boss, but him? Her drawings testified her knowledge of Odasaku, so did she understand that jab? But then why stop him? Unless…

Was she trying to protect his vow?

Garnet met olive, both searching for answers just out of reach, and yet with each passing moment her touch brought a solace that soothed the rising demons. Dazai exhaled, shifting his hand to loosely link the tips of their fingers. Was this what it felt like to interact with No Longer Human? The darkness lingered, but not nearly as potent as before. Since when did she acquire such a calming talent?

“Violet-chan,” his frown returned along with the unease in her gaze that shifted from his to meet Mori’s almost soft smile. Violet shied a little closer but admirably remained between them, tugging the corner of the man’s lips up as he finished, “I look forward to our next time together. Please do stay a little longer then, okay?”

Her expression screamed she’d endeavor to keep them on opposite sides of the city for as long as she could manage. Something he wholeheartedly agreed on as he stepped forward so they stood side-by-side. If she noticed she paid no mind, instead watching almost solemnly as Mori and the Black Lizards withdrew. What thoughts swam through those golden eyes? What had she experienced – lived through during her time with the Guild and now Port Mafia?

His gaze dipped down where a gleam of teal light caught his eyes. That was his pendant, something she transformed into a brooch. It looked odd if not nice, nearly making him chuckle as she managed to hold onto it this entire time. Was she worried he’d be upset if she lost it, he wondered?

It was a nice sentiment, one destined not to last as he felt the inquisitive gazes boring into his back. Or rather Violet’s as she kept her attention pinned on the dark forms until they disappeared. Only then did she exhale deeply and turn to face the others serenely. Time seemed to stop as their questions filled the air.

Dazai frowned. It was about time they found some answers regarding the mysterious blonde.

Notes:

I feel like every time I take the precaution of warning for extended delays my brain's like: Nah, we're getting four chapters pre-written in the span of an hour. You worry too much.

@Catami: Haha no not quite but that would make things interesting, huh? A real person or a spirit guide, huh? ...Yes. Sorry, but I'm kind of glad that you are confused, it is how I am trying to portray Grey at this point and very much how Violet feels for the time being (hence the whole Who Are You?! vibe). As for Mori, well, he should have expected this possibility at the very least, just not really to the extent any of them thought given the unique circumstances involving her "escape". Still, as you can see, it only increased his curiosity which, given everything surrounding Violet, is not entirely surprising or, in her regards, fortunate.

At any rate, school and work are looming beasts ready to eat me. Hopefully I'll survive another week to make a timely update.

Next time: some answers followed by more questions.

Hope you all have a good week ♥

Chapter 34: Sound of the Reprieve

Summary:

The quiet of the eye of the storm allows us to meditate on all that's happened and what is to come.

Tension surrounded us like dark clouds lined with menacing lightning. Not even Fukuzawa’s calm presence helped. Heck, if anything he stood in the eye’s wall. Never thought I’d find him so terrifying… Well, no. In the beginning I did, but never thought it’d be like this.

Guess this is what Grey meant when he said actions hold consequences.

And this awkward car ride was anything if not a punishment. Even with Dazai beside me smiling and clowning around, the pressure from the two in the front seat was oppressive. Thankfully Tanizaki wasn’t shooting me suspicious looks, but his silence might as well be screaming.

We pulled into a lot near the Agency and my heart did backflips at our welcoming committee – headed by a familiar head of grey-white hair. Sure, I knew he’d make it out okay, but after that rough parting? The sight of him nearly brought tears to my eyes. Okay. No. It did, and going along with the feels I wrenched the door open before the car even stopped.

Kunikida gave a sharp yell, but it sounded distant as my feet hit the pavement, only stumbling a little at the harsh landing yet quick to recover as I barreled into the teen, “Atsushi!”

He gave a startled yelp, backpedaling to support the sudden weight and not crash to the ground. Regardless it wasn’t long until he hugged back, form shaking a little as he whispered, “Violet-san! Thank goodness…!”

Dampness met my shoulder and my back stung from his grip, but I couldn’t contain the laugh bubbling up in me. We were such dweebs, crying and hugging and now laughing with each other. Seriously though, he was a sight for sore eyes. Thank goodness we made it out alive. Thank goodness he was okay now. Thank goodness….

“Violet!” “Violet-san!” “You’re alright, thank goodness…!”

Their chorus of yells pulled us from our reunion, and only invigorated the tears stinging my eyes as Kenji, Yosano, and Ranpo approached. When was the last time we saw each other face to face? It felt like ages, and at some points I never thought it’d come. Talk about depressing and deep stuff, but when you’re locked away in a room above the city for days there’s little else to think about.

“Everyone…” I smiled, feeling far happier than…than for longer than I could remember and probably would ever in this world, “I’m back…”

A soft melody of welcome backs followed, outlined by warm and gentle embraces from the others. It was beyond touching if not a bit painful. Mori was probably shaking his head and regretting patching me up. Although maybe he saw this coming and this was some sort of sympathy? Pft. Yeah. And Dazai’s a saint.

Still… It was nice of him: taking care of my wounds and letting me stay with Chuuya and not having Elise torment me completely. Then again it could have all been a ploy for something else. I mean, he always had like fifteen alternative motives. What were the odds that any of them were actually good? You know what? No. No, I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. He patched me up for some shadily good reason, nothing more nothing less.

Although that might not matter much when Yosano gets a look at it and probably jump to insane conclusions on how a long, budding scar stretched across my skin. Ah, but that could wait til later. My back stung but I don’t think it’d reopen so long as I didn’t push myself. Please, after everything I just went through? I was ready and waiting for a relaxing couple of days in bed before things really started.

I say like there wasn’t one very large mountain still looming between me and that.

“Violet-chan,” Dazai beckoned from the Agency’ steps, flanked by Fukuzawa and Kunikida.

Yeah. I know, I know. Time to spill. Let’s get this hike over with already.

Atsushi and the others gave concerned looks. Can’t very well leave them with that, right?

Cupping his cheek affectionately, I traced a still healing portion of his face. This kid… How could anyone possibly not fall in love with him and want to spoil him with all the goodness he deserved?

“Don’t worry,” I reassured, “Everything will be alright. I promise.”

He seemed a little better after that, enough to encourage me away and up those stairs. Hopefully that promise would remain after what I was about to do.

 

…

 

Gold-white light darkened to an amber glow by the time my hand angrily forced the hours-long marathon of drawing to end. It’d have been nice to take more than a couple breaks and Yosano did offer and seem to want to convince the others that it was best for my health, but under Fukuzawa’s stern gaze… I owed them so much already.

This was but the beginning of my repayment for all they’ve done for me so far.

It wasn’t easy choosing what to draw. Past or present? Agency or Mafia? This scene or that? I didn’t want to give too much away but at the same time cutting short was no solution either. Their ignorance was blown out of the water earlier. And besides…

I really didn’t feel like lying to them anymore.

In the end I decided that showing a few scenes of their recent struggles along with a few nonconsequential ones to come would do for now. They seemed a bit confused when I drew that heart wrenching scene where Atsushi cried for the orphanage guy, and more than a little off put by how I drew Chuuya’s attack and Kyouka’s arrest. Still, the hardest one had to be a small drawing I handed to Fukuzawa, praying he wouldn’t show it to the others recklessly.

It depicted him and Mori sitting in an abandoned estate.

The very same one where they’d attempt to kill each other in a matter of months if not weeks.

One he’d hopefully take as an answer to how I knew about the Tripartite tactic.

They weren’t exactly my best drawings but I was satisfied in how they appeared as a nice blend between the anime and manga styles – close enough to my dream drawings yet still uniquely mine. Maybe I really would become a great artist after this…

Considering I ever returned, that is.

Not even a second after a sigh left my lips, Dazai leaned over on the desk. That’s right. Time was ticking away. I didn’t know how far that hut was from here, but to be safe we really needed to send him off soon. Maybe it was time to pull that “I’ve been captured and held hostage by two of the most deadly ability organizations in the world for the past two weeks and deserve a nap” card.

Fortunately, Dazai appeared to save me the effort as he smiled, “Had enough? You’ve been going on for a while now. Let’s take a break, sound good?”

He took my hand and pulled me up without waiting for an answer. My heart would’ve fluttered if I didn’t linger on the fact he likely saw the pictures Mori took from me. Was he planning on some private session? I suppose he deserved one, even then…

Was I ready for the Pandora’s Box that was Dazai’s past and future?

Not in the least. But I’d already withheld on Dostoevsky, someone who would hurt them and bring them close to death. Was that the right move? Should I tell them – tell him? But what if it threw him off? What if his plan changed because of me and Fyodor won? I couldn’t… No. Just the mere thought was enough to send horrid chills and nausea down my spine.

Potent enough that I froze in my tracks; not even realizing it until Dazai jerked to a stop.

“Violet-chan? What is it?” he inquired.

Crap. What should I do? What could I say? The truth? Not like he’d believe a lie, and yet…

“Soukoku…” I whispered weakly, feeling my legs tremble. It wasn’t exactly a lie. His upcoming battle terrified me along with the newfound conviction to tag along with him. Yet even as I knew everything would turn out alright, I was still scared senseless.

Why? Because I knew that horrid demon lurked in the shadows of everything? Because of that distant dream that began feeling more like an omen whose phantom hands and black eyes bore into me with striking clarity?

A soft hand brushed my cheek in reflection of my actions earlier with Atsushi, drawing my attention to Dazai’s gentle eyes and kind smile, “Don’t worry, Violet-chan. Everything will be okay, right?”

Clever. Echoing my words…

I nodded, letting him guide us out of the room and Agency itself. Where were we going? His place? Or perhaps… Was he actually taking me with him? Not complaining but I thought for sure it’d take a lot more convincing, especially for Kunikida and Yosano. Maybe that’s why we dipped when no one was looking? How should I even feel about that? Happy? Relieved? Concerned?

Well, either way at least now I’d have a companion when we got our ears chewed out later.

Or so I thought when he suddenly veered into a building and up some stairs. Where was this? Were we making a pit stop? Did we even have the time for this? The sun would set in less than an hour. Would it be disastrous if Chuuya started before we arrived? I guess so long as he didn’t defeat them too soon we’d be able to figure something out.

When we passed the third floor, the unease built to the point I couldn’t ignore it. But before I could open my mouth, he pulled me into a plain room that I’d never seen- Wait. No. That’s wrong. This place… It was the room Kouyou was in. The one she stayed in until Dazai released her to deliver that message this morning. Indeed, I could make out the remnants of tea on the coffee table. But why were we…?

“Dazai… Why are we….?” I didn’t like the direction things were taking. Not here. Not the implications of this room.

Was he going to leave me here? No. That’s impossible. He’d never do something that reckless. Kouyou knew where this was… She’d be able to find me and take me back to Mori. Surely Dazai wouldn’t risk that, and yet… Why were we here?

“Violet-chan, sit here for a little bit, okay?” he spoke softly, guiding me down on the humble bed. Had I not known what was about to happen or wasn’t freaking out about the prospect of him leaving me here, I’d probably blush. In the end I settled with unease as he turned and appeared to look for something.

Was that why he brought us here? To retrieve something?

He began saying something, words like Chuuya, Corruption, Kyouka, and Fitzgerald, leading me to assume it pertained to the future events. Did he want me to draw them all out? Thought he said this was a break. So much for that. This was the shortest break I’d ever-

“…and Dostoevsky, correct?”

I froze at the name, unable to stop my reaction he easily caught. Damn. So much for keeping that under the radar. Not surprised he brought it up, but if he wanted some answers he needed to bring a lot of blankets and a ton more alcohol. Can’t say the pictures would be pretty, but that’s what he’d get if he wanted them.

A hand descended on my head, petting my hair as Dazai murmured, “Sorry. I did not mean to frighten you. Forget what I said, and just rest, okay?”

If only. Instead of calming, his actions reminded me of Elise’s words and made my face burn. Was that what Mori was talking about? Oh gosh. Did he predict this? Did Dazai know? I hoped not, but the chagrin was horrendous. Thankfully a small silver lining appeared as my fingers brushed his tie still wound around my neck.

That’s right. Our promise hadn’t been fulfilled yet…

Shaking away the embarrassment, I pulled away and, ignoring his blink of surprise, reached back to untie the accessory. He watched in silence as I gathered his hand off my head and turned it over to place the pendant in his palm, “T-Thank you.”

Maybe now I could try to forget the fact that I unintentionally convinced perhaps the most dangerous man in Yokohama that I was some pet of his former protégé.

At first Dazai remained still, and for a moment I feared I broke him until his chuckle resounded in the quiet room, “That’s right, I almost forgot about our promise.”

Forgot? Seriously? Ahhhh. I really was an idiot. A stupid love struck girl fawning over the worst-

My thoughts and everything else cut short as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. What? His lips felt like feathers but burned like hot iron. My heart forgot to beat and barely I heard something click and ting. What was it? My bones snapping from sheer shock at Dazai kissing me? No. Not quite. That’d be a pair of handcuffs wrapping around one of my wrists and securing it to the bedpost.

Wait. What?

So many things were happening at the same time that I didn’t even register the binding until Dazai pulled away and let my hand rest on the bed. The mattress pushed the cold metal into my skin like a splash of cold water that hissed in the inferno that was my face that only grew hotter as ludicrous conclusions sprung to the forefront of my mind.

Things like all of those fanfictions and bondage and Dazai and the burning spot where his lips were and how we didn’t have time for this and what was happening and fear yet excitement and oh gosh Violet what the hell are you thinking stop it right now and-

Dazai reached forward, but this time when his fingers brush my cheek I flinched back, tugging on the handcuff and creating a sharp ringing noise that nearly overpowered my pounding heart as I gasped, “S-Stop! What are you…?!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay Violet-chan,” he soothed with no success at all. What’d he expect after kissing and then handcuffing me? For a genius he’s surprisingly dense.

Or maybe that’s just me as he stood straight and headed for the door, “Stay here, alright? I will come back for you when everything is done. Wait for me a little longer, okay?”

Wait for… Wait. No. Was he-?!

“Wait! Don’t go!” I shouted, suddenly jumping after him only to jerk to a stop as a harsh pain assaulted my wrist. Damn. The bed scratched the floor as I pulled harder to no avail. Even if I managed to move it I’d never be able to fit it through the doorway.

Nevertheless I continued, biting down the growing pain in my wrist as I yelled, “Dazai, don’t! Please stop!”

He smiled. Was there reluctance in his gaze? Or indifference? Why was he doing this? To protect me? Funny given what I already concluded. And yet a flash of yellow hair threw mud in that conclusion. That was Kenji. Was he guarding the door? Did that mean the rest of the Agency agreed to this? Why? I told them what I knew. I gave them what they wanted (okay, not all but more than they should’ve expected).

So why were they locking me up? Weren’t they supposed to be the good guys?

Then why were they doing the exact same thing that the Guild and Port Mafia did?

“Dazai…!” I shouted to no avail as he closed the door – action like a knife to my heart as I shakily slumped to the floor, my wrist remaining at an uncomfortable angle.

The pain and discomfort failed to register beyond the sheer disbelief that the Agency was treating me like a prisoner. It shouldn’t have surprised. I predicted this from day one. This was just a long overdue sentence. And yet…

I thought they were different. I thought that fear was simply that: an ungrounded fear.

“There is no place for you down there. Everyone you meet will either cut off you head or lock you up for their own purposes. If you descend, you will not be able to rise again.”

Fitzgerald’s warning the first night I spent gazing out Moby Dick’s window came back in wincing clarity. And as much as I wanted to shove it away, to retort that their motives were along the lines of protecting me, my heart felt crushed by the cold reality cutting into my wrist and pressing against my shins.

Yet even that failed to match the sheer loneliness and betrayal drowning me as I covered my mouth to buffer the heavy sobs shaking my body. And while I understood them, my emotions clouded over everything – leaving me to whisper brokenly a question I already knew the answer to but tore me apart all the same.

“Why…?”

 

…

 

Blue moonlight filled the room with shades of navy, grey, indigo, and cobalt – creating a sea in which no sound penetrated. Silence prevailed, heavy and oppressive yet numbing to the long forgotten pain singeing my wrist and the itching of dried blood curling down my arm and staining the white sheets an unnerving maroon.

I pulled my knees in closer, hugging them with the only arm that I could feel enough to move. I’d never lost a limb before, but read in a psychology text that victims experienced phantom sensations of their lost limbs. I knew my arm was still attached to me, and it was alive and well, but the sensation… I wonder if this is what they meant.

No nightmares came, but then again neither did sleep. Kinda hard when you’re handcuffed to a bedpost that must be made out of weapon-grade titanium to not give an inch while my wrist felt like it was a breath away from snapping in half – swollen skin building the pressure as a cruel taunt to my efforts. It was like nails sealing me in a coffin. Flooded with the despair and hurt brought by actions I wish I didn’t understand if only to dull the pain a little.

For once I longed for those visions to come – to show me something, anything if only to knock me into that void. I didn’t care what flashed through my mind. Give me Fyodor or Dazai getting shot or Nikolai’s death or anything… Just please… Let me not feel anything for a little while…

The pressure of my knees against my chest did little to ease the one crushing me from within but I had no more tears or strength to cry. It sucked. Like my body was keeping the release away from me cruelly. It confounded and clouded my mind and senses from everything else – from the cool air, the sound of city life below, the scent of stale tea and linens, the melody Kenji hummed in some effort to calm me or pass the time.

Yet it was powerless against the barrage of questions and thoughts screaming in my mind.

Why did they have to lock me up here? Why couldn’t they let me accompany Dazai? Why did he keep me here? Was this what they were murmuring about back at the Agency? When would this night end? Was Dazai safe? Was everything still in place? When was he coming back? Why were they doing this?

Why were their actions, while understandable, so unforgivable?

It made no sense. I never harbored even a hint of a grudge against Port Mafia or the Guild for their treatment of me, and yet with the Agency, with Dazai…. I felt nothing but resentment and betrayal from them. Why? Was it because it was so commonplace for Port Mafia and the Guild? That they were expected to act that way? Was I misrepresenting the Agency? I of all people knew who made up the group, so that should give them some leeway in that regard as well, right?

So why did this pain persist? Why was it so hard to think about them when I knew this reality from the very start?

I curled in closer, hating how the sensation of Dazai’s lips never fully faded from my skin like a horrid reminder of his paradoxical actions. It was funny, really. How alike he and Mori were. They really were reflections of each other – both using similar methods to manipulate people and things like they were chess pieces.

It made me feel like a fool for ever trusting him. For so much as liking him.

Yet despite all of that I think I still loved him. Because I knew he wasn’t like Mori. Because I knew what he went through – what he currently sought. Because I knew he was fighting to change. Because I knew he always had a heart that understood and cared far too much. Because I empathized with him.

Because I knew that all of this was for my good, and that he was likely pushing me away in that same concern.

Because he feared losing the things that mattered most.

Because he never wanted to feel that sense of loss again.

Sure, all of this was still over exhausted emotion-driven theory, but it felt real and gave me something to cry over other than self-pity. That is, if I had any tears left to give.

A growling noise sounded through the darkness, and I numbly recognized it as my stomach. Yosano and Ranpo gave me some snacks earlier, but it felt like days since I’d eaten anything. It brought a new level of torture to my consciousness as I squeezed my hand around my leg, hoping the pain of my nails would dull the one in my gut. Would I have to wait until Dazai got back to eat? Or would Kenji give me something if I asked?

Fear of being ignored kept me silent, and I wished for nothing more than that abyss.

Time passed. Whether it was seconds, minutes, or hours was anyone’s guess. The only thing I could tell was that in one moment the unending silence dragged on for eternity; the next it abruptly ended with the creaking of the front door.

Was it finally over?

Calculated footsteps echoed dully in the room, and I didn’t have to look up to know who they belonged to. Instead I buried my head deeper into my knees and weakly murmured, “Mean.”

The person stopped. Was he surprised I was still awake? Or was it my pitiful state? Did he feel remorse? Or mocking contempt at my stupid struggle to get out? Or perhaps nothing at all?

Apparently he felt something as a soft chuckle drifted over. Amusing. He found this amusing. Of course he did. What did I honestly expect?

I pulled my head up just enough to glare at him – to show him how much I didn’t want to see him right now. How much I hated him for keeping me here. How much I resented coming back. How hurt I was because of their stupid decision. How conflicted I was about him.

How relieved I was to see him back and alive and here at last.

He probably caught all of that on the first glance, but I stubbornly put up a front. Sure, I truly was happy to see him for reasons I can’t begin to explain or understand, but I wasn’t letting him off easy. Heck, none of them were getting off anytime soon. I’d haunt and harass them until Fyodor showed up – not a second more or less.

Dazai approached; his tan coat not nearly as battered as I thought it’d be and glistening in the moonlight like a bronze flame. Glad to see one of them was fine. Still, it did little to keep the barb from my tone as I growled, “Liar. You left Chuuya behind.”

He cocked a brow. Did he forget the fact that I knew about this evening days before it came to pass? Must’ve gotten hit by Lovecraft a little harder than I thought. Can’t say he didn’t deserve it though. Would’ve been much easier if he let me come to warn him about such. But alas, I digress.

His stupor didn’t last long as a wry smirk stretched on his face, “That’s right. You see through everything, huh?”

What was this? Say the obvious? He was beginning to annoy me. Why was he here? Why wasn’t he letting me go? Why was he beating around the bush when we both knew he wanted to know about Fyodor? Well sorry buddy, you and the others just bought yourselves a one-way ticket to “Violet will not so much as touch a pencil or drawing utensil within a mile radius of you for another month”.  Hope you enjoy.

I must’ve looked really peeved as he simpered quietly before deciding it was best not to poke the raging bear any longer.

Oddly enough his turning around only chilled my fury – replacing it with a deep fear he’d leave me alone in here for another hour or two. As much as he annoyed me, I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I craved company, even when it caused my dilemma in the first place. Not to mention he was the only one in possession of the key to the handcuffs and/or the skills to pick it. I should know. I witnessed him unbind himself like some street-version of Houdini multiple times.

If I wanted out, he needed to stay in.

“Wait!” I lunged forward, just barely managing to wrap a hand around his wrist. Whew. Thank goodness. Kinda surprised he stayed in range. Did that mean he anticipated this? That he wanted me to reach for him? Did he think that’d dampen my anger toward him? Ooooh… If that’s the case he had another thing com-

A pair of astonished maroon eyes stared back at me like I was some ghoul. What happened? It shook me so bad that I nearly let go if not for shock freezing me in place. Why was he so surprised? Did he see something? But there’s nothing here but us. So what’s with the look? Dazai never gets this surprised. And yet there was no mistaking his stupor. Heck, you’d have thought I shot the guy.

Before I could say his name to shake him from the trance, he got out on his own. His lips curled into a wry smile as he twisted his wrist in my hand – easily escaping only to walk forward until he loomed over. I didn’t know what was happening or what prompted his sudden rollercoaster ride of emotions. Maybe stress from the mission? Or interacting with Chuuya? Didn’t really get to see those after effects last time.

“Interesting…” he murmured, sending goosebumps along my skin.

His calloused fingers traced down the side of my face, finding refuge where my neck and shoulder met as he leaned in close. Before I had the chance to register what was happening, his lips pressed into mine.

 

---

 

Extra: Sighing Rosé

 

“You’re just saying that because you lost three times in a row.”

“No I am not! Anyone can see that two against one is completely unfair.”

“Oh? I thought you said you were more than capable of winning no matter what. Was Chuuya lying?”

“No, but I didn’t think some kid would actually be that smart,” Chuuya muttered sullenly, at last averting his eyes from Elise’s crystalline ones that glittered in victory.

How the hell did he end up bickering with her over a stupid game? Because of Violet’s sudden, completely unsuspicious turn toward winning? Because he simply found arguing more familiar and thus comforting than the lingering despondence and worry clouding those olive eyes? Emotions he struggled to so much as think of a way to combat without worsening them.

Chuuya frowned, fiery will to outmatch the young blonde dissipating. Since when did he care so much about how that woman felt? She was nothing more than a hostage – albeit one with an astounding ability and potential life altering connection to his past…

“Ahh…” Chuuya groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward away the cumbersome thoughts. No. He just needed to focus and keep her here. Simple and easy.

If only his company held the same faith he mustered in himself.

“You really suck at hosting guests, huh? Constantly sighing every time you see her… It’s no wonder she barely talks,” Elise gave a deeply disappointed look far too aged for her youth, “And here I thought you were a good owner. Poor Violet, she really took a downgrade when you got her.”

Chuuya’s brow twitched, annoyance returning swiftly to his azure gaze as he gritted out between clenched teeth, “How many times must I tell you that she’s not my damn pet? And I don’t constantly sigh every time I see her.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Elise hummed, attention settled on fiddling with the black knight she plucked from his side.

“I do not.”

Elise smiled purely, expression stark juxtaposition to the irritation marring his features as she offered, “Oh? Why don’t we ask Violet what she thinks? Bet she’ll say you mope around too much.”

“As if,” Chuuya huffed, turning in beat with the blonde to settle this petty feud.

“Tell her I don’t-” “Tell him he always-”

Their combined voices cut short, blue eyes blinking in startling similarity as they stared at the empty chair – its cushions void of their companion. What? Silence hung in the air as they stared dumbfounded at the vacancy – quiet lasting a few seconds longer until reality hit them both.

Elise immediately doubled over in laughter. Chuuya cursed, jumping to his feet and searching every part of the office – former civility in keeping a professional distance from his boss’ desk overlooked in the search for the blonde. Someone whose impossible disappearance only heightened his irritation and nerves to levels he didn’t think possible without the presence of a certain mackerel.

“Damn it!” he cursed, storming past Elise who only just managed to steady her breathing and lean on the chair’s arm to watch him wrench open the door and interrogate the poor guards there who stammered weakly that no one besides the angry ginger opened the door within the past hour.

She observed with amused eyes as he went through the stages of disbelief, irritation, denial, fury, and finally acceptance – last resulting in the man pinching the bridge of his nose muttering under his breath how the hell the blonde managed to slip away and how he was possibly going to explain himself to the Boss. Indeed, he was so consumed in his thoughts he barely reacted to the door opening.

“Oh?” Kouyou’s silky voice drifted through the room, quaint surprise and amusement glowing in her eyes as she gazed at the childish patterns and figures Elise drew into her protégé’s coat and, more notably, the lack of their honored guest.

Her painted lips drew up in a desire to jab at Chuuya, but she mercifully relented. Still… To lose her so soon… Maybe they underestimated her. Either way she’d certainly find herself on a short leash when they retrieved her. Knowing the ginger he’d refuse to let her dupe him a second time.

“Ah, and here I thought I’d finally be able to have a pleasant drink with that lovely flower,” she sighed, unable to resist that much as Chuuya shot a sullen glare between his fingers, expression softening a tiny bit as she poured a sweet rosé for him. Not exactly his favorite but something he accepted nonetheless with a small sigh that made Elise giggle.

 

 

Notes:

Soo yeah, I'm just going to leave this here and let it cook for a couple of days.

@cassjo: First off, thank you for the lovely comment that inspired a mess of an extra that hopefully gives some insight on Chuuya's dilemma and the fact that no matter how much anyone tries to convince me otherwise Elise is a savage ten year old. As for Mori smiling, well, yes it is creepy as hell and definite red flags as he gathers so much in the mere action of people twitching and, well, a lot more than that happened. Unfortunately for Violet and Dazai, that's not going to do them any favors in the future.

@seneca: Aww. To think that I'd become the very person I silently cursed in my university's halls as I unsuccessfully stifled laughter and gasps from reading fics. Ha, yeah it kinda took me by surprise too - this chapter especially as all but the extra was pretty much completed in fifteen minutes. Blame the stress of writing five essays for a literature exam I had to do in high school for that burst of words.
Hope this chapter sheds some light on the dilemmas faced by the Agency (more to come in the later chapters on the whole Natsume issue) but rest assured Violet is coping with her revelations. Well, sort of. Kinda a scrape your knee and learn from your mistake process that will take some time for her to get out of.
Yes, yes. Ironically it only came to me that Violet's "ability" is similar to Odasaku's a few chapters ago - something that undoubtedly went noticed by Dazai the moment he learned of her oddity. Perhaps that's why he was so interested in her, hmm?
Yep. It's kind of how I see Dazai's character. In No Longer Human (an amazing read I 10/10 recommend), the theme of what makes someone human is littered throughout the story and I found BSD Dazai's character to reflect elements of that as a lot of his actions, especially when he tries to be honest and good, come off as tentative, like he's testing the waters and searching for a sign that hey this is good, this is more human than demon. And I always did wonder what the reactions of the Agency members there were of his not so lighthearted and subtle threat. Even with knowing a little about his former profession (wonder if that means the 700,000 prize is no more; poor Atsushi), it still is a shocker - which, again, is something of a theme I'm going for in this work that's turning out to be a lot longer than I initially planned.

Chapter 35: Conundrum

Summary:

There is nothing more complicated, more confounding than love.

Time stopped.

Stopped? No. More like shattered. Everything in this world, all space, time, meaning, logic, emotions – everything crumbled to dust. Everything stopped and began to lose all meaning and existence until the only thing remaining was me and the man whose feathery lips pressed into mine.

Lips that kissed me tenderly and reverently as the hand at the base of my neck shifted so his fingers could weave through my hair and press my doll-like body closer.

After all, it wasn’t doing much. Why would it when Dazai freaking Osamu was kissing me?

What was happening? Why did he-? Why was-? What-? Why-? How-?

As shocking as all of this was, it left me in a numb upset as I realized I never got the chance to savor the feeling of him kissing me when Dazai pulled away. What was that? Was it a tease? A ruse to get on my good side? It was pretty damn good if that was the case, I’d give him that much. But still, why-?

Suddenly the room swayed. Whether it was from shock or something about him that released all the pent up exhaustion, I felt extremely weak. Like seconds from passing out. Figures it’d happen now and not earlier when I wanted it to. Seriously, could it not tell that I actually wanted to stay awake a bit longer? To ask what the heck was that?

To maybe feel it again so as to see it wasn’t some hallucination?

I fell onto the mattress. Guess that’s a no. Damn.

Dazai remained surprisingly quiet after all that, content in watching me struggle with the emotional roller coaster he dragged me on. His eyes glinted a weird red in the moonlight, something I’m pretty sure was an illusion as my vision tunneled.

With the remnants of my strength, I reached for him, “Da…zai…”

The last thing I saw was his wry smirk before the darkness overtook me at long last.

 

…

 

Smoke-tinged sea air greeted me, pulling me out of the darkness. Remnants of Q’s attack? Were there still fires burning even now? Just how damaged was the city? How long would it take to recover?

Was it even worth it considering what awaited?

Of course. It was the home of countless – tainted or not. Giving those people a little peace counted for something, right? Besides, while I am an outcast in this world, the city, like all of its residents, was precious to me. Perhaps that’s what I should do: help them with the time I have left of this arc. Make the most of my actions before they grew limited.

“Violet…”

His voice cut through the morning haze, bringing with it the phantoms of his lips against mine. Once more my body froze in that time, stunned that something like that actually happened. That it happened to me. That I was kissed. By someone I considered unreachable. By a man I would never full understand. By Dazai.

The man whose form shifted back and forth – partially obscured by a kitchen counter neatly arranged with two cups of steaming liquid.

The man who instantly noticed the gaze boring into the back of his head and turned to give a gentle smile, “Good morning, Violet-chan.”

Good morning? That’s all you have to say? Good morning? Not ‘Oh hey we kissed last night out of the blue’ or, heck, ‘Hey I am sorry for locking you up here’? Just good morning?

Could that all really have been a dream? A hallucination? Should I feel sad about that or grateful? Apparently my body chose for me as I numbly raised my hands to brush against my lips. It was a cracked mirror to his soft touch. A stab of pain struck at the absence of that warmth.

Or maybe that was my bandaged, un-handcuffed wrist.

It looked swollen still, but not bad. Did he unlock it after I passed out? Seriously, timing man. Couldn’t he have done that from the start? Guess I would’ve probably bolted. Was that why he kissed me? To keep me from running away? Was that it? Just a ploy to keep me there? My eyes stung and vaguely I realized it was from tears.

And this is why I disregarded the possibility of relationships here – especially with Dazai. It could only end in heartbreak. Something inevitable, it seemed, no matter what I did at this point.

I sank a little. Literally as Dazai sat on the mattress and reached out. My heart leapt to my throat. What was he doing? How’d he even get here? Was he going to tease me again? Or lock me up? I didn’t know. And for the first time I felt extremely uncomfortable being alone with him. Before his fingers grazed my skin, I jerked away as if he was molten lava.

By the surprised look on his face, he didn’t expect that strong of a reaction. To be honest neither did I. But I couldn’t handle this roller coaster. Not now. Not when the Guild was still lurking about and Fyodor loomed on the horizon… Heck, I don’t think I’d ever be ready for him...

And the worst part was I still couldn’t express the jumbled mess of feeling churning inside me.

“I don’t understand…!” I whispered, lowering my face so he couldn’t see how much of a mess I felt like. My burning cheeks were dotted with stinging teardrops, “This. The Guild. Port Mafia. The Agency. Everyone. Dazai… I don’t understand!”

This sucked. My emotions were all over the place and the worst part was I knew they were but could do nothing to contain them. Weariness from last night returned tenfold, and it was all I could do not to curl up and pass out. I didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not really ever. Falling in love was scary enough, but with someone like Dazai?

It was beyond terrifying.

“I’m sorry…"

My heart skipped a beat. Sorry? For what? For locking me up? For leaving me behind? For everything I survived? For that kiss? Gosh. Don’t tell me he regretted it. Was it really just a spur of the moment miscalculation? Was that all that was? Should I even dare to hope it was more?

Fingertips barely brushing my bandaged wrist answered those thoughts as Dazai murmured, “I’m sorry we hurt you.”

Ah. So he means my wrist. He is apologizing for the damage done. Not locking me up, but the fact that in doing so it brought me harm. But that wasn’t his fault alone. I held just as much blame for trying to get out, albeit the natural instinct in that situation.

“It’s…alright,” I wiped the tears from my eyes tiredly. I should’ve clung to sleep longer…

Something that suddenly felt on the other side of the planet as he reached over and cupped his hand behind my ear; weaving his fingers through some of my hair that caught a little on his bandages. Instantaneously all the sleepiness and fogginess disappeared – replaced by a very awake feeling that stole my breath away when I blinked at him. What was he doing? Was he going to try and kiss me again? Oh gosh. No, no, no. As much as I wanted to memorize it earlier, going back on that crazy ride was not exactly the best thing.

My cheeks were on fire, yet the moment I met his eyes it was as if someone splashed icy water on them. Something…wasn’t right. Not in a necessarily bad way, just not good. Like he was puzzled. And given Dazai that rarely spelt anything good. What happened?

Did I even want to know what he was thinking?

Not really, but I felt some common courtesy was due, “Dazai…?”

He began murmuring something I didn’t quite understand. By his tone it held meaning to him, and not in a good way since his smile, when it showed, was small and an obvious burden on his features. What was he saying? Was it about the mission? Oh gosh… Did something happen to Chuuya? That’s impossible. He couldn’t have…

Tears blurred my vision, but before I could descend into sobs, he spoke Atsushi’s name. Atsushi? What did he have to do with his fight last night? He couldn’t have come along. That would make no sense. So did that mean this wasn’t about last night’s fight? Was Chuuya okay then?

Dazai dipped his head, letting his hand fall to the space between us as he whispered, “Forgive me, Violet-chan.”

What? What now? I wanted to pick apart what he must feel guilty about, but the sight of him bowing with his forehead millimeters away from the mattress stopped me. It tore at me for reasons I couldn’t explain. Sure, he might be faking it, but it felt so real that any regard to what crimes he thought he committed were rendered null by the urge to just stop this scene. To restore him back to that Dazai who smiled and joked around.

The Dazai before we went our separate ways in the beginning of this whole mess all those days ago.

Tentatively, I reached forward to pet his head, weaving my fingers through his oily locks in I hope a soothing manner. My nerves were still frayed from last night, and I think I was shaking, but not to the point that I couldn’t attempt to ease whatever plagued him – real or not.

He tensed a little under my hand. Oh gosh. Was this a mistake? Geez, I thought it was okay, especially given last night, but apparently not. What the heck? What’s with the changing standards? At this rate he’d give Jekyll and Hyde a run for their money. Everything he did confounded me – translation barrier or not. Was it hopeless to attempt to understand him? Akutagawa did say as much to Atsushi in the future.

And yet, while I understood that, I still sought to understand him. Because some part of me resonated with him and the author he represented.

A man smart enough to topple Port Mafia, yet unable to comprehend just how good he was.

“Dazai is good,” I murmured, “Not bad. Good.”

Have you ever seen someone experience an emotion so powerfully that you feel it? Like empathy but ten times more? It usually involved eye contact or something like that. This only testified how astonished Dazai was to hear those words as I felt his emotions clearly without him moving a muscle. Knowing just how much those words implied – that he was a good man – still did little to prepare me for the rush of numb shock that nearly sent me plopping onto the bed. By some miracle I remained upright, continuing to weave my fingers through his hair and lightly comb all the knots out.

We stayed like that for a while, the sunlight filtering through the window and warming my skin and his hair pleasingly. I think at one point Dazai fell asleep since his head gradually rested fully onto my lap (all in all very embarrassing at first but ultimately soothing still and kinda touching considering he trusted me enough – that or he really was pervy like Kunikida grumbled all the time). His breathing evened out and yet I hesitated to believe him asleep. Blame youth and tricking my parents and siblings into thinking I was out cold when the truth was anything but.

Still, he was fairly convincing and everything fell into place to the point I’d have dozed off if not for a grumbling sound rising from my stomach alongside a faint chuckle. Yep, called it.  Shame I couldn’t dwell in that victory as Dazai’s wry smirk and proximity finally registered. His face practically pressed into my stomach that was about to burst with butterflies. Even though a layer of fabric separated his lips and my skin, my heightened nerves and burning face already skipped a dozen steps and felt hallucinations of his touch.

Recollections of those lips against mine.

“Hungry?” he simpered, eyes glowing with amusement that I had to look away from if only to keep my face from catching fire. A futile effort as he rose and grabbed my uninjured hand to tug me off the bed with him, “Come on, let’s eat.”

He said something else but my heart was pounding so loudly I barely registered he spoke. I think he was saying something along the lines of reheating the breakfast-now-brunch he made. Please, my face was hot enough. Something cool was more than welcome at this point. Oh gosh… Could he feel that through our hands? Geez, mine was probably super sweaty and gross and ahhh….

Still… I glanced up at his clownish smile and glowing eyes. They weren’t especially bad. And if he truly felt happier than I guess I couldn’t complain. And yet a grey emotion welled up in me. Not quite sorrow but, how do I say it… Loss I suppose? Yeah, it’s different but that’s the closest word for it I can find.

Loss of the simple times before – of that gentle golden light that now seemed so far out of reach. But maybe, just maybe, a better light awaited us on the other side of the dark clouds looming on the horizon.

Notes:

Well that was exactly not how I expected you all to take that. I'm just glad I made one more chapter in time before things really get started with work and school.

Anyways, Violet's too forgiving for her own good but for someone like Dazai...well, it's not entirely bad.

 

@seneca: Ahh that song is so good ♥ Much like Only the Lonely Survive, which I think gives a fairly good direction in regards to Violet and Dazai's relationship moving forward, not to mention that Violet's character is uncannily forgiving in regards to those she cares about (to an extent that it does cause her to push aside small things that build up into the mess you witnessed last chapter, so not totally oblivious in that regard). As for his promise, chapter 20 mentions it I believe. It was a bit far back but I Adore linking things together so you will see some details Wayyyy back return with second meanings and such. And yes Elise is a demon child
Season 3 huh? It seems so close yet so far away~ Maybe Violet will have a few apples before then c;

@cassjo: Haha yes I felt Kouyou's disappointment. She and Violet would get along fairly well I think. Better than Elise that's for sure.

@Catami: It was a bit of a roller coaster huh? Not at all reprievish but the title fit too well to deny. As for locking her up, remember she did somehow manage to escape Port Mafia under Chuuya and Elise's watch (well, within their presence), so not completely illogical considering where Dazai was going was far from safe and probably best. So twisted concern? Either way not exactly cool, but understandable to an extent. Lol yeah staying with Chuuya probably would have ended a little better (poor girl missed the chance to raid his wine collection)

@ilover: Well.... It wasn't exactly a slap but then again Violet is a mess right now. Might take a moment for her to register the action completely and give a delayed slap. Let's just say she's got a bit of a hopeless romantic streak when it comes to him.

See you all, uh, sometime in the future?

Chapter 36: Hiraeth

Summary:

Any place worthwhile leaves a trace of longing to return, nevertheless we move onwards.

Hiraeth. The longing for a home in which you cannot return to. I learned it in an English class years ago, from a mindless assignment to look up random words in a dictionary and write down their definitions. It seemed pointless, but I suppose remembering it after all this time means it held some value.

A lesson I felt I now lived as I stared out of the Agency’s window.

It was an action I’d done many times, and yet now it felt different. Like something changed. Like the home I sought to return to no longer existed, and in its place rested a building I didn’t know. It was sad and confusing. Was this because of all that happened? Shock? PTSD? Depression? I couldn’t say. Just that everything seemed to lose a shade of its vivacity.

Hopefully after this night ended it’d regain some of that luminescence.

At least whatever spontaneous role I played came to an end. No complaining there. Jumping into the fray always looked so appealing, but actually doing so? Not exactly all it’s cracked up to be. I had my time in the limelight. Time to sit on the sidelines, and I’m more than happy to oblige. I think the others picked up on that as well since they refrained from asking me to draw pictures and talk more than the casual conversation. Yet even those were a bit strained.

After what I revealed, I can hardly blame them.

Ahh… Maybe it’s best if I just drift off to sleep and slumber away the rest of this. Kinda a low move, but it was really tempting. I should stay and see things through, especially given my part in everything, and yet… Did it really matter? If what was going to result would happen regardless, did I really need to watch?

Were things even going to end in the same manner?

Geez. I did not get nearly enough sleep for this…

Without warning, the window millimeters away from my face thudded, sending me nearly off the bed. The heck was that? Did a bird just fly into the window? What are the freaking odds? Geez. Awake now. Wish I could say I was grateful for the poor-

A meow deftly cut through my thoughts. Meow? Birds don’t do that. Cats do. But what kind of cat…?

Two hazel eyes blinked back at me from the outside of the window, each complimenting the wonderful calico pattern on the feline’s fur. A cat I knew all too well.

“N-Natsume?!”

Crap. I quickly covered my mouth. Probably shouldn’t throw that name around so easily. He probably didn’t want others to know about his ability, not to mention he was a bit of a tense topic as of late. Geez. Why’d he have to show up? Didn’t he have some important behind the scenes stuff to do? Why was he even here?

A strong gust of wind blew outside, tearing at his fur and causing him to stagger a little. He was probably fine, but my heart instantly leapt to my throat at the thought of him falling off. Would he still land on his feet even though he technically wasn’t a cat? Questions I could find out by plopping him down a foot above the bed instead of three stories above the harsh pavement as I swiftly opened the window and snatched him inside.

That simple action along with closing the window took my breath away. Yeesh. All that time aboard Moby Dick and the safe house was really taking a toll on my fitness. Would have to work on that later.

Soft fur brushed against my chin, pulling me up so that the feline could settle in my lap. I barely touched him before he began purring. What’s going on? Was he happy to see me? Or maybe trying to play the act? Could this actually be a stray cat that happened to look like Natsume? That’d be my luck. Still, it was too convenient to be anyone but the guy.

“Geez…” I pouted down at him, “What is it?”

Why must you cause so much drama? Where were you like a day ago when I needed you? Why did you choose such loose cannons as prodigies? Ones who barely put up with each other at that? Devastating rivals? More like recklessly powerful enemies.

Ones that saved the city countless times and would continue to protect Yokohama.

Natsume tilted his head and opened his mouth. A soft meow sounded in the room. Right. Cat. Sheesh. Was this what it felt like to talk to me?

Well, whatever. They say that cat purring is a good stress relief, and beggars can’t be choosers. Not like there were many choices from the start. I shifted into a more comfortable position, Natsume following in kind and basking in the early afternoon sunlight and soft pets.

When were Ranpo and Yosano heading out? Were they already gone? Ahh. I said I’d sit contently on the sidelines, but these questions pervaded my mind relentlessly. Guess no matter what I still cared for them. Even after everything, I think that one thing would never change. They were mere characters, and yet despite that they were so important to me even in the real world because they gave me so much.

They granted me a reason to live and push past the dark times in my life and find the light I lost.

Dang, deep much. But I suppose it’s the truth. Authors have that power. It’s what makes them so admirable I guess. Also how their stories are so impactful.

Much like the man who stepped into the room, his presence immediately catching our attention in albeit differing ways. Natsume gave a welcoming meow. I gave a weak whimper. Yikes. Of all people to visit, I think Fukuzawa’s the last one I wanted to come into the room with me and cat-Natsume. Well, maybe Mori, but this guy’s a very very close second.

“A-Ah…” I stammered as his sharp gaze pinned Natsume, “T-This is Sensei. Dazai’s cat.”

Well, sort of. I’m pretty sure he is the feline Dazai interacted with at Lupins, which sort of makes him Dazai’s cat. But he isn’t a cat and Dazai may not have known but ironically named him that and… Ahhh. I should’ve just played dumb. A shot in the dark at this rate, but better than this clumsy excuse that probably only worsened his already strained relationship with me.

One that I think got better as he didn’t immediately skewer me. Hard to say when the guy merely blinked at me before approaching calmly. I’d have flinched back if not for Natsume purring louder. Did that mean everything was going to be okay? I mean if anyone could talk down Fukuzawa it was him. Still…

The leader reached into his sleeve. Oh gosh, was he about to draw a weapon? A hidden blade? Oh gosh. Oh gosh. Oh- Fish?

It was my turn to blink as Fukuzawa pulled out a dried sardine from within his sleeve and gave it to Natsume. I don’t know what’s weirder: the fact he keeps dried fish in his sleeves, or that Natsume easily took it like some fine dish. Did he just not care that the thing could’ve been there for who knows how long because he was a cat? Or was he that hungry?

“Violet.”

Guess I’d never know.

I tentatively looked up at Fukuzawa, lingering a little on his outstretched hand as he spoke, “Can you walk?”

Depends on where we’re going.

Natsume jumped up on my shoulder, his weight mercifully balanced between paws so as to not hit all my pressure points. He nuzzled my cheek. Was that his way of saying go along? Well, not like I had anything better to do. So long as Fukuzawa was back before all this went down, I guess it wasn’t too bad to go on a stroll…

Shifting off the bed, I staggered a little from his weight but managed to balance out thanks to Fukuzawa’s help, the man releasing my hand soon after to turn and lead the way, “Come.”

Not like I had anywhere else to go.

 

…

 

Or so I thought until this little stroll turned into a hike across town. Across? More like outside and into the mountains. Geez. If I knew we were going out for the day, I’d have chosen comfier shoes than the flats Yosano lent me. Granted, we hailed a cab and drove a decent way, but the prior and post hike was enough to leave me breathless.

Something Natsume’s weight on my shoulders steadily did not help.

Don’t get me wrong, it was cool and Disney-ish to have a cat perched on my shoulders, but the strain was taking a toll. If we didn’t stop soon I’d have to pull him off and carry him, considering I could move my arms. They were slowly growing numb. All in all not a good sign. One that worsened as we stopped in front of dilapidated building.

Where was this? Some abandoned place? You know for a bustling city like Yokohama the place had a lot of abandoned buildings. And most not with very good histories. Kinda makes standing in front of one not really reassuring. Especially considering the last time we were alone together.

Only this time we really were as I don’t think anyone in the Agency knew we even left and probably wouldn’t look given Fukuzawa. Yikes. Did I just walk to my execution?

Not surprisingly I stopped dead in my tracks, a little suddenly as Natsume gave a startled meow and dug his claws into my shoulder to keep balance. Ouch. My bad. But if this really was a final destination, then he needed to keep those claws unsheathed and hold on or jump off or something cause there’s no chance I was going to just take it. No. No way. Not after everything.

If this was the Agency’s decision, then I’d just return to the Mafia. Sure, they probably help the same end goal but at the very least they seemed willing to keep me alive a bit longer. Well, that’s the theory at least. If this is how Fukuzawa reacted, I can’t say Mori wouldn’t do the same. They were allies at one point.

Either way, I planted my feet outside the worn estate, giving the best stubborn stare I could manage at Fukuzawa. Unless he left his sword at the door, the odds of me going in there were slim to none. Sucked to be like this, but I really didn’t want to die. Does anyone? Well, beside Dazai.

Fukuzawa narrowed his eyes. Oh gosh. Ticking off the ex-assassin. Not exactly the best move, but I held my ground and pointed to the building above our heads, “I don’t like this. It is not good.”

He exhaled heavily, like that sigh your parents give when they’re frustrated but don’t want to show it but it ends up seeping out anyways. Fortunately, that’s all that it amounted to as Fukuzawa turned and walked in, speaking over his shoulder, “There is nothing to be afraid of. It is merely a house.”

Sure thing. A house miles from civilization and witnesses. Very safe.

Natsume nudged my cheek, meowing and jumping down to follow after the silver haired man. Guess he felt nothing amiss. Very reassuring if I didn’t know Fukuzawa adored cats and thus made him virtually untouchable even without the knowledge of who he is. Still…

I glanced at the woods around me. Not like I held much of a choice. For all I knew they were going to stay in there til I entered. Ahhhhh. This sucks. I swear, if they kill me I’m going to be so mad… Who even goes into some sketch abandoned house in the middle of nowhere? This is a freaking horror movie waiting to happen. Ugh. This is so stupid…

Against my better judgement I followed them inside the creepy estate, convinced that if Fukuzawa didn’t skewer me a demon would. Figures. Just my luck.

Shadows lingered in the corners. Were they always that dark? Gosh don’t tell me this place really is full of ghosts and demons. Atsushi and Dazai may not believe in them, but I certainly did. Heck, in this world of ability users? They were even more possible than the spirits in my world. Although maybe all of this was just nerves. Fear tended to do a number on the psyche. Maybe this was one of those times?

The wooden floorboards creaked under our weight, sound grating on my raw nerves yet seemingly doing nothing to the other two. Lucky. Must be nice to be oblivious to demonic presences.

Fukuzawa’s voice drifted around me. Crap, was he talking this entire time? Not like it really mattered. I didn’t understand a word. Well, not exactly true. I gathered a little of what he was talking about, and when he dropped Mori and Natsume’s names it was clear as day. He was talking about the Tripartactic. Dang. Wish I could understand. It’d be nice to learn a little more about the treaty, especially when it was about to come into play.

Made sense that he took us out to an abandoned place away from curious ears – a place that suddenly grew recognizable as we stopped in front of a hauntingly familiar windowsill.

Oh. Oh. This place. It’s not haunted. It’s a place from his past. The birth of the treaty. A place where he and Mori fought together at one point.

Phantoms of the two appeared in the dusty light, the only ghosts haunting this desolate place.

Slowly, I approached the area as if it was some sacred space. In a sense it was. This was where they once fought together. Where they’d fight and nearly kill each other in time. Yet despite that knowledge it felt special to the point the trails I left from brushing my fingertips through the dust felt nearly sacrilege.

Why did he bring me here? Wasn’t this place special to him and Mori? Guess I couldn’t really tell anyone, but even then… Did he actually trust me enough to show me this? Or did he assume I already knew since I mentioned the treaty and Natsume?

Fur brushed against my arm, bringing my attention to the feline who purred and returned to his perch on my shoulders. He didn’t seem too terribly bothered. At least one of them wasn’t. Nice that it’s the leader who could at least make them hesitate before silencing me. Yet given the fact I’m still breathing meant that perhaps Fukuzawa was not quite on the side of killing me, right?

Standing up, I met his silvery gaze evenly. Whatever he wanted to say, he could say so now. No guarantee I’d understand or be able to reply, but might as well try.

“Natsume-sensei…” I sucked in a small breath at the name. Gosh, did he know? Was all this some stupid act to say he already saw through everything? Ahh how embarrassing…

Before I could shrivel in humiliation, Fukuzawa continued, “How was he?”

Eh? I blinked. That’s it? I mean, I suppose that’s alright. It meant he didn’t know Natsume was right here and could answer that easily. Huh… Now we know, huh? I glanced at the feline on my shoulders. How was Natsume? I mean, he didn’t look terrible. Life of a cat.

“He is good,” I smiled lightly, nerves evaporating in the wake of Natsume’s purring and the gentle light returning the Fukuzawa’s eyes.

At least now I wasn’t going to die by his sword anytime soon. Hopefully we could get out of this haunted place soon before a demon stole his chance.

 

…

 

Dappled sunlight drifted in through the rafters. Dust speckled the luminescence, falling like snow in the cool estate. A building that housed a plethora of memories that danced in silvery blue eyes observing the young blonde who knelt before a patch of grass that resiliently pushed its way through the floor. Her olive eyes sparkled at the solitary flower – a testimony to nature’s endurance and vivacity even in a desolate place like this.

Fukuzawa breathed out softly, letting his eyes rest half-lidded as he spoke, “Are you satisfied with that answer?”

Silence followed, yet after a minute the shadows stirred, a pair of sharp magenta eyes juxtaposing the weary sigh of its owner, “Nothing gets past you, huh? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that hasn’t changed even after all of these years…”

The Agency’s leader exhaled through his nose as Mori stepped forward, remaining just enough in the darkness to be mistaken as the man’s shadow. One with eyes that observed the young woman with mild curiosity.

“There are still a handful of questions I would like to ask,” he hummed, keenly aware of the slight glare his old ally gave as he continued calmly, “But knowing Natsume-sensei is well will suffice for now.”

“Besides,” he turned, giving the illusion of resting against his back, “It is the least we can do considering the ordeal she has yet to face with not only the Guild’s arrogant leader, but what that knowledge will cost her. I do hope our young flower can withstand such fierce gales.”

“She has proved her ability to survive before,” Fukuzawa rebutted lightly, crossing his arms, “We would be wise to keep in mind the resilience of even delicate flowers.”

Mori smirked, letting a quiet descend on them as they observed Violet from afar – the young blonde captivated by the hopeful sight too much to even notice the third presence. Her giggles sounded like melodies in the abandoned estate, giving pure light and life to the desolate place. A miracle neither thought possible, and yet coming from her…

The two leaders let their eyes drift close, content in basking in her warm, peaceful light for a while longer – her respite speckled with happy laughter and purrs from her odd calico companion that danced around her in the luminescence.

Perhaps their presence would at last banish the ghosts haunting this place once and for all so that it may one day return to its former welcoming essence.

A house they could return to with heads held high.

Notes:

Stay in school kids, even if it drives you insane.

As for the extra, I have a proposition for you all: a smaller extra in the next chapter or a longer actual chapter later on?
The concept itself fits with future events, thus it'd be a little spoilerish if I add it as an extra in the next chapter, whereas the actual chapter detailing this wouldn't be until, eh, late summer at the pace we're going? So basically it's either get it early with some spoiler elements as to future events or wait til later and get more detail.
Choice is yours.

@seneca: Lol, well I cannot condone that persay but it does mean a lot that you enjoy the story ♥ Ahh the days of minimal sleep and no caffeine, I know them so well. Good prep for college at least
Yes, it's one of her flaws/virtues in that she doesn't take a lot of things to heart or at least tries to understand them before she makes a judgement. Haha don't worry, we are steadily approaching days where their talks get clear. As for happiness... Well, it comes eventually. Lol yes I do look forward to that particular basket of apples.
Hmmm.... I wouldn't say I have a set playlist per say. More like the theme of the chapter/arc inspires a few songs to listen to (basically if a chapter title sounds like lyrics it probably is and it's the song I mainly listened to for inspiration). If I can't find one then generally it will be something along the lines of classical music or something from Final Fantasy (they have an AMAZING soundtrack)

@ilover: Haha true true. Violet is definitely more lenient with Dazai and not in ways that are necessarily good. But she does have her reasons. Hmmm, I suppose she does have a bit of hopeless romanticism but it's more that there are other things to be concerned about in the moment - that and the past few days have left little room to examine things. Maybe when it slows down she'll realize a few things.

@cassjo: Very suspicious indeed. And not at all as it's directly up Dazai's alley. Haha I did have a friend who could pretty much pass out cold in like thirty seconds, but then she hardly slept so that probably influenced things.

@Catami: The main reason behind them locking her up was because they had no idea how she managed to escape and in that moment didn't want her to wander into a battlefield. Guess it's kinda pointless considering she escaped Mafia HQ, but the thought process was better safe than sorry, if that makes sense.
Kitten Dazai is life and I'm drowning in all the fanart of him as a cat ♥ Oh? I can fake sleep rather well, used to do it when I was younger to stay up later than my parents wanted, but I feel. There are times when its super hard to do it, especially when you're already tired.
Ahhh you are right there. She still knows a decent amount of medical stuff, just hasn't necessarily gotten the chance to explore it considering she is still in the acceptance phase of actually being in this world. Fortunately she's reaching a point where she realizes she's staying for the long-run and dedicates time to not lose that knowledge (and lucky her there is a perfect mentor right there)

Thank you all for the lovely comments and support. This unexpected break was something and it may be a while until we get back to weekly updates. Nevertheless, I will attempt to keep it at least monthly.

Hope you all have a splendid day~

Chapter 37: Toll of Bells

Summary:

The bell tolls for all just the same.

It was definitely livelier when we returned. Of course, that could be anything from the fact that we left in the middle of work hours to the noticeable reduced tension in Fukuzawa’s form. Guess he wasn’t a fan of haunted houses either, although I do recall him resting peacefully against the doorframe earlier…

Regardless, it was nice to come back to crowds of people – many of which bouncing back from the attack a lot better than I gave them credit for. Guess life goes on and they took that literally. That or they were just good at hiding it. Hopefully whatever the case they could move onwards toward a future I prayed would remain relatively peaceful. Weird how faceless characters suddenly grew important, but I suppose they were anything but that now.

Indeed, they felt just as real as everything else in this world.

Ahh… Since when did these thoughts occur? Since when did I stop referring to this place as a dream? I suppose a long enough time passed to justify it, but… If this really was another world, how was I supposed to return to mine? Should I just trust whatever existed here to bring me back in the end? Or should I struggle to achieve such myself?

Geez… I exhaled, feeling the weight of the air pass my lips. I really didn’t have time for these questions and concerns. Not like they didn’t matter. I still wanted to go back, just… I felt so involved right now. Was it right to pull away if I got the chance? I wanted to stick it out til the end, but if that meant staying here forever…

“Violet.”

Fukuzawa’s voice cut through the noise both inside my head and all around us, pulling my attention to where he stared over his shoulder – face just as unreadable as ever. Fortunately no threatening notes lingered. Good, cause Natsume decided to scamper off a while ago so couldn’t count on his protection. With any luck it wasn’t needed anymore, although going to that place was a bit jarring. Glad to see there were no additions to the ghosts haunting it today.

“Hmm?” I blinked up at him.

For a moment he just stared, and I thought I might have to tug him to the side before we annoyed the people passing us by, but he relented, speaking tersely as usual while turning around and staring forward once more, “Stay close.”

Right. Got not one but two powerful organization leaders after my head. Ahh… Do you think Mori would relent if I asked him for an internship? Guy’s got to manage at least one hospital, and if I really was going to be stuck here then might as well try to learn something and keep all those lessons going. Although Yosano was a doctor too and ten times better than learning Mori’s twisted ways, but then he had access to technology she didn’t, but then he was Mori, but she was Yosano, but….

Ahh… Maybe I could work things out. Yeah, cause flopping back and forth between them was a smart idea. Then again apparently the Agency and Port Mafia were in an, albeit tense, alliance. Maybe that would be enough? Will have to revisit that later.

As for now, best to make sure I reached that point – a possibility that greatly increased so long as I stayed by Fukuzawa’s side.

I trotted closer as we made our way through the marketplace not far from the Agency. No tension clung to the air. Guess he got over the whole Tripartactic thing. Do you think he could convince Mori to do the same? Probably best not to get that hope up. Still, thank goodness for protagonists.

We settled into a pleasant mood, one of those ones where everything kind of fades to a blur. Guess you could call it a real-life transitionary scene. It felt nice and calm, a good change of pace given the past few days. One that sadly didn’t last as a melody wormed its way in slowly yet potent in the end.

It rang through the streets, a foreign melody to this nation yet not completely so to the residents that did not so much as blink – rather glancing up minutely as if to say “Ah… so that’s the case, huh…?” before returning to whatever occupied their minds. Must be nice. I nearly made it that far. Unfortunately, the uncanny familiarity of the tune had my muscles freezing – initial surprise giving way to unwanted dread.

This melody… I heard it before, and not just because it was a church bell relaying the time of day. If only. But that would just be too easy, too normal for my life. For this day, hell, this week in general.

Because this was no church hymn. Far from it. More like a lullaby. One that ironically left me as far away from sleep as possible without inducing a panic attack. Although given how my back knotted and breathing grew difficult, it may be a little premature in dismissing the possibility.

Considering my time aboard Moby Dick, it wasn’t too farfetched. I mean, I wouldn’t call this PTSD. Far from it. My time in Port Mafia’s dungeons easily topped it and it only gave me slight chills in reminiscing. Guess it was because it was all vaguely familiar. Something Fitzgerald’s interactions with me were anything but.

Within the melody I could faintly recall his soft hums, words that never fully sank in but I’d definitely recall if I heard them. A song he made for his daughter. Surprising, right? Didn’t take him for a musical guy. Think he had someone compose it for him? Fyodor perhaps? He did play an instrument if I recalled. Still, how freaking morbid would that be? Ughh… No. Let’s just give him the benefit of the doubt. He created it by some means.

After all, when it came to Scottie and his family, Fitzgerald spared little expense or effort. Something I wasn’t entirely sure applied to me as we both knew that the strongest connection I held was the irony of the same surname and looking similar to his daughter.

Regardless, hearing that tune so close… He had to be near. Maybe in the church? I could make out the steeple between buildings. Geez… Why was he here? Why was he playing this? Obviously a beckoning. One sorely aimed my way. Geez… This isn’t good not at all. What should I do? Ignore it? Follow it? I mean, it wasn’t entirely bad considering I had Fukuzawa by me this time arou-

Oh. I glanced where the leader should have been considering he stopped at the sound. Guess he was a resident with no reason to pause at a church bell ringing. Yeah. Great. Peachy. What a time to have light feet that manage to outwit a seasoned assassin. Geez…

They say temptation always arrives on time, but at that moment it felt like it couldn’t have picked a worse moment.

I turned toward the church once more. Oooh… This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. An insane idea. Why was I giving into horror-movie logic? I shouldn’t go there. I knew what awaited and what would likely happen. He would either try to take me back or blow me away. No matter what, this spelt trouble.

And yet, if we did meet, could things change?

Likely not, and for the best considering the delicate times we were about to step into. I mean, everything that was about to occur was for the best and would lead to better things, right? So there really was no reason to respond. And yet…

The church loomed higher, details growing as I walked closer to this horrible idea. It was simple yet beautiful – white stone carved in a way reminiscent to the cathedrals in France. Guess the familiarity of it was what drew me even as the black gates surrounding it stood a final warning I pushed aside as I climbed the stairs.

I mean, we were meeting in a church. He couldn’t possibly mean to do anything here, right? Maybe that was just being optimistic or naïve that he’d hold enough of a conscience to not commit a sin in the area but even then… He had to have some moral code. Then again the lack of people here was a bit unnerving. It was a week day, but even then… Shouldn’t there be like a priest or someone?

Geez… At this rate I’m going to set the world record in times it feels like I’m walking to my execution in a day. Guess this one was my fault since I should have ignored all of this and searched for Fukuzawa but still… I needed to go here. I had to make sure that he…

The thought trailed off at the presence of two heavy-looking wooden doors – their dark, worn surface smoothed by years of hands pressing against them and the simple flowers carved into them. They were just as beautiful as ominous in the moment. Like they knew the weight residing on the other side should I open them. Maybe I should’ve taken the pitying warning, but I was too far now to turn back and reached for them.

The moment my fingertips brushed the wood, a hand descended on top of mine. Instantly I gasped and jerked back. My nerves were so shot I’m surprised I didn’t scream. Can’t say it helped much though. My stomach churned and my eyes snapped close. Whose hand was that? A member of the Guild’s? Fitzgerald’s? It wasn’t calloused but nowhere near smooth enough for the amount of lotion lingering around Moby Dick, so it couldn’t be his. Maybe one of Port Mafia? Gosh. Dodge the sword to get killed by the scalpel.

I staggered back directly into a firm chest. The scream bubbled up in my throat. This was such a stupid idea. I should’ve walked away. Gosh Violet, why’d you have to play along with horror movie logic? Why’d you leave the powerful ex-assassin and wander on your own? Ahhhhhh. Here we go again….

“That’s not a good idea, Violet-chan.”

What? I blinked, at last turning to find Dazai smiling slyly. How-? When-?

“Dazai?”

Oh gosh, did he know? How did he know? Duh, he’s Dazai. Of course he knows. Was he about to toss me over his shoulder and walk away? Can’t blame him. But what if that was the wrong move? I mean, Ranpo and Yosano’s movements this day were one thing, but I don’t think messing with Dazai and Fitzgerald would be that bad. Okay, no. That sentence in and of itself is detrimental. Still…

“I need to go…” I murmured, too ashamed to look at him while saying so. How could I? I just escaped from Fitzgerald; this was insane. I should just leave with him. It was a bad idea; I knew that.

And yet I needed to see Fitzgerald. I needed to see how he was – what state of mind he was in before he planned to decimate this city. I don’t know why, but I wanted to see him reluctant, to see some hesitance before he echoed tragedies all too real in my world and likely this one as well. The scars left by Hiroshima and Nagasaki ran deep, and many covered them in shame or denial. But I couldn’t do that. Not when the reality was so clear. My grandparents may have won the war, but the price was too high.

A price I felt Fitzgerald held no whim in paying, yet prayed he at the very least considered a path I knew would not come.

I wanted to relay my worries and concerns to Dazai so badly – to at least share them with another; to maybe get some sort of advice. But all I could do was keep my hand on the door and avert my eyes. It sucked, and I wanted to bury my head as I waited for Dazai to either let go or haul me over his shoulder and walk away.

To my surprise, neither happened as his hand snaked beneath mine, turning to intertwine our fingers smoothly as he pulled our hands back. What was he…? I glanced up at him as he shifted beside me. His smile was smaller than usual, but not scrutinizing or joking. No. It felt gentle and almost sympathetic – a weird mix given how Dazai typically was.

Did this mean he was okay with me going? Or was it another ruse to lower my guard?

“Don’t worry, Violet-chan. I will go with you,” he reassured warmly, squeezing my hand.

What? I mean, gee thanks, means a lot to my shaking legs. But was it such a good idea? I mean the two interacted later on, but not enough for me to really pick up on how things went. Not to mention at that time they were united by a common motive to beat Fyodor unlike now when they very much stood on opposite sides of this war.

Still, as company went, he was fairly high up there – especially when opposing ability users are involved. Not to mention that if anyone could see through any shady business and somehow convince Fitzgerald this was a bad idea, it’d be Dazai. Right? I mean, sure, he may just end up antagonizing him further, but, you know, gotta stay optimistic.

Okay… I squeezed his hand, drawing whatever support I could from his presence. Would need it for what, or rather who, waited beyond those doors. Doors that took all my energy to push open – and sadly not because they were heavy. My legs and arms shook. Was I nervous? Maybe a little, that or the weight of all of this was getting to me. Still, I wasn’t backing out now.

Our footsteps echoed in the vacant cathedral, its polished, bronze floors reflecting kaleidoscopic colors of the stained glass only broken by our presence. It felt familiar, yet I’d never set foot here before. Guess that was the air of a church coming into play. Indeed, with the vaulted ceiling and modest flower carvings in each pillar, it felt like sanctuary.

Only thing was, was this a haven for us or him?

Sitting casually on the steps of the altar, Fitzgerald absentmindedly hummed that familiar tune. Didn’t know if it was aweing or eerie. Maybe a mix of both as we steadily approached. With each worn pew we passed, I vaguely felt my grip on Dazai’s hand tighten. Geez… Hopefully he wouldn’t hold it against me if I ended up breaking his fingers.

“Planning on eloping with that young man?”

What? I flinched, not so much that what he implied was a pretty understandable take on our positions, but that he spoke in English. Nice to understand but kinda rude given we were the only ones here fluent in it. Or at least I gathered that much based on Dazai’s dumbfounded expression. Yikes… Is that how I look most of the time?

Fitzgerald huffed lightly, tilting his head up and gazing at the stained glass almost nostalgically, “I was never the one to go to church, but my daughter found a fascination with these places, or rather the melodies their bells would chime…”

As if on cue, the bells tolled once more – this time the sound reverberating through the entire building. My nerves were so shot at this point I tensed and shifted closer to Dazai. You’d think an earthquake hit, and I suppose to my mind this wasn’t too far off.

“Such a lovely melody indeed…” I barely caught his whisper, and kind of surprised I did with the pounding in my ears.

This really was insane. I shouldn’t have come. But it was much too late to turn back, which meant I needed to calm down. Breathe. Just breathe girl…

“What…do you want?” I asked in Japanese, firmly holding onto that silent vow. Maybe he’d take the hint and switch back. Sure, it dampened my grasp on the situation, but if it was a choice between me or Dazai, well, the answer is easy as to who should micro-analyze the conversation.

“Oh? Is it wrong for me to want to send an invitation to talk to someone who is like a daughter to me?” his satirical tone was both infuriating and relieving as he answered in Japanese that I could vaguely grasp. Thank goodness… Maybe we could get through this after all.

Dazai shifted, quickly regaining control as he smirked demeaningly, “Daughter? Well, you are certainly a terrible parent.”

The blonde leader mirrored his smirk, “I will admit I have been careless. Rest assured, I will make certain to clean up the company she surrounds herself with.”

“You sure that is the problem?”

“Oh? Do you think something else is to blame?”

Their conversation sped up from there to the point my albeit improved language skills could not keep up. At least it gave me some time to think, well apart from a growing irriation that Dazai was going along with the image of Fitzgerald being a father figure to me. How annoying. I wasn’t anything like the guy! Well, for the grand majority, but still…! If anyone was fatherly to me it was Fukuzawa, although in that case I did just ditch him right after we made amends… Yikes, need to work on that…

Still… I glanced between them, Dazai’s grip light yet firm as they continued. Was there a second meaning behind all of this? Doubt it was as complicated as his cryptic talks with Fyodor but then Fitzgerald was no fool. Maybe there was a certain depth of second meanings, but none that I grasped. Again, why it was a smart idea to let Dazai take the reins. I didn’t need to know what they were talking about. I just needed to be prepared to move should he deem it necessary.

…Wow. Dang. Did I really trust him that much? After he locked me up and kissed me? Geez… I really needed to rethink things. Maybe once we returned to the Agency, cause now seemed a little tense – especially as their words came to a stop along with time itself as they stared off.

The air felt heavy, oppressive as they locked glares. Yikes, do I even want to know what they were talking about? The entire room felt tense in juxtaposition to every feeling I’ve ever had in a church. Indeed, it was hard to believe we hadn’t teleported to somewhere more fitting of this atmosphere – like a prison or interrogation room or battle field.

Fitzgerald broke the stalemate with a wry smile, “You’re interesting, young man. Not exactly the fool you parade yourself to be, huh?”

“I could say the same for you,” Dazai shot back lightly.

The blonde chuckled, action way worse than their former banter. It sent all the wrong vibes down my spine, and for good reason as he recovered with a deep breath, levelling sharp blue eyes our way. Almost like a lion staring down two house cats who thought bristling their fur would be enough to actually intimidate it. Yet even then his voice rang clearly in the church.

“Take Violet and run.”

What? My lungs forgot their purpose.

“If you do that, then I will spare you.”

You’re joking. Spare? How can you say that when you mean to kill everyone in this city? I should’ve never come here. This was a stupid idea, one I was now completely over. Too late to turn back? Ha. As if. Ignorance is bliss and I just stomped on it. Let’s get out of-

“Oh? That’s very generous of you,” Dazai smiled softly.

Wait, what? Was he actually taking up Fitzgerald’s offer? No! That’s not what is supposed to happen! Why would he even consider it? Surely he knew Fitzgerald was a liar and villain. Did I just screw up? I came expecting for the man to target me, but overlooked the fact that he could tempt Dazai as well. Well, to be fair I didn’t think anything he offered would faze the man, but still…

Pounding in my ears deafened me to their words as I backed away from Dazai, pulling my hand from his like it was fire. No way was I allowing him to take me anywhere. I was staying. Everything would be fine. We would be fine. There’s no need to make a deal with the devil when you’re feet away from the finish line. And it was still too soon to strike an alliance with him.

“Dazai, no…!” I breathed, barely able to accomplish that much with my heart clogging my throat, “We can’t…!”

This was insane. We couldn’t just abandoned everyone and Yokohama. Not for something as shady as Fitzgerald’s deal. He had to see that. This was insane. Who’s to say he’d even keep his word? Easy. He wouldn’t. He’d stab us in the back the moment the opportunity presented itself. As backwardly touching as it was that he attempted to protect me, I absolutely refused it.

Kinda hard to be thankful when you’re threatening to kill everyone I hold dear.

Not to mention breathe when your face suddenly collides with someone’s chest and is held there by a firm hand. Dazai’s scent quickly overwhelmed me, but the embarrassment I felt that morning was a far cry to the dread suffocating me right now. Instantly I dug my nails into his chest, shoving at him as panic drove me insane – certainty in his mistake flooding my mind. Yet right as my lips opened to object further, he gave a small, firm squeeze, a silent cue for me to meet his calm gaze.

Have you ever wondered about the merits of telepathy? Personally I didn’t think much of it outside of twin theories. Blame siblings for that. Spend enough time with someone and you can tell instantly what they’re thinking without them needing to utter a sound. In that regard I suppose telepathy stood a valid thing, but then at that point it really couldn’t be called that, right?

Either way, it seemed that weird bond formed between us at some point because his entire being radiated a blaring message that rippled across my skin. Don’t worry. We are not abandoning everyone, I promise.

Really? Thank goodness… I mean, yeah, of course. Why’d I ever doubt?

A shaky exhale left my lips as I willed my iron grip to lessen and spare him the pain, Dazai showing no signs of even being bothered as he smiled and addressed Fitzgerald, “It is a nice offer, but one that we will have to reject. Sorry.”

I could tell how pleased that made him without even needing to look – see his displeased scowl and probably millions of thoughts and plans to snatch me away and make him regret those words. Please. Like I’d actually let him do that. We said no. Now just go along and scurry back to the skies. We’ll knock you down in a couple of days.

Squirming in his grip, I managed to turn enough to face Fitzgerald, still embarrassingly within Dazai’s arms yet not as helpless so I guess a halfway win. More than enough to stand my ground and declare firmly, “I will not leave. I am staying here with the Agency.”

Fitzgerald’s frown deepened, unreadable emotions flaring in his eyes too fast to discern. For a second I thought he really would try to tear me away. That’d be a very big yikes. Sure, Dazai could cancel his ability, but I doubt that applied to the inertia he already generated. Guy probably held a ton of experience in that department with Chuuya, but not really trying to have him relive all that now.

Thankfully Fitzgerald relented, instead sighing and turning toward one of the cathedral’s side entrances. Good. Just leave and let us get this over with. No hard feelings when we beat you in the end and eventually make up for a little bit if only to cream Fyodor. Perfect.

“Do as you will,” his voice cut through the silence, drawing our attention as he finished in a manner that sent my stomach plummeting, “If you will not listen to reason, then you may both burn with this city.”

Without another word or even glance back, he opened the doors and left. Don’t know what was more sobering – the banging of the doors or his dark threat. Either way it sent chills up my spine.

Ones Dazai’s frown failed to ease even as he made a goofy face and babbled on about something or another. Shame. He was probably trying to lighten the situation. But all I could feel was a sudden, impending sense of doom. I mean, we’d all be alright, right? Nothing was going to change from the story, right?

Maybe if we kept repeating that to ourselves it would come true.

Notes:

You know it's been a rough month when you post the wrong chapter. For those of you that witnessed that...sorry for your eyes. As for everyone else, well, it didn't happen.

April is a rough month. If not for a certain ginger's birthday and season three getting me through the weeks I don't know how long this chapter would've taken. Might be a bit longer til the next update just cause I like getting the next chapter lined up before posting the next one. Either way, thank goodness for May.

In regards to this chapter, Violet and Fitzgerald's relationship is coming a bit full circle. It's a bit conflicting as they both struggle to retain some form of humanity toward one another and dip into that lovely grey I adore so much about BSD. Still they're far from settling matters.

Chapter 38: Triggers

Summary:

Words break so much more than just bones

Returning to the Agency was like stepping into a dream. Don’t remember quite how we got there, just that one moment Dazai was leading me out of the church and the next Kunikida was scolding us for something or another. Guess I did kinda ditch Fukuzawa, as for Dazai… Well, there’s any number of things that the blonde could rant about. Luckily for me, Yosano spared me from the brunt of it by tugging me into her office.

That numb, groggy veil I felt since waking up returned with more force. Why? Was it from visiting that mansion? From the rollercoaster ride of emotions since returning here? Or maybe the fact that despite my optimism Fitzgerald’s mindset was far from reassuring? Guess I was hoping too much. He wanted to save his family that badly, I suppose nothing else really mattered. Still…

I wanted to see some remorse. Something that felt very foolish now. This wasn’t some fairy tale. As insane as it all was in the beginning, that fact only reinforced itself with each second. Oh, how I wish it was though…

“Violet?”

The cool touch of Yosano’s fingers around my fist pulled me back to the present. Fist? Since when…?

Abruptly a pressure landed on my head, not enough to cause damage but sufficient in startling me. What? Instinctually I held the spot, surprised to find Yosano frowning down at me. Surprised? Like there was anyone else in the room to do such. And yet the shock failed to fade even as she gave a heavy sigh and spoke.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. You are not alone, you know.”

“Huh?”

A soft smile graced her features as she pulled back and murmured, “If there is a way to save him, I am sure Dazai will figure it out.”

What? In spite of myself, I stiffened. Save him? Fitzgerald? Did she think that I was upset that he might get hurt or die? Did they all assume that? Not too bad on my character, albeit a bit naïve, but even then I didn’t need that reassurance. I knew Fitzgerald would make it out alive. And yet…

Cool relief settled on my skin as I smiled faintly, “Yeah…”

She returned the expression briefly before stepping around and reaching for my shirt. Gently, she lifted the fabric and checked on my wound, delicate and precise in peeling the bandages off so that little to no pain sparked along my skin. Such tenderness… It was kind of hard to marry the sensation with her sadistic treatment of the others. Guess having to cut someone open to save them takes a toll on the mind, but I’m glad she got to have moments like this as well.

Letting her soothing application of antibiotics warm my back, my thoughts expanded to her words and their implications. Everyone in the Agency was kind. Far too kind. To change plans and save the enemy – the enemy leader at that – simply because they though I cared for him… Did I care for him? My time aboard Moby Dick wasn’t totally miserable. And I did get to glimpse into his past… Not to mention I knew his future… Maybe I really did want him to be saved. Still, for all of them to go to such lengths…

They all cared for me. And even though I could not forgive them for the previous night, that fact shone through. Maybe one day I could forget, but for now the thought of not being alone was nice and warm and I didn’t want it to go. I didn’t want to leave this place. I wanted to stay here with these reckless people who gave so much for a person like me.

“Everyone is too nice…” I murmured, weaving and unweaving my fingers as my cheeks warmed self-consciously at the next part, “You are all like angels, Yosano especially...”

Stinging pain shot up my spine, pulling a yelp from my lips as I instinctually pulled away. What? Tentatively I glanced back at the doctor. She was so careful before; did she accidentally forget? Why? Something doesn’t feel good…

And the feeling only grew at the near mortified glaze covering her expression as she stared at me as if I was a ghost. Or maybe it was the other way around.

“Y-Yosano…?” I prompted gingerly, not sure what she would do. At least if she suddenly lost her mind and attacked she could heal me up again. But then that would lead to endless torture, right? Ahh… What even prompted this to begin with? Did I say something wrong? Did I mispronounce a word? Talk about backfire.

“What did you…?” she spoke hauntingly low, not inspiring any confidence whatsoever.

Crap. Did she lose it? How? Why? What prompted this change? Could it be… Oh gosh… I shifted away from her. Was it an ability? One that controlled others’ minds? Was that even possible? Pft. Please. Like that’s actually a question.

Regardless, staying alone with her suddenly didn’t feel so good, yet before I could spill the name rising in my throat, her expression reverted back. Well, almost. A slight strain remained as she gave a half-hearted smile, “Ah, sorry Violet.”

“Huh?” What was going on? What’s with the mood changes? Could it-? Oh. Crap…

Did I say something that triggered her?

Of all the times for those psychology lessons to pop up, now was probably the most scathing. Trigger words. Simple phrases or gestures that are otherwise normal except for those who related it to a traumatic experience. Something I said must’ve connected. But what? Was it even just a word? Trauma is a tangled subject matter with no clear answers. It was literally like tip-toeing on fractured ice. Only question now was: had Yosano’s broken?

Furthermore, what in the world went through her mind? Did I even want to know?

Yosano murmured something a little too lightly, like she was forcing herself to get through this. Indeed, her gentle touches failed to conceal a subtly harsher pressure as she finished cleaning and wrapping my back. Everything felt like a haze enveloped us. Was she really okay? Should I apologize? Would that make things worse? Should I call someone in? Would that make things worse? My mind was too frazzled to tell, and by the time it settled she was pulling away.

Briskly, she walked out the door in an overwhelmingly not good fashion, my calls falling on deaf ears as I shifted off the cot, “Ah! Yosano, wait…!”

The door clicked shut with as much forlorn and force as my buckling knees that hit the ground. Pain shot up my legs, tugging tears into my eyes. Where did this weakness come from? A prevailing numbness pulsed from every inch of my skin. Did she give me an anesthetic? When? And why was it just now kicking in?

Nothing made sense. What was happening? Why couldn’t I move? What did I say? What happened to Yosano? Was she okay? Obviously not. Not since I said something wrong… Why? Why couldn’t I see that? I should’ve known. I should’ve tried harder – said sorry or, or…something. Why? Why did this happen? Why did I bring her so much pain? Why couldn’t I help her or any of them?

Why was I so utterly helpless?

Stinging met my eyes, the first indication that tears streaked down my cheeks. I was…crying? Why? Because of Yosano or my own inability? I didn’t know. Only that my heart hurt. Despite the numbness and weakness, tremors shook my entire form. I didn’t have the energy to rise back up, let alone wipe away the tears, leaving me to do the only thing I could. The one weak, pathetic thing I could in the moment.

Covering my face, I cried into my palms, not knowing why or how to stop this overwhelming feeling of helplessness. Would it ever change? How? When? Would it even matter past this point?

Nothing made sense, and like most of my time here I held not even the faintest idea of what to do.

 

…

 

Some time passed before I was able to lug myself back onto the cot, an action that sapped all my minimal energy. Yosano didn’t come back. Can’t say if that makes me concerned or just… I don’t know. A wall of nothingness enveloped me. Exhaustion and a fierce disassociation made everything murky. Weariness clawed at my eyes I somehow kept open.

Why did I feel so weak? This was worse than when I first woke up in that safe house. Did I use up all my energy going to that mansion and then confronting Fitzgerald. Sad considering all I lived through thus far. Maybe my body was finally telling me to rest – throwing a debilitating tantrum in the process. Fine. Hear you loud and clear. Getting rest. Not going off anywhere.

Well, except the bathroom. Girl’s gotta pee. Hopefully my body wasn’t too stuck up to keep me from using a toilet.

Thankfully, despite some shakiness, I managed to stumble across the room and down the hall with only a few curious glances. Come to think of it, the place was fairly vacant. Were the other secretaries still in hiding? Was I going to join up with them? As nice as the idea was, it felt a bit pointless. I mean, we were mere seconds from the finish line. Then again given the past few days anything could happen.

How terrifying was that?

But I could worry about it later after my bladder stopped protesting and I got something in my stomach. It felt like forever since the meager breakfast I shared with Dazai this morning. This morning? Geez. All this happened in one day? It’s a wonder I’m still alive.

Slipping into the bathroom, I made to finish as quickly as possible since there’s no telling whether or not my legs would last. That and I didn’t want Yosano to freak out if she came back to find me gone. Don’t know why she’d return after being gone for over an hour, but it would fit my luck perfectly. I don’t know. It was an odd feeling, much like how I turned and glanced at the toilet.

It was a whim, one I didn’t think much of until coming face to face with…something. Or, er, face to glob with darker patches that could be eyes. All in all: what the hell? My mind blanked and anywhere between a few seconds and couple minutes passed in silence.

I swear, whatever it was stared back, more than enough to prompt me into doing what anyone would in the same situation.

I flushed the toilet.

Lord. Am I hallucinating now? Blobs in the toilet? Maybe my body really did hate me. Still, wetting the bed was not exactly something I wanted to bring back from my younger years. At least the wonders of modern life would clear things up.

Or so I thought until the blob returned, this time scooting up the rim of the toilet.

And if that wasn’t mortifying enough, it talked.

“Please do not do that again.”

Uh… What?!

I flushed the toilet again, mind defaulting to banishing the growingly more disturbing image. A talking blob in the toilet. Maybe I really was losing it. That or the Agency really needed to check its plumbing. Either way I think I can hold my bladder a bit longer. Yeah. No worries. Easy peas-

Without warning something cold and slimy latched onto my wrist. Ew doesn’t begin to describe it. Have you ever had a leech on your skin? Trust me, it’s not fun. About as much as this was, minus the bloodsucking. Well, as far as I knew. Can’t say the fact it came from the sewers was much better.

“A-Ah!” I gasped, falling back in the process, “Get off-!”

“Wait! Don’t yell!”

What? Why wouldn’t I? That’s like asking a bird not to fly. What the heck did it expect me to do- Wait. Oh God. Did I just-? Did this thing just speak? More alarming was the fact I understood it.

Whether it was horror or disbelief, I obliged to the weird goop on my arm, too shocked to fling it off as it slithered into a better position, its black eyes every bit as unsettling as you can imagine. I could swear I heard it sigh in relief. What the hell? What was happening? All I wanted to do was pee. Was this a hallucination? Please, like it could actually be just that.

“Please… I would like to speak with you. You can hear me, right? You did before, back at that lodge.”

Lodge? What the heck was this thing-? Wait. Oh gosh… I felt the blood drain from my face. How was this possible? And yet now that I think about it the voice was familiar. Unfortunately I didn’t know if it was a good familiar or not, shock making me dizzy in juxtaposition to my racing heart as I gasped out.

“Lovecraft…?”

Notes:

So this was a bit of a rollercoaster of a chapter that will ideally lead to tying up a few loose ends and offering more questions for the future. Next couple chapters will probably wrap up the arc and pave the way for the next segment of the tale which, in all honesty, is hardly light in the least sense of the word so will try to add some fluff before then or write a couple of extras to take the load off.

@seneca: Haha yes it was a bit unexpected much like this chapter huh? Looking back it does seem odd but very much expected with Violet's bad luck. Yeah, Fitz's relationship with Violet and vice versa is very odd and they're both kinda just stumbling through it but I think in the end they both realize they simply don't want the other to get hurt/die despite the way they departed. Lol think it was more Fitz recognizing Dazai's whit and ability to protect Violet (and how she trusted him) that lead him to approving him of taking her away more than anything.

@ilover: True, true, and Violet will have a lot of practice with how reckless they all can be. In terms of memory of the series, Violet remembers quite a lot up until the point where Dazai and Fyodor are in prison together (so like up until chapter 65ish?). Therefore any events after that she is vaguely aware or completely unaware of (aka the details Yosano and Mori's relationship, Tachihara, as well as some of the events in Fifteen - although she's heard rumors so she is aware of a little but not completely certain - and all of Dead Apple are completely new to her, which will play a role in the upcoming arcs). However, her 'ability' as you may have notice is capable of filling in those gaps for better or worse.

@cassjo: Yay thank you! And yeah she definitely comes more to terms with that downfall in the next arc. As for Dazai creeping around, I mainly had it as him keeping an eye on her since he was aware of Fitzgerald's presence and was one of the ones who heard the different melody and immediately noticed. Always did find that he held more foresight into things than most in the series. Lol but definitely leaning more towards the 'because he could' side of things.

Thank you all for the kind words and support ♥ Until next time~

Chapter 39: The Uninvited

Summary:

Spontaneity brings excitement to life.

Notes:

Warning: some spoilers if you haven't seen S3

So let me get this straight… You survived probably one of the most deadly abilities by pure happenstance and the first thing you do is crawl up the enemy’s sewer line in a longshot hope that you’d run into the person they theoretically would keep as far away from you as possible? Exactly which part of this makes any vague sense?

“Well when you put it like that I suppose it seems a bit strange… Still, could you explain why we are so far apart?”

You know, you never realize how annoying mind readers are until you encounter one. Although in this case I can’t say if it was annoyance, disturbance, or something else that crawled against my skin. After all, Lovecraft wasn’t the only one, er, reading minds. Apparently I also read his mind? How? And why just him? Ugh… I should’ve tried flushing him down harder.

“If it’s any consolation, I am grateful you chose mercy.”

“Shut up…!” I hissed before I could stop myself, glaring at Lovecraft, or rather the fragment left of him confined in one of Yosano’s jars sitting on the other side of the cot.

Just let me think for a second and try to get this straight. I mean, why go through all this effort to talk to me? What good came of it? Hardly any if you ask me. Indeed, the only thing I felt was regret. That and more questions. Like how on earth he managed to survive Corruption in the first place.

“If you truly must know, I merely wished to confirm something important enough to warrant the risk. As for the second…” the blob that was the ability user shifted as if in thought, “A stroke of luck or… Hmm… Perhaps a cleverly foreseen plan by the Nullifier when he stopped Arahabaki from completely destroying me.”

Nullifier? Arahabaki? The former obviously was Dazai, as for the latter… Did he mean Chuuya? But why call him Ara…Arahabaki? Hmm… That name sounded oddly familiar. Why? Where’d I hear it from? Did it have something to do with Chuuya’s past? Did that mean Fifteen detailed it? But it had yet to come out in my world. So how did I recognize it albeit vaguely? What did that name even imply?

What did it mean for Chuuya? And did that mean he was the same as us – that he could telepathically communicate?

“No. Not necessarily at least,” Lovecraft clarified, “Arahabaki was not in its true form – perhaps to protect its vessel by taking the form of an ability. However the ‘gifts’ that we were given are similar but ultimately not abilities, thus we stand immune to the Nullifier’s touch. This link dually serves as a connection that allows for communication between those of similar gifts, hence why we are able to communicate beyond the use of words.”

Dang, kind of a lot to spill all at once. So these visions weren’t an ability? Then what exactly were they? What exactly were we? And what about Arahabaki’s protecting its vessel? Did that mean it could willingly kill Chuuya? What exactly was their relationship? Did Chuuya know?

“That…is probably something best to ask the vessel himself, right?” he answered rather hesitantly, “Although that may be best to do once your contract is resolved and you hold more freedom of movement.”

Contract?

The blob tilted its head in what could be called a cute manner if I wasn’t scarred just a few minutes ago, his words not helping in the least, “Oh? I assumed that was the purpose behind Fitzgerald taking you. Did he not enter into a contract with you then?”

What-? Of course not. The only agreement we had was to not throw each other off the blimp – and we all know how that ended. Nothing formal occurred whatsoever. What did he even mean by contract? Like the one he had? Were they like normal ones? Or something else?

More importantly – did his change because of Fitzgerald? Was that why he came here? Was he trying to take me away? Did he lie earlier when he said we could all burn with Yokohama? Geez, don’t know if I should feel relieved or disgusted…

“Rest assured, I did not come to take you to that man. Our contract is nearing its end rather quickly. Be that as it may, I cannot say that I disagree with his intentions to move you away from this place. Surely you are aware of the impending destruction that awaits.”

Well, yeah, but I also knew that it wasn’t going to happen. At least not for a while longer.

“Oh? Is that the faith of the Prophet?” Lovecraft questioned, a hint of reverence in his tone.

Prophet? Was that what my title was? Glad it wasn’t some weird monster name. Thank goodness. Either way, whatever the case I knew how things would end. Well, how they should end at the very least. Can’t say the past few days inspired much confidence in the matter.

Maybe Lovecraft was correct. Maybe it was best to flee. Still…

I wouldn’t abandon the Agency or Mafia to die. I would stay with them even if he tried to drag me away.

“You truly do care for them, huh…?” he spoke almost wistfully, “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to take you away against your will. Even if I desired to, the injuries I sustained from Arahabaki would prevent me from doing much worthwhile.”

So he wasn’t completely okay. Makes sense. Corruption took a brutal toll on both its enemies and user. Was that because Chuuya was technically a vessel? Did that mean he and Arahabaki could be separated? Would his ability go along with it? How did they even come together in the first place? What would happen to Chuuya if they were separated?

An urge to return to the Mafia built if only to settle the curiosity making a mess of my thoughts.

“Best not to worry about events yet to come. Although if it helps any, the likelihood of Arahabaki disappearing is unlikely. In fact, it is more probable that the personality you speak of fades. In that scenario it is likely that Arahabaki would truly become like us.”

What? I bristled on instinct. Chuuya disappearing? Hardly. That wasn’t possible. Not in a million years.

“We shall see…” he responded ominously, “Time has a way of eroding even the most vivacious of personalities, as you yourself must be aware. At least in theory, that is.”

Tension climbed my spine. What did he…?

Before the thought could finish, the door to the infirmary burst open. I nearly jumped out of my skin, somehow managing to snatch Lovecraft’s jar and shove it under a pillow as Kenji trotted up to the cot sunnily. Faintly I registered Lovecraft’s startled yelp beneath the pounding of my heart.

Did they see him?

“Hello Violet-chan! Are you hungry? We’ve come to take you to get some lunch,” Kenji beamed happily, Tanizaki smiling from the doorway.

“Ahh, hello Kenji, Tanizaki…” I weakly replied, somewhat thankful that they took it as a sign that I was still a bit weary from everything than the fact I had a blob of something that very much tried to kill Dazai and Chuuya only a couple days ago in a jar under my pillow.

“Some fresh air may help,” Tanizaki suggested as Kenji gently offered a hand and pulled me to my feet that trembled a little from nerves. Did they really not notice? Should I just count my blessings that they came and not Ranpo or Dazai?

Oohhh please for the love of everything do not move. I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible.

Casting a final glance at my cot and praying Lovecraft heard, I followed the two agents out of the infirmary to whatever place they had in mind for lunch.

 

…

 

Turns out it was the café downstairs. No complaints there. A walk around town sounded a bit daunting. Not to mention my uninvited guest upstairs. Probably best not to go too far. Besides, this place served amazing tea and food – hence why the Agency came here so often. Convenience and great food, what better combination could you ask for?

Apparently not much. Between the blissful atmosphere and Tanizaki and Kenji’s smiles and pleasant conversations simple enough for me to grasp and take part in, things really were looking up. I’d come a long way since stumbling into their office, and while frustrating that I wasn’t fully up to speed yet, progress was nice. Everything about this lunch was nice, almost enough to take my mind off everything and just bask in the moment.

Only for it to all come crashing down the moment we stepped foot in the Agency once more.

A loud crash broke through the silence, causing all of us to jump. Well, all of us except my plummeting stomach. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. That had to be Lovecraft. I held no proof other than dreading certainty but it was definitely him and if they realized I hid him they’d flip and think that I was helping him and thus the Guild and oh God…

“What was that?!” Tanizaki bristled, followed quickly by Kenji leaping into action, “That sounded like it came from Yosano-sensei’s office!”

Acting on instinct, they swiftly approached the infirmary – my heart departing with them as I weakly gasped out, “W-Wait!”

They didn’t listen. No surprise. Ahhhh...! What am I going to do? In t-minus ten seconds they’re going to flip! What can I even say to remedy things? Would they even recognize Lovecraft? Oh please, please let fortune finally give me a glimmer of light. Please…!

I darted after them, heart pounding louder and louder as we approached. Oh gosh. Oh gosh… My stomach twisted and I felt close to puking. Here we go… I resisted the urge to close my eyes and curl up in a corner and just disappear, instead reaching out to grab Tanizaki’s arm as he rounded the corner.

“Tanizaki wai-!”

My plea cut short as he came to an abrupt stop, forcing me to dig my heels in and not collide with him. What? What happened? Why’d he stop feet away from Yosano’s office? Crap… Did Lovecraft make it out of the room? The jerk! I told him to stay put! Was that really so hard? Did he lose patience? Geez. Of all times…

Bracing for the inevitable, I was surprised to find it never came as the two blinked down at the frankly startling source despite my expectations: a raccoon innocently staring up at us from among the pile of books it knocked over like some cat. Guess it was fairly feline-like. Still. What? How the heck did it even get in here? Were raccoons even native to Japan?

Maybe. But I don’t think that is why this particular creature stumbled its way into the Agency. No. That likely had to do with the envelope in its mouth. Something that quickly clarified things in a frankly weird way.

Kenji, ever the animal whisperer, lowered himself so as to take the item from the raccoon. Brave. For all he knew the thing had rabies. Guess he was fortunate considering such wasn’t the case. At least I hope not or I needed to warn Poe asap. Then again, don’t think he’d abandon it so quickly… What was its name again? Luke? Karmen? No… Not that…

“Hmm, what is that?” Tanizaki murmured, the blonde responding just as mystified, “It’s a letter addressed to Ranpo-san.”

Yep. A calling card from his biggest fan boy. Which meant this story was moving along. Fantastic. What a heart attack for nothing… Geez. I sighed, walking away from their stupor. They could take it from here. As for me, I should probably get back before Lovecraft actually gets impatient and goes for a jail break. Hopefully he’d take the bread I sneaked out as a concession. Don’t really know how he will eat it, but hey, A for effort.

Or so I thought until reaching my cot only to find sharp shards of glass glinting in the sunlight – remnants of the jar I stuck him in. A jar now dreadfully empty.

Welcome back dread. Can’t say I missed you.

“Shit…!” I cursed under my breath, quickly dropping the peace offering to frantically examine the shards and area around them. What the hell? Why’d he move? I told him not to! Sure, he wasn’t stupid enough to show himself to the others but the fact he now roamed around secretly was hardly better.

If anything it only shot my anxiety levels through the roof.

Evidently something I shared with another whose sharp hiss cut through my pounding heart, “Violet! What are you doing? Get away from there!”

Before I had time to react, a hand latched onto my wrist in a vice grip and deftly tore me back. A yelp escaped from my throat as the action caused a piece of glass to cut my finger – pain distant in the sheer concern flaring in Yosano’s magenta eyes that suddenly appeared inches away from mine.

“Yo-Yosano…?!” I stammered. Oh gosh, was she still on edge from earlier? Was she peeved her jar broke? Was it important? Geez. I would pick the one jar she held sentimental attachment to.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she scolded harshly, either not caring or completely overlooking my distress as she practically seethed, “That’s dangerous, understand? Dangerous – not good.”

Geez. I curled in on myself for whatever flimsy protection that did. Of course I knew. Honestly I had it all under control until you grabbed me. So in reality I was perfectly fine and you are just over reacting. Words I wish I could say but fell short in the wake of her livid expression.

Something that somehow spoke volumes not on how much she was upset with me but rather how much she cared for me. A weird trait that thankfully subsided as Yosano must’ve seen how alarmed I looked and at last took a leveling breath and calmed down.

Within the silence, I found it only natural to speak up, addressing both the current and previous situation with a timidity I refused to let me stay quiet, “S-Sorry…”

Whether she understood I meant it for her panic attack earlier or not, I’d have to wait til later to find out as she sighed, “It’s alright. Just be more careful, okay?”

I nodded, letting her guide me to an adjacent cot while she cleaned up the mess and bandaged my finger. The entire time my heart pounded, stomach leaping into my throat with each flinch she made. Did she find Lovecraft? Did she figure it out? The suspense was killing me, enough to apparently make me look ill as she frowned, voice pulling me from staring into the black beneath my cot where I was convinced Lovecraft lingered even though she thoroughly checked the area for any shards of glass.

“Get some rest, okay?” she gently pushed me down onto the bed, a small smile gracing her features at long last as she explained, “I’m heading out for a bit with Ranpo-san. When we get back I’ll bring you back to my place, alright?”

Going out? Ahh, right. Poe. Well at least I had little to worry about in that regard. Wish I could say the same about my evening. While on one hand it would be nice to not be awake all night wondering where the slimy glob of a former enemy now weird quasi-monster frienemy thing was, the fact that he could be lurking in the Agency rubbed the wrong way… Eh, who am I kidding? The guy probably jumped back down the toilet drain. Sure, I had about a billion questions to ask him, but at the very least I could rest somewhat assured that he didn’t opt to take me with him.

Sitting among the grime of Port Mafia’s dungeons was one thing, but I’d rather not figure out if Yokohama’s sewer system was any better or worse.

Notes:

Made it with thirty minutes to spare~ I'd say that's a freaking achievement and probably not the wisest choice as I am currently drowning in essays. Masters is a piece of cake but kills you in all the writing assignments. Never thought I'd consider 20 pages a "small" amount until this point.

@Catami: Lol that would be interesting. I can see it now: the adventures of Violet and her slime creature friend Lovecraft. You think so? Personally my reaction to Tachihara was along the lines of "I FREAKING KNEW IT" since it was sketch to me that he was barely addressed even though being a part of the Black Lizards and a little more major than a background character. Instincts be on point. As for Violet's knowledge, I believe I addressed it in the end notes of the previous chapter? But I'll refresh things. She remembers up until Yosano's memories, so like chapter 64 I think? As for everything past that, including Fifteen and Dead Apple, she holds some theories but is otherwise unaware of events.

@ilover: Right? And gosh, so sorry for any spoilerish information. Will try to warn better as we get closer to where the series is now. Haha well, Lovecraft was somewhat explained, I guess. Honestly I kind of forgot about him until realizing the arc was coming to an end and reading over previous chapters only to find the one with him and go "Oh crap that's right you exist". Nevertheless his presence, while genuinely confusing, plays an important role in the fic as it addresses things beyond abilities like Violet's "visions".

@cassjo: Right? The feels for her are real. And anytime ♥

@seneca: True, and I really want to see her interaction with Dazai, especially when they first met and the fact that Mori said he was like him. Wonder if she caught on instantly or, after finding out, treated him differently. Would kill my heart cause I love them both but be completely understandable and ahhh I need. Lol yes, the fluff will come. Eventually.

Okay kiddos, the arc is finally wrapping up in the next chapter. May add another one when I get the chance to work on it. Hopefully this summer course won't be the death of me.

Until next time~

Chapter 40: Life for a Life

Summary:

Each action impacts the path toward the future.

“Good luck.”

Early afternoon light cast a blue-grey glow onto the city – sunlight slowly making its way over and around towering skyscrapers and hills to reach the depths of Yokohama. Peace and quiet abounded. Hard to believe it was so fragile. Indeed, one misstep, and this could be the last dawn of the city. Not that I doubted them, only that I was worried.

Foreknowledge is great and all, but it falls painfully short in terms of reassurance – especially in times like these.

Tanizaki and Atsushi nodded, their gazes full of the confidence I wish I had. How could they be so certain? They didn’t know what awaited them – the trials they’d face. And yet they went forward so bravely. Could I do the same? If I didn’t know the future, could I possess that hope?

Or maybe the real question was: since I possessed this knowledge, was it not my duty to warn them of the very real dangers ahead of them? Would that truly help them? Or make things worse? What should I do? What could I do? I wanted to help them – I wanted to help Atsushi and the Agency. I wanted to be of some use more than just a hostage or playing piece or whatever I was. I wanted to help them.

But I also did not want Fitzgerald or the Guild to receive a blow in which it cannot recover – one that would prevent them from helping us in the future when we really needed it.

All of this was maddening beyond belief, and I think it showed as, when our gazes met, Dazai shot a sympathetic smile. Don’t worry, everything will be alright. I promise. His voice resonated silently – one of those weird mental communication things so common with twins or siblings or close friends. Did that mean we were close? I suppose we did kiss… Ah… I felt my cheeks warm considerably.

Without much thought, I stepped past the bandaged man and wrapped my arms around Atsushi, somewhat startling the teen as I murmured, “Please be careful.”

I felt his initial shock melt into warm compassion as he gave a light squeeze, “I will. Thank you, Violet-san.”

We stayed like that for a moment, both realizing just what he was getting himself into. I wonder, if I stayed aboard Moby Dick, would this be different for them? Would their plan change? How? Was it actually good that I got out when I did? Who knows? Guess I should be thankful that it was all coming to an end. Ideally this would prove to be a good trial run for when things really turned south.

A gentle hand rested on my shoulder, a kind beckoning as Yosano murmured beside me, “Come on, Violet. It’s time.”

Pulling away felt hard, not necessarily impossible. More like saying goodbye to someone who you knew wouldn’t return in weeks. Kinda embarrassing given they’d be back before midnight, but still… I couldn’t help the building worry as Atsushi pulled away and joined the others – Dazai giving a lighthearted wave as Tanizaki promised to see us again later.

The door closed. Not heavily not lightly, just normally. But I couldn’t stop myself from staring at it – hoping that time would just pass by in a second like some scene skip. Unfortunately this appeared to be one of those moments that lasts forever. At least Yosano and Kenji were kind enough to pack a humble bag for me and guide me out.

Thankfully this wouldn’t be something I’d have to wait on alone.

 

…

 

How long do you think it’d take to go blind from staring at the sun?

Spots began forming in the corners of my vision and I think my eyes grew so accustomed to the light that the inside of this apartment looked pitch black even though it was still daytime. Shame time couldn’t just pass in the blink of an eye. I mean, maybe that was for the best so we could savor it while it lasted, but in times like these where all you could do was just wait, it sucked and really just dragged on. And unfortunately, boredom was far from our minds. No. A much weightier topic filled that space.

A sigh left my lips, impressive given how tense the atmosphere was even from my corner of the room. Heck, even Kenji was stressed – and that’s when you know something serious is going on when the resident sunshine isn’t glowing like usual. Guess we were all concerned about Atsushi and the success of the mission. Why not? The fate of Yokohama very much rested in his hands, something I held somewhat of a luxury in knowing it would live to see the next day. Something I’m sure the others would love to be certain of as they sat in silence. Geez… How many believed this could actually be their last day alive? Guessing not many since they stayed put, but even then… Guess that just goes to show how much faith they had in this insane plan.

Wish they could lend me some of it.

Goodness, how terrible does that sound? Not that I doubted Dazai’s plan or Atsushi’s skill, just… I don’t know. Last minute nerves I guess.

Still, when was this supposed to end? At this rate it’d be nighttime, and I’m fairly certain that wasn’t the case in cannon. Well, hopefully not. I mean, Kyouka’s party was at nighttime, so maybe it wasn’t that farfetched? Ahh, so long as we reach that point I think everyone will be A-Okay. Until then we’d just have to figure out a way to not go insane from the stress.

Something that grew increasingly harder as the minutes turned to hours and the sun kissed the horizon in a wholly unsettling way. Yeah, this is by far not good. Oooh… Where’s the whale? What’s happening? Ahh, I should’ve snuck my way aboard like Akutagawa. Something definitely happened and now everything-!

Ahh… This cannot spell anything good…

“Violet-chan?”

Kenji blinked innocently, or at least a little bit as notes of concern darkened the edges of his gaze. Right, not the only one worrying to death. Geez… Just breathe girl, breathe… Everything will be alright.

“Ahh, don’t worry. Everything is alright.” Yeah, if only I could physically express that. Fortunately the box of food in his hands presented an excellent distraction. Suppose it was well past the time to eat dinner.

Noting my attention on the box, the blonde smiled before handing it to me. Thank goodness, at least now-

Something a bit heavy but warm descended on my head, surprise melting to realization as Kenji petted my hair gently with a kind smile, “Do not worry, Violet-chan. They will be okay. Until they return, let’s believe in them together, okay?”

My cheeks warmed. Geez, I should be the one saying that, not him. So much for reassuring everyone. Seems like our roles were always reversed. Maybe one day that’d change.

“Yeah… Thank you,” I weakly smiled back, earning a final pet from the kid before he rejoined the others across the room.

Should I go with them? If this was going to last a while longer then best to wait together right? Strength in numbers and all that. Besides, eating with others always had that weird effect of making the food taste better. At the very least it would help calm all of our nerves.

Or at least attempt to as the world threw a wrench in that notion by summoning a blinding flash of lightning that illuminated the room. Where’d this storm come from? Well, regardless it at least meant this entire thing was in its end phase. Gotta love typical anime drama creating a storm out of thin air to add to the boss battle feels. Nevertheless, by the way rain pelted the window and reduced visibility to virtually zero, Indeed, from the murmurs behind me the others felt the same unease rising in my chest.

One that only grew as my eyes focused in on a figure standing below. Who the heck-? Wait. Was that Grey? Why was he just standing there? Then again he was a spirit, or at least I think he was. Was he? Ugh. Whatever the case he at least got the creepy part down. I mean, who just stares up into someone’s place in the middle of a freaking tempest?

“The crucible draws near. What is your choice? Where does your resolve stand?”

His voice rang clearly – eerily, just like Lovecraft’s. Did that mean he was like us? Something not entirely human? Or maybe someone like me – someone who didn’t belong here? But how? Where did he come from? What did he know? Did the fact that we were alike reassure me or make things that much worse? What was he really after? Weird how these questions pop up at the worst of times.

Grey narrowed his eyes, “Was that vow before mere words echoing in the abyss?”

No. But what do you expect me to do? I was miles away from Moby Dick, and even if I set out now, which would be a freaking challenge in and of itself to get past everyone and travel through a freaking hurricane, by the time I somehow made it there everything would probably be done and over with. So yeah, what exactly does he expect me to do? Teleport?

“Do you truly believe that? Will your resolve withstand the fires of trials and challenges?”

Well, not like I expected everything to be a walk in the park. I wasn’t too confident in my ability to help but it certainly beat sitting still and constantly being saved. Indeed, I cast a glance back at the others. If I could be of some help to them, if I could protect them in the events to come, then maybe it was okay for me to be here…

“Such a noble purpose… I should not be surprised…”

What? I jumped, nearly dropping my food as he suddenly stood right beside me. How the-?

“Allow me to aid you in your resolve,” he offered a hand, smile gentle and inviting yet wholly unsettling. Like that of a killer about to abduct an unwitting child.

Something in my expression must’ve given away my skepticism as Grey added lightly, “Do not worry. I do not wish for any harm to come to you. Rather it is my wish that you find happiness in this world and, perhaps, that which you were unable to secure in your own.”

Wait, what? He knew about my world? Did that mean he knew how I could return?

“Everything will be made clear in time. As for now,” he reached closer, “Take my hand. I will help you move forward.”

It was like the snake in Eden, the way his voice drew me in. And yet despite knowing that and how this was not entirely unsuspicious, I found my hand reaching for his. If it meant I could take another step forward, if I could really help them… Then there really was no question about it, right?

With only my entire being screaming at me that this was a bad idea, I took Grey’s hand.

Instantly the room and everything else vanished, turning into a sick twist on what clothes must feel like in a washing machine. By pure instinct I held tight to my dinner. Yeah, I know, not exactly the brightest reaction but hey at least if I survived this I wouldn’t starve to death immediately. Please. Like that was a concern as whatever meager contents rested in my stomach began pushing its way out. Right. Almost forgot the last time. At least when it ended I might be able to find some control and stop myself from puking.

Please. As if that could actually happen as the darkness receded, leaving behind the tumultuous rocking – something that proved only to be expected as I found myself in a less than reassuring boat tossed about a rough sea. Boat? Please. This thing was a dingy. One doomed to succumb to the monstrous waves at any second now.

“Ahh!” I yelped, dropping my dinner into the waters. At least some fish was going to have a lucky break. Maybe karma would help me achieve the same as I staggered back and nearly over the edge if not for a hand latching onto my wrist and pulling me toward the center.

He was lucky I was too terrified to puke all over him. Rain pelted us like tiny pieces of hail salted with the sea water splashing us every two seconds. In mere moments we were soaked to the bone. Good seeing as this pint-sized boat didn’t look like it’d survive another minute.

“Where-Where are we?!” I yelled, stumbling into him and sending us both to the floor as a large swell rocked the boat. This was insane. Utterly and totally insane. How the hell was this supposed to be helping me? Geez. I knew this was a stupid idea. Helping me? Please, this guy clearly just wanted to see me drown.

“Calm down, everything will be alright,” he called sternly, pulling me up to meet his stony gaze.

“Alright? Alright?! What part of this seems alright to you-ah!” I flailed, falling into his chest and struggling to right myself and seem at least somewhat competent, “Why did you bring us to the middle of the ocean?”

“On the contrary, we are quite close to land,” he responded calmly like we weren’t on a boat about to capsize. The urge to strangle him was never stronger, but I suppose it was for the best as he gazed leftwards, prompting me to do the same.

Nothing but grey streaked darkness met me, not even the reassurance of a lighthouse making its way through the storm. Sure, there could actually be land in that direction but it’d take a miracle for us to reach it alive. I mean, I was fairly confident in my swimming skills but even then this was no pool. And if I had to help Grey… There’s no way we’d make it.

“And why aren’t we there?” I snapped, grasping the edge of the boat as a fearsome wave just narrowly avoided tipping us. This was insane. We were going to drown. How was this moving forward? Nothing made sense.

“Because this is where we are supposed to be,” he replied easily, tugging my arm and pointing upwards into the sky.

I squinted as countless raindrops soaked my face, making it nearly impossible to see. Indeed, it was nothing short of a miracle that I made out the chilling sight of Moby Dick approaching the city. A gasp tore from my throat as a flash of lightning illuminated the area, briefly revealing pin-prick figures dancing atop the flying fortress. That had to be Atsushi and Akutagawa!

I gawked, more astonished than I should be at the sight, giving Grey the chance to smirk as he spoke in that same near disquieting calm, “Actions always face consequences and resistance. In the times to come you will face much worse than this storm. Alas, remember and keep this lesson close to your heart: regardless of the outcome, inaction is by far a worse crime than mistaken action.”

Huh? Well, yeah, you said that last time. But weren’t there also times in which waiting proved more beneficial?

As if reading my thoughts, Grey gave a small smile, “Do not worry, you still have time to learn. Every setback only proves to be an important lesson for you. As you move forward you will discover better methods, but until then keep moving.”

Okay. So why does this feel so…off? I frowned. Something about Grey didn’t sit right. Maybe because he seemed to know more than he let on? Or that he was also a figure that shouldn’t be in this story? That he potentially knew about a way for me to return to my world? Or perhaps what he said when we first met – the thing about the curse or whatever “that burden” was?

I opened my mouth to speak only for a burst of wind to steal my words. Without warning a pillar of blue-white light shot into the clouds, parting them to reveal a magnificent sunset – or was it sunrise? Hard to tell with the storm blocking out everything. Indeed, my sense of time was all sorts of messed up. At the very least the sight gave me some hope.

At long last, this battle was finally coming to an end.

“Violet,” I blinked, turning toward Grey and finding his gentle smile replaced with a cold expression that sent chills down my spine, “The path ahead of you is treacherous to say the least. In order to survive, you must secure that which belongs to you and you alone. Don’t stop; keep walking forwards and your feet will never stray from the path.”

What was he-?

A loud splash cut my thoughts short and ripped a yelp from my lips as it sounded only a couple of feet behind me. What was that? A piece of Moby Dick? Was it falling apart? I mean it was destined to crash into the bay, but still. Why was-?

Golden yellow flashed beneath the water’s surface, effectively stealing my breath as Fitzgerald’s unconscious face blurred beneath the water’s surface. Without thinking, my heart lurched and I swiftly dove in after him. Don’t ask me why. Probably a mix of nerves and habit from the time I served as a lifeguard. Or perhaps the fact he sunk without any indication of trying to stay afloat. Either way, it failed to keep the curse from escaping my lips as I entered the cool, somewhat choppy waters.

Focusing on his slowly sinking form, I reached out and grabbed his hand, beginning the process of lugging him to the surface. It’d been a while since I toted someone to shore. Fortunately I hadn’t lost that much muscle since my time here and the silver lining of a boat just a few strokes away.

Or so I thought until we surfaced to find the boat and Grey nowhere to be found.

“What the…hell?!” I gasped, turning left and right near frantically. Treading water was not that difficult but doing so with dead weight? This really was bad. So much for moving forward with ease. Guess this was what he meant about learning along the way. Jerk could’ve at least left the boat behind though.

“Damn…!” I cursed, grimacing as an explosion rocked the air above us, giving way to the sight of Moby Dick crashing just shy of Yokohama’s port. My heart skipped a beat, fearful for Kyouka’s safety. Was she-? No! I grit my teeth and hoisted Fitzgerald onto my shoulder. She was fine. She had to be fine.

Repeating that like a mantra, I slowly toted Fitzgerald to the closest shoreline in sight, thankful that after all this time away from the pool everything came back naturally. After what felt like hours, I lugged us both onto shore, breathing heavily as my muscles screamed at the unexpected workout – adrenaline long since leaving my body aching.

Flipping over onto my back, I focused on catching my breath, not bothering to witness the spectacular sunrise, warm colors turning into soft blues and white clouds. Beautiful, really. Perfect setting to take a nap.

“You…saved me…”

Of course that could wait a few minutes. Ahhhh…. Okay. Let’s get this over with.

Pulling myself up, I gazed wearily at Fitzgerald, the man’s eyes betraying just how exhausted I felt as he rasped, “Why…?”

Why indeed. He’d be fine. He survived in the original storyline, so there really was no need. Or maybe that was the point. Maybe this was just a test Grey set up. Regardless, we made it back alive. That’s all that really mattered. And yet…

“Because…” I frowned, hesitating only a little at the feelings flooding my heart – the juxtaposition of genuinely caring for the man’s kindness and resolve warring with his atrocious methods. In the end, I exhaled deeply and met his gaze, speaking barely above a whisper, “Because you will save the Agency in the future…”

Fitzgerald blinked. Whether he saw through my words or not, I’d never know as he chuckled weakly and let his head rest on the ground, “A life for a life, huh…?”

Basically… I stood there, watching as he drifted off to sleep before turning and limping my way up the hill. It looked like we landed in the slums of the city. Fortunately it wasn’t that difficult to find my way back. God bless Port Mafia’s towers as a signal post. Indeed, as opposed to my past wanderings, I reached the Agency before the sun rose too far into the sky.

However, before I could begin to ascend the stairs, a gentle voice beckoned me from the café, “You must be Violet-san.”

I blinked, numbly glancing over to where the owner’s wife shot me a kind smile, “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

Without thinking I numbly nodded and accepted her invitation, finding a comfortable spot at the bar. Everything felt heavy and weighed down. My damp clothes didn’t help in the slightest but at the very least the walk dislodged a good chunk of the water. Be that as it may, I was exhausted. Evidently enough to pass out before she could even return to give me my drink.

At long last this arc was finally over. I was taking all the chances I could before things really turned south.

After everything, we all deserved a good night’s sleep. Or at the very least a pleasant cat nap.

Notes:

I live! Guess who managed to survive finals? Thank goodness. Thought I was going to try to take a summer b course but after that...nah. I'm good.

Let me get one thing straight though, this chapter took me freaking forever because of the sole fact I couldn't figure out what time it was when Moby Dick crashed. I know, minor detail, but it drove me insane to the point I threw my hands in the air and said screw it it's sunrise. And yeah, don't know if that's cannon but that's what I'm rolling with. Port Mafia is just a collection of day drinkers.

Anyways, enjoy the long unedited chapter. Will be back to revise when I can. Until then, onwards~

@seneca: Haa don't know if this was exactly what you were expecting. But with the upcoming arcs ahead I figured I'd let this one settle more as an introductory one that sets up future events. Lol well I tried. Writing 40 pages for an exam doesn't leave much breathing time - then again I always found it easier to do it all in one go than piece by piece but coffee is life and by a miracle I am not sick. Hmm, I was considering including 55 minutes but I may just leave it out or include it as an extra or something they mention outside of the story since I've pretty much mapped out the rest of it for the most part. Geez Beast is killer. Don't think my heart can handle that just yet, but will see if either one makes it into the story c;

@Catami: Haha yes it may become an extra spin-off like thing when chapters get too dark. True, I can see where you're coming from and it does seem a bit rushed. Still, I am curious as to what awaits him given the fact that Fukuzawa gave no indication that Yosano is dead, which could mean she survived his attack and perhaps revived Gin and Hirotsu (which I pray for because I adore Hirotsu for reasons I can't explain but want him to be alive); either way, Akutagawa is probably gonna kill him for hurting his sister if Chuuya doesn't crush him first. Yes! Skk is life although Fyozai is very much becoming my obsession (that and the fun of Skk with Fyo pining after Dazai makes me squeal). And Ranpo and Poe are the cutest ever ♥

@ilover: Haha yes it fits him perfectly and I'm glad to join your cackling. True true, I think Violet's just glad he's gone. But all in all, will see how long that lasts. Aww thank you ♥ And eh, more like 40 page essays and 20 page assignments but meh coffee is life and very good when you're so sleep deprived you begin experimenting with mixing different fruits and spices with it. Maybe at the end of this degree I'll open my own shop.

Thank you all! Until next time~

Chapter 41: While the Glow Lasts

Summary:

Celebrate achievements and happy moments when they come. You never know when they will reappear.

Excitement buzzed in the air, and for the first time in what felt like forever the reasons behind it did not involve anything dark or deadly. No. At long last we made it out – we survived the Guild and the story remained relatively intact. It was a wonderful reason to celebrate, but not why we were all gathered together, eagerly waiting for the Agency’s door to open.

Kyouka passed the entrance exam – she was now an official member of the Armed Detective Agency. And a surprise party was just the thing to celebrate it. Gosh.

How long had it been since I’ve thrown one? Cleo’s 21^st? Yeah, that was it. We all camped out for two hours in a hotel across the Atlantic cause the girl wanted to visit every last exhibit in the Lourve. Still, it was worth it in the end to see how surprised and delighted she was. Ah… I really do miss her. Wonder what she’s up to now? Was she and Ryan worried? Were they looking for me?

Concern and familiar worrying over everyone in my world nearly sobered my elation, and probably would have if not for Naomi handing me a popper, smiling brightly, “Get ready Violet-chan. I just saw them enter the building.”

Excitement glittered in her grey-blue eyes, proving infectious as I smiled back. I could worry about things later. As for now we had a party to throw – one I actually looked forward to and neglected sleep in favor of contributing a few homemade dishes. Hopefully Kyouka would enjoy them.

We gathered together, everyone practically radiating excitement – former nerves now turned toward a much more positive cause. What better way to end things, huh?

The door clicked open. Confetti burst into the air as we all proclaimed, “Congratulations on joining the Agency, Kyouka!”

The sheer surprise and joy that flooded her eyes nearly made me cry. To think that all she’s been through, everything she’s overcome… And now she’s finally made it to a good place. She deserved it so much – hell, all of them deserved to be happy and just live a good life. At the very least I hoped she and everyone here could bask and remember this moment and hold onto it for the days to come.

But that was a grey cloud that could wait for another day.

For now, basking seems like a good thing to do and very easy to accomplish in the festive atmosphere. Indeed, getting to reunite with all the secretaries was nice. Apparently they went to an even fancier spa-like place after evacuating from the first safe house. Freaking figures. If only I stuck around with them, maybe I’d be able to experience an onsen. Well, whatever. Tatsuo said that the next time we have time off for a retreat they’d go back.

It was a comment that left me not quite sure how to feel, something Naomi and Haruno thankfully pulled me away from to marvel at the peach cobbler I made that morning, younger praising cheerfully, “I had no idea you were such an amazing cook, Violet-chan!”

“Yes, this tastes wonderful,” Haruno put in happily, taking another bite.

“Thank you,” I smiled. Peach cobbler wasn’t exactly something I’d typically make but it was sweet so chances were that Kyouka would enjoy it, not to mention I heard that Dazai liked peaches and figured at least one person would like it even though I kinda already knew he wasn’t going to be here and oh geez am I losing it?

My cheeks warmed, prompting a few giggles from the girls only to be stopped as Kyouka approached and tugged on Haruno’s sleeve, prompting us to glance over at Atsushi who instantly bowed his head apologetically.

“Forgive me!” the teen apologized vigourously to the extent we flinched.

I knew he felt guilty for attacking them, but honestly hun, it wasn’t that bad. Need to remember to spoil him rotten for a couple of days while things settled down. Maybe take him and Kyouka to an ice cream shop? Would have to have Ranpo show me which one he thought was the best. Geez, can you imagine how that’s gonna play out? What an afternoon to look forward to.

Anyways, Naomi and Haruno quickly put to rest any guilt he felt if only for Tanizaki to approach, asking something along the lines of why he hadn’t heard of any of this beforehand. Probably because of this right here, but hey he wouldn’t hurt Atsushi too badly. All the reason for me to drift away toward the potluck-buffet and gorge myself on more food.

Everything tasted amazing, and I was glad to hear everyone enjoyed the cobbler, mac and cheese, and sushi I made for them. It was hard work, especially considering how tired I’d been after everything and nearly pulling an all-nighter. But in the end it was more than worth it to celebrate Kyouka and reunite with everyone in the Agency. Well, everyone and a couple more as I spotted Poe peek through the door meekly.

The poor guy. His raccoon, Karl I think his name was, instantly flourished in the party-atmosphere. Meanwhile Poe awkwardly sat at a table a little ways off and waited for Ranpo to join him. Given his pompous tone and elated conversation with the other secretaries over his accomplishments, I doubted it’d be any time soon. Poor guy. He really was a sweet heart.

Taking pity, I nabbed an extra plate of food, placing what I hoped would be more recognizable items from my dishes onto it before approaching him with a small smile, “Hello, may I join you?”

“Uhh…Sure,” he responded, blinking at the plate I set in front of him, “Is this…cobbler?”

“Yep,” I nodded, “Peach cobbler.”

Tentatively he glanced between the plate and me as if not sure how to act, but after a small bite he quickly melted a little more into the mood and happily enjoyed everything I brought him. It was cute, seeing him eye a few dishes I luckily knew the names of – others leaving both of us the innocent foreigners poking at it with a small fork before finding out it was either amazing or too odd to eat more of. All in all, it really felt like a bonding moment. Indeed, all of it made me want to read one of his stories and explore that world like Ranpo.

An exasperated gasp left Poe’s lips as he downed another glass of water, face red after putting a glob of wasabi on his piece of sushi. Poor guy. Almost thought he’d pass out and learn Yosano’s ability the hard way. Fortunately I knew he’d be okay. Chalk it up as something you learn from experience. Cause yes, I was that kid who did the same thing he did and learned the hard way. Hence my giggle fit as I handed him a glass of milk.

“Here, this is better,” I spoke between laughs.

He graciously accepted, color returning to normal after a little bit. Wish I could stifle my laughter the same way. If it makes him feel any better, it was a laughing with you moment rather than laughing at you. By the time I settled down, his expression was soft, almost content. Wonder if he’s actually having a good time now. Hopefully. Sitting awkwardly in the corner is hardly fun.

“Are you happy here?”

I blinked, not totally expecting the question yet reading his context clearly. Was I happy? Was I glad to be here instead of the Guild? Did I want to stay here? It was an easy answer.

“Yes,” I responded softly, gazing over everyone, “I like the Agency. I like being with everyone here.”

Poe gave an almost pitying smile, but before I could question it his idol decided it was finally time to entertain the guest he invited over, “Hey, so do you have the manuscript?”

Instantly it was like nothing else existed other than Ranpo as Poe eagerly agreed and pulled the stack of papers out of his bag. Kinda annoying but overall endearing to see the two interact and grow closer. Maybe one day Poe would be a quasi-member of the Agency like Lucy. Or… Hmmm. Maybe provide the link to the Order of the Clocktower or whatever the European group called itself. After all, Poe was affiliated with the group, right? Hmm… Interesting indeed. Might have to hang out with the pair a bit more in the future.

For now, I let them have their moment, depositing our empty plates in a trash bin and heading toward the door. Parties were nice and all, and I loved reuniting and catching up with everyone, but I think I may have gotten just a bit too much socializing. Kinda just needed a burst of fresh air, and maybe a view that the top of the building could provide. Although… Should I tell someone?

I glanced back at their brilliant happiness – Atsushi having faced Tanizaki’s punishment of dressing up and getting his face drawn on, while Yosano, Haruno, Kunikida and a couple of others drank merrily. They were perfectly content. Nothing I wanted to disrupt even a tiny bit. Besides, Ranpo probably guessed as much. If anything he could tell them for me.

Letting their voices fade, I ascended the stairs and breathed in the wonderful cool air outside. Not exactly country fresh but so soothing on the lungs and skin. Weird given how city air was typically smoggy. Guess I got used to it sometime or another. That or the ocean breeze transformed Yokohama’s air into something better. Coupled with the amazing view of the city coming to life at night, it wasn’t hard to figure out why so many were captivated by it – why the Agency and Port Mafia fought so hard to protect it.

A place that would face further threats in the coming days or weeks or however long it took Fyodor’s rats to reach it. Reach it? Please. His hands were already in things. Case and point being Dazai’s absence right now. I hope he’s okay. I really wanted to see him, but at the same time…

Maybe it was best that we stayed away. I mean, after that night when he kissed me, I couldn’t think straight with him around me. Was this what they call head over heels in love with someone? Please. It was just a kiss. A small one. One he didn’t even seem to remember himself…

Geez. I need to get my head straight… Although, is that really possible? Aside from all of…that, there was also the conundrum that was Grey. I never really figured out who he was – just a vague sense that he wasn’t an enemy. And maybe that, like me, he was similar to Lovecraft? That we were “ability-users” with weird abilities that didn’t null upon Dazai’s touch? What exactly did that make us? More importantly, what exactly could Grey do? Teleport? If so, what was the extent of his ability? Could he potentially send me home?

Or… Gosh, was he the reason I was here? But why? Why bring me here? What was his purpose? Would he show up again when Fyodor ran among the city? Geez. I hope not. Things were going to be stressful as is; I really didn’t need him adding another touch of chaos to the mix. Indeed, I could already feel my muscles tensing. So much for relaxing. Luck little me could spend the entire time worrying over the inevitable. Sounds fun, right?

Goodness… I sighed, gazing up at the few blurred stars that managed to pierce the city smog. What fresh horrors awaited us this time? More importantly, would I be able to keep the story on track? Fitzgerald was one thing, but Fyodor? He was way out of my league. Heck, I still didn’t really know what his ability entailed. It was like walking a tightrope in the dark.

The sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts – sound oddly sharp against the blurred city noises. I turned, finding Fukuzawa approach quietly. Did he need some air too? Or was he looking for me? Did he want to ask me about the Tripartactic again? Do you think he’d be upset if I told him it would play a larger role later on?

Much to my quiet surprise, he remained silent, instead taking the opportunity to gaze at the city. After a few moments, he spoke, “It is a nice night.”

Huh? I blinked, not really expecting that but glad nonetheless as I followed his gaze and nodded in agreement. We stayed like that for a while, until the cool air grew a bit much on my skin and I had to rub some warmth back into it. Maybe it was time to return downstairs and maybe see if Yosano wanted to head back. Loved everything about this but right now bed seemed so much better.

I turned, making it a few steps before Fukuzawa spoke up, “Violet.”

Stopping, I faced his stoic gaze as he paused as if to gather his thoughts before asking, “Do you wish to stay here with the Agency?”

What? Is this going to be a reoccurring thing now? Did I suddenly give off the impression that I hated being here?

Before I could respond, he continued, adding some clarity to his thought process, “Fitzgerald is likely still around.”

Oh. I see. Did he think I was worried over him? That I was scared he’d try to take me away again? Or maybe… Did he think I was concerned for his safety after his defeat? I guess he and the others didn’t know I toted him to shore. Still…

“I want to stay here, with everyone,” I answered with a small smile, “Fitzgerald does not scare me.”

It was true. He was much less of a concern now than before. Probably cause he lost a great majority of his power and wouldn’t regain it until Louisa found him. All in all, we had time to deal with him if he became a threat once more.

“Is there something else that scares you?”

I met his stony eyes as a chill trailed down my spine. Something that scares me, huh? Could I even say what without altering things?

Without a word, I nodded, deciding at the very least to be honest to that extent. I was scared – much more than before as my foreknowledge was steadily running out. That and all the variables that kept on popping up and playing larger roles with each passing moment. It was terrifying. The unknown was, well, unknown to all and thus was scary. Worst of all, I began catching myself forgetting about my world.

Would there come a time when I no longer remembered the place I was born in – my family and friends that got me here?

Fukuzawa’s gaze tightened, likely reading my unease as something else as he murmured, “And Natsume-sensei?”

Wow he really cared about the guy. Guess he was his mentor and all. Still, feel for him. So much for a relaxing retirement.

“Yes,” I replied softly. He will be there as well.

Thankfully I didn’t need to say that as the leader held my gaze for a moment longer before sighing, “It will get that bad, huh?”

Dude you have no idea.

Without another word, I opened the door – finding Fukuzawa linger a bit longer before joining me downstairs where a very drunk group of secretaries headed by a rambling Kunikida and Yosano sat among the remnants of the party. It was so cliché and somehow unexpectedly expected that I couldn’t help but laugh. At the very least this night ended on a high note.

Maybe it would linger a bit longer so we could all enjoy this peace will it lasted. For now, though, I had a very drunk doctor to lug back home – or at the very least into the infirmary with the others sprawled around the room.  

Notes:

I'm sick as hell but want to post another chapter and get into the next arc which is not at all a happy one but hey goals.

Anyway, congrats to Bungou for a wonderful season ♥ I am already impatient for more

Chapter 42: The Upsidedown

Summary:

Careful where you step, lest you find yourself in Wonderland.

A perfect day.

Temperate weather, puffy white clouds, dazzling sunshine, and a soft breeze… Everything was the picture of an ideal afternoon. Faceless people passed; their voices imparted a warm, lively atmosphere.

Yet with all their vivacity, they fell short to the excited gleam in those olive eyes and pure smile that beamed up at him in unconditional joy. It certainly beat the weary eyes and near consistent frown she wore since the Guild began terrorizing the city. Perhaps their submission allowed her to at last relinquish that heavy burden she carried by herself.

Hopefully the next time she faced such a burden she would learn to let them help shoulder the weight. As for now, he was content in keeping a promise he held fair certainty she was not even aware he made. One that brought with it an additional pleasure in manipulating a certain blonde, glasses-wearing agent’s perspective on things.

After all, was it not more important to keep his vow to the younger blonde than some report Atsushi could simply give in his place? Was that not what noble people did? What aligned with the elder blonde’s very ideals?

Well, enough to get him to pause and ponder things and grant the pair ample time to slip out of the office.

At the very least Violet appeared to enjoy the fresh air and detour from her usual route to and from the Agency and Yosano’s residence. Perhaps in the future she’d gain clearance to join them on jobs in the field instead of spending her time inside. Though she did appear to enjoy her time with Yosano in the infirmary – beholding the many vials with a knowing glint in her olive eyes. Was she perhaps familiar with medicine? A nurse? Or perhaps a student given her fresh glimmer of curiosity? If so, the Agency may benefit more if she came under Yosano’s wing. That way she could get ample time in both realms yet remain away from dangers that may prove too much for her.

Including those that sought to monopolize her disquieting ability.

His smile faded the slightest of bits as he observed her walk beside him contently. What new enemies awaited her? She survived Fitzgerald, but that was largely in part due to their odd quasi-family relationship – something she would not hold the luxury of regarding the demon they were poised to face in the coming future.

Did he learn of her already? How much? What twisted ways would he manipulate her ability to his advantage? More worrisome: would he veto all of that in favor of simply silencing her? At what point would her potential be outweighed by her risk?

He could not yet discern enough to tell for sure where Violet landed on that spectrum, but if the shadowy tail they acquired a few blocks back said anything it was not particularly ideal.

Who was it? A Guild member? One of Fitzgerald’s lackeys come to bring her to him? No. That man was out for at least a month. There was no way he’d go to such extents even after the bond they forged. But if they weren’t from the American organization, then who? Not Port Mafia. As adept as he was in reading their stealth tactics, this one felt…off. Almost as if the person was rusty – making few yet notable errs in jumping from shadow to shadow a bit too quickly.

Dazai’s blood chilled. Could they be a member of that man’s group? Had a rat snuck in below his radar? In that case his entire timing was off – all those calculations needed to be adjusted. Should he confront him? Could he do so while protecting Violet? A frown marred his features. What was the best thing to do…?

“Dazai…?”

No. Too many variables remained, and after everything she went through he couldn’t justify the risk. Not when alternatives were within easy grasp.

Dazai veered into the adjacent alleyway, taking Violet’s hand and pulling her into shielding darkness. She gave a small gasp, tumbling into his chest as he peered back at their tail. Their form tensed at the loss of their prey. Good. It would last just long enough to get away.

Below, he felt the blonde shift. A question caught in her features as he glanced at her; Violet’s olive eyes narrowed in suspicion – not at him but in the direction of their unwelcomed follower. Did she catch on? If so, did that mean she didn’t see them coming? Why? Was that the limitation to her ability? It made sense as such an omnipotent power felt too strong for any one person to possess. Even then, what differed between the two? Perhaps she had to hold a connection to the people who occupied her visions? Or maybe there really was nothing to this and he was overthinking?

Either way, his mind was set. Ruffling her hair to gather her attention, Dazai gave a light smile, “Sorry, Violet-chan. Looks like we’re going to take a raincheck on this.”

She pouted cutely, but followed without question as he guided her by the hand down the alleyway. Her blind faith, while feeling a bit misplaced, was by far a blessing in moments like these. Maybe he should get her one of those fancy sundaes instead of a simple cone – something he could convince Kunikida to pay for when they returned to the Agency and discerned the nature of their tail.

Weaving through the alleys brought back a weird nostalgia. He recalled them clearly, like a worn, trustworthy path he ventured down countless times. Only this occasion brought an odd twist in the daylight granting more light to the passageways than the glow of the moon when it rose high enough to reach the dark crevices.

Steadily, the breaths behind him grew heavier and a glance back revealed a glisten of sweat across Violet’s brow as she stumbled to keep up with his longer strides. He sent a silent apology, unable to relent just yet. They were still too close within range of the person. They couldn’t stop now. Besides…

“You can do it, Violet-chan. We’re almost there…” he encouraged with a small smile she weakly mirrored only for a piece of metal fencing to snag her dress and rip their hands apart.

A startled yelp left her lips as the blonde harshly fell to her knees; pinprick tears forming at the corners of her eyes as Dazai quickly skidded to a stop and backtracked. Before he could say a word, she shakily came to her feet, speaking somewhat out of breath, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

In juxtaposition of her words, her legs trembled and blood began welling up on her knees. Dazai frowned. They weren’t far from where Kunikida was scheduled to be at this time, and while it would slow them down a bit, he could justify carrying her the rest of the way. Given the grimace she struggled to conceal, it may end up proving faster.

Right as he made up his mind on the matter, a deafening shot exploded in the alleyway – Violet’s startled yelp barely discernable beneath the ringing in his ears. Fortunately his reflexes remained intact as he jumped forward to shield her moments before a spray of metal shards hit his back.

“Dazai!” she gasped, feeling him tense from the pain – mortified expression only growing worse as his smile was marred by a wince as they shifted and caused some of the pieces to poke at him.

“My, what an aggressive pursuer we’ve got…” he smirked, peering in the shadows behind the blonde. Based off the trajectory, the shooter should be-

“What is…?” Violet’s gasp followed by a cloudy white mist tore him from his thoughts as he glanced back into the alleyway now coated in a thick smog.

Was it a chemical? Or merely liquid nitrogen? More chilling, was that shot really a misfire? Had they been herded this way?

Unwilling to take the risk, Dazai reached to cover Violet’s mouth. Whatever the case, he couldn’t risk her inhaling more than she already had. His background could buy him a few more minutes – more than enough time to get clear.

Or so was the plan before it went up in flames, literally as a column rose between them suddenly. Heat seared his hand, forcing him back until he stumbled against the wall. Violet gasped, staggering the other way. His heart skipped a beat. Were they trying to separate them? But how did they manage this? There was no way this was an ability, and yet what else could it be?

Dazai grit his teeth, overriding instinct to back away from the fire in favor of swiftly rolling through it. Fire singed his bandages and clothes, making him hiss momentarily. Be that as it may, he forced it away in favor of lessening the gap between them. If the enemy wanted them apart, the logical thing to do for now is stay close.

If only logic applied anymore as the sight that met him was anything but sane.

Buildings swayed as if caught in a liquid mirage – windows shattering and raining down dark shards that turned to ash far too quickly to be possible. Cracks and fissures tore the ground apart. The sky darkened, sun becoming black. Violet gasped, her astonishment reflected clearly in his expression.

This had to be an ability. What they saw was impossible. Nothing made sense, and yet… If this was all an illusion conjured by some ability user, then why did it not disappear at his touch. Could it be…?

Without warning gravity glitched, granting them a weightlessness that baffled both before that surprise turned to dread at the implications – Violet the first to catch on as she reached for him desperately, “Dazai…!”

The named blinked, briefly caught up in wonder if this is what his former partner experienced while using his ability and the sheer insanity of it all before catching on – noting how he rose slightly faster than the blonde. And the gaping chasm that grew to swallow her whole the moment gravity returned. He tensed, weather mirroring his emotions as a fierce gale swept through the alley.

“Dazai!” Violet’s cry tore past him, quickly disappearing within the gales.

He met her terrified face, shock marring his expression as Dazai grimaced and reached for her hand. Nothing made sense, nothing except for an instinct to stay together. He had to hold on to her, he could not lose her. And yet even then he could do nothing as a fierce gust tore her away the moment their fingertips brushed.

A horrified scream left her as the darkness quickly consumed her, Dazai shouting vainly as he felt the invisible hand tug him upwards into more black, “Violet-chan!”

She disappeared before the last syllables left his lips.

 

…

 

Ever had a pot-hole dream? You know, the ones where you suddenly step down like when you fail to recognize that last step and fall for seemingly ever even though it’s only a few inches? Those dreams that literally jerk you awake? Well I may not have been dreaming, but the awakening was just as rude.

Geez, Rude? Understatement of the century. Everything hurt and my head spun like I spun around too many times. To make matters worse, I had a major migraine some flickering light failed to help whatsoever as it nagged at the back of my eyelids. Seriously. If you’re not going to pay the bills or change the bulb just turn the thing off-

Or not. Cause sunshine doesn’t run on electricity.

How-? What-? I blinked up at the canopy of trees above. Trees. How’d I get here? We were in the middle of Yokohama – closer to the ocean than forest. What happened? All I remember was Dazai pulling us away, being tailed, then the freak tornado in the alley and…nothing. Geez. That did not spell anything good. I mean, at least it dumped me in a daytime forest rather than somewhere at night. That’s gotta count for something, right?

Shame it didn’t magically heal as every fiber of my being screamed in protest as I shakily rose to my knees. Goodness, how was I supposed to stand? Sure it was daytime now, but at this rate night would fall and bring its demons soon. Something I did not want to face alone. A reality that chilled me as the hollow only harbored myself.

Where was Dazai?

I went to call his name when something hit me. Something didn’t feel right. Heck, nothing about this felt right. Even more so the action of calling for Dazai. Was this some trap? A safe haven surrounded by wolves? It certainly felt possible.

Crap. What do I do? Silent solo it until I happen to find him? He invented mafia surveillance tactics. How the heck was I going to find him if he didn’t want to be found like I certainly did not. Geez…

“Dazai…?” I whispered. Kinda counterproductive but enough to appease my nerves.

Well, sort of as in the next moment the spiked. Silence followed, building tension in my bones that the lack of wind failed to help. What was this place? Why was it so quiet? Obviously something not good was here. That’s why there’re no animals, right? Their instincts told them to scram – all the signal I needed to follow in their footsteps.

Footsteps that crushed the dried leaves and branches to my left hauntingly.

What-?

A deafening shot exploded, zooming inches away from my arm. Holy-! That was no animal. Animals don’t shoot guns. No. Hunters do. And sadly I didn’t think they missed or accidentally fired in my direction.

“Hello rabbit,” an oily voice crooned, belonging to a rather foxlike man who cocked his hip and tapped a slim gun on his shoulder arrogantly. Beside him like a giant grey shadow, was a burly man – his gun pointed at me.

For some reason I don’t think he missed because of bad aim.

The sound of him reloading ignited adrenaline in my veins, something his sly companion smirked manically at as he pointed his gun like some distorted mirror to his partner, “Better run little bunny.”

Don’t need to tell me that.

Without wasting a second, I turned and bolted. Not even a moment later bullets rained around me. Good gosh! What the heck was happening? Why were they shooting me? Where was I? Why was this happening? Where’s Dazai? How-?

Pain seared my wrist, bringing white fire to my vision and nearly sending me down. Thank goodness for adrenaline for keeping me going. Unfortunately I don’t think it will amount to much as fox guy’s laughter echoed through the woods.

“The hunt is on.”

Notes:

Welcome to the point where the story diverges! As I mentioned before, this arc is less than cheery and begins building on some of the major plot points for later on in this endless journey (to put it into perspective, we are a little over a fourth of the way through).

Chapter 43: Game of Survival

Summary:

This is a wild game of survival.

Bullets whistled sharply, cutting through the air and planting crassly into tree trunks and the hard ground. Better than me. Although I couldn’t say whether my evasiveness was at play or if these hunters were merely toying with me. I held a sinking feeling that the latter weighed truer.

“Ah!” I flinched, narrowly avoiding a bullet to the head – instead opting for the searing fire tracing along my cheek.

What was happening? Where was this? How did I even get here? Where was Dazai? All I remember was being in that alleyway and everything going insane… Could we have been drugged? But it all felt so real… And even then, why? Who would do such a thing? Everything was terrifyingly real, but the thing that scared me the most was the fact that this definitely did not happen in the original story.

Which meant these events were more than likely due to my presence here. And just when I was beginning to forget about all that too…

Bang!

Geez. Right. Running from manic people. How could I forget?

Green scenery blurred by. Not that I was running faster than a car, just that my attention was very much focused on getting out and somehow following a path-not-path through unfamiliar woods – pine needles coating the ground making it all that more difficult. Didn’t even know they grew this close to Yokohama. I mean, there were a few mountainy areas in the south but even then… How sure could I be that this was remotely near the city?

Everything kept piling up. I needed to find Dazai. Yeah. That seemed to be the best plan. Find him and hope he knows where the heck we are and how to deal with these lunatics. And maybe if he picked up anything first-aid related from Yosano or Mori as I suddenly slipped on a bed of needles.

A yelp escaped my throat as I tumbled down a hill probably too steep to be called that as I tumbled over and over to the extent I couldn’t make heads or tails of which way was up or down. With each turn, small rocks and sharp pine needles dug into my skin. It sucked, but at the very least it put some distance between me and the hunters.

Shame it didn’t amount to anything as a particularly large rock slammed into the side of my head and reduced everything to black.

 

…

 

 

Mold and mildew commixed; a sharp metallic scent cutting through the damp, heavy air. Olfactory senses stirred memories of the slums; of dilapidated streets and worn paths; of that dusty room filled with chemicals meant to heal but intermittently used for harm. Yet a subtle difference brought questions. Just enough to prompt unease and reason to shift.

Cold air and small, sharp rocks grated against his cheek, a groan slipping past his lips as Dazai pushed against the ground. Carnelian eyes opened painfully, a nagging headache making simple tasks strenuous at a rather inopportune time. His muscles ached – body protesting worse than it had that time he drank too much with Odasaku while already dehydrated from the flu, making the resulting hangover particularly foul.

While not as bad as that moment, the disorientation of seeing unfamiliar scenery failed to help in the slightest.

Plaster peeled from walls that looked barely better – stains formed from poor care and erosion littering every inch of the room. Indeed, furniture was either broken or in horrid state; the floor he sat upon strewn with glass, debris, and, to his frown, blood. Old and new mixed together to form an ungodly hue. His instincts screamed. This place…wherever it was, it wasn’t a pleasant place to be. Not one he endeavored to linger within in the slightest – especially if it meant she was there too.

“Violet-chan…?”

Dazai grimaced, his raspy voice grating harshly on his parched throat and nearly sending him into a coughing fit. Out of reflex, his eyes scrunched, but he kept them open enough to scour his surroundings for that familiar head of golden locks. Someone he didn’t know if he felt relieved or terrified to find nowhere in sight.

Was it foolish of him to wish that she somehow escaped?

Of course. Dazai staggered to his feet, muscles sore and weighed down as if he ran for miles on end – nowhere near the amount they darted through Yokohama’s alleyways. Yokohama… Was this really in the city? The sheer state of decay suggested the slums, and yet the design of the room and its furniture hinted to more Western styles accustomed to the higher end areas of the city. Were they taken somewhere else? That definitely complicated things.

Peering through the window did little to alleviate matters – a thick fog remaining even after he wiped the murky glass with his sleeve. Aside from dark objects discernible as trees and other buildings below, nothing stood out in the white mist. Mist… Could it be him? It would explain Violet’s disappearance, and yet according to his sources he was still wandering about the continent. A place he’d remain for at least another couple of weeks. Did he miscalculate?

Turning on his heel, he exited the room. Regardless of who was to blame, he needed to regroup with the blonde on even the slightest chance she roamed the same grim halls as he did. Moving them to a secondary location was one thing, but separating them… That could only meant they were targeted. Not surprising given their tail. Only question was: who was the target? Himself? Violet? Both of them? Or perhaps, neither of them? Was this just happenstance?

Dazai frowned, scanning the even more dilapidated halls lined with debris and dusty chairs and…hospital cots? Was this some sort of medical establishment? But the room he woke up in looked almost domestic. Perhaps a sanatorium or another long-term asylum? But the outside landmarks, at least those that were visible, did not suggest any of the locations he was familiar with in and around Yokohama.

Caught on that curiosity, he reached into his pocket, intent on retrieving his phone only to be met with empty space. A twisted smirk tugged his lips. His phone was missing and he’d been separated from Violet in an unknown area. Perhaps their leisurely tail was not so inexperienced after all.

Dirt and glass cracked beneath his feet as he navigated around the dark hall, turning the corner to find it only slightly lighter from the clouded glass windows adorning its right side. He barely paid them any attention. Nothing useful was to be gained staring into the fog and trying to discern whether that dark shape was a tree or not. If anything, he simply wanted to be done with the place – not out of fear (one that prompted him to imagine Kunikida nervous in the situation and, thus, bring a sly smirk to his features), but rather of discomfort or growing repulsion of the vague familiarity of the place and the run down clinic in the slums. The one he first encountered Mori in.

Really, the only notable difference was the sheer size of the location. That and the odd whistling noise… Had that always been present? A bird? No, it sounded more like…

A sharp gasp left him and he barely had enough time to cover his head as a loud explosion rocked the building – shattering the windows and sending shards raining down on him. Adrenaline surged, blocking out the pricks of pain searing his form as he ducked into the closest room, stumbling over a piece of debris and falling unceremoniously to the ground.

And directly in front of a rotting foot.

Dazai blinked, the only notable sign of his astonishment of the corpse sitting against the wall beside him. Foul odor filled his nose, prompting him to scrunch it as he groaned and shifted away, once again forcing his protesting limbs up so he could sit back on his knees and examine the body at a more tolerable distance.

Casual clothes with numerous tears and bloodstains. Some bile he did not want to think about clung to the front of the person’s shirt. Their hair was matted and clung to hollow cheeks – beginnings of decay long since progressing to the point he was surprised skin remained. It was overall repulsing and he would have averted his gaze if not for the paper the unfortunate soul clung to.

One singed on the edges and wholly appealing to his curiosity.

With little difficulty, he pried the parchment from the corpse, having to break a couple of fingers he numbly overlooked. Not like the person could feel it anyways. Still, after spending so much time in the Agency it felt…off. Like an unpleasant taste of a dish he once stomached every day yet now couldn’t exactly figure out why he did.

Pushing those thoughts to the side, Dazai opened the paper only to be met with foreign words. Words he could not discern but, after a moment, identified as a language he’d only seen in glimpses in his former boss’ bookshelf. German. Those characters, at the very least, were definitely Latin ones – intriguingly different from the style of kanji, hiragana, and katakana he was more familiar with. Indeed, he thought some of the words looked familiar but couldn’t recall the collective message they conveyed.

Only that, by the layout and numbers combined with the setting, it was likely a medical document of sorts. Perhaps a test result of the victim or whoever it was they were investigating.

An identity that gradually grew unimportant as the implications of things weighed down. That explosion, no doubt it was a bomb, and coupled with the foreign language and Western architecture… This was not merely a place on the other side of the mountains – this was a weathered relic in an entirely different continent.

Dazai frowned. That was insane. Completely improbable. No way could they manage to transport them all that way while keeping them under without any aid of a sedative – one that would certainly leave behind traces he would readily recognize but failed to even catch a hint of presently.

Just like the event in the alley, nothing made sense – only the growing urgency to locate Violet and figure out how to counter their foe. Someone who remained frustratingly elusive even with the hints left haphazardly around him as Dazai once more got to his feet and scoured the place. With each room and damaged hall, he discovered more perplexing documents pointing toward patients, lab results, and other topics he vaguely translated. More concerning, however, was the growing presence of bodies with disturbing wounds and signs of mutilation.

Almost as if they’d been tortured before finally gaining a brutal end. Certainly none he endeavored to experience first-hand. Something he grew increasingly concerned snarled down at his companion who remained missing even as he descended a floor and swept it without finding a clue even indicating her presence.

It was disconcerting to say the least and grated unfavorably against his nerves alongside the general lack of any signs of life aside from the occasional shaking of the building from a distant bomb. Were they in some battle zone? It had to be secluded given the use of such harsh methods. They reminded him of documentaries depicting wars in foreign lands and past times…

Something only accentuated further by the presence of a rather old looking gun situated almost mockingly on a table in front of him – one bearing a sign created in his native language: “Welcome to the crucible.”

He scoffed dryly, regarding the weapon with a hint of scorn. It all felt too convenient. To be welcomed by the mastermind… How utterly cliché. Still, it was rather generous of them even as it would ultimately aid in their downfall. After all, he recognized this firearm and knew of its capabilities rather well. One he glimpsed at numerous times while standing in Mori’s office.

A relic of his time in the military and speaking volumes about their opponent, while eerily echoing the destruction outside the walls he stood within.

Dazai reached for the gun, pulling it closer. Whoever it was, they either held knowledge of his connection to the man or were familiar with Mori themselves. Not like it really mattered. No. He was beginning to see the intent behind this crime. And with each clue he gathered, the outcome grew more and more concrete. Indeed, all that really remained was locating-

Without warning a grating laughter cut through the silence, prompting the brunette to spin on his heels wholly expecting a figure in the doorway only to find, to his bewilderment, an entirely different area stretch out before him.

“What…?” he stammered, unable to stop the outburst as he blinked in astonishment at the new setting before him. Debris and signs of misuse remained, and yet a more livable (if it could even be called that) vibe lingered. As if a homeless person wandered in and made the deplorable place their new abode.

Muffled voices tore him from his stupor, grip on the gun tightening minutely before he tucked it away in the back of his trousers and cautiously went forward to investigate. Placing his steps carefully, he traversed the halls silently, steadily nearing the sound. Steadily he made out words – two distinct voices conversing about…a rabbit?

“So soft. Do you think it’s well groomed?”

“Don’t know, but we can always say it is. Quality is, after all, a major selling point, not to mention a good reason to raise the price.”

He raised a brow, slinking up to the room they came from and carefully peering inside. Vacant. No one stood inside. But how? This was certainly… Carnelian eyes widened as he noted a glass pane. Behind it…?

His breath caught in his throat as he easily made out two men – one lank and greasy, the other stout and rather apish. They were complete opposites. A gorilla and a fox, and yet despite their eccentricity, his attention gravitated toward the rabbit in their arms. One he recognized instantly to the point he felt sick.

“Violet-chan…!” Dazai whispered harshly, grimly noting the blood coating a good portion of the left side of her head.  He stepped forward on instinct only to wince as the fox-like man’s gaze darted his way. His muscles tensed, fingers twitching in anticipation to shoot them in a heartbeat, yet, much to his shock, nothing happened.

“What?” Dazai blinked, warily approaching the glass as the man continued to look in his direction, almost fooling him into believing he actually saw the detective only for a simple motion to bury all those ideas.

A wry smirk curled his lips as the man combed a hand through his hair, curling errant strands back before returning his attention to Violet. Dazai grimaced. This wasn’t a window – it was a one way mirror. One the man just used to check his appearance as if going out on some date. He grit his teeth, glaring as the pair set the blonde down on an old cot, her head shifting listlessly.

“Such pristine skin…” the bulkier man noted, caressing her cheek and trailing calloused fingers down the side of her neck and arm.

Dazai glared at them, fingers already brushing the handle of his gun only to freeze momentarily as his companion revealed a menacing blade, crooning, “Indeed, a pretty sight for a pretty price, don’t you think?”

The brunette felt his breath clog his throat as the man gripped the edge of Violet’s dress, pulling it taut only to cut it slowly with his knife. Despite the thickness of the glass, he could hear the tear without problem, almost mocking in its clarity. The detective scowled, pulling the gun out and preparing to stop them only for another voice to sound from behind him.

“Are you sure that is a logical idea?”

Dazai tensed, shooting a glare behind to find a figure concealed in the shadows on the other side of the room – his grey coat almost glowing in contrast to the darkness. He made out a pair of cold grey eyes regarding him like a scientist would a rat. It would’ve made him shiver if not for the sheer amount of adrenaline running through his veins as the man continued in an almost detached manner.

“They are trained killers, you know? Not exactly the best to poke at. Besides, is that woman really worth risking your safety?”

Who was this man? Dazai frowned, question rising only to be stuck in his throat as the fox-like man let out an awful cackle as he reached the blonde’s chest – seconds from cutting her dress in two. Without hesitation, Dazai aimed for the fox, red sparking in his glare as he hissed out an answer to the stranger.

“What a foolish question.”

He pulled the trigger firing three shots near simultaneously. Before the men on the other side knew what was happening, glass covered the floor – sparkling maliciously as a pool of red formed beneath them.

Notes:

Barely alive to write this and will edit, eh, tomorrow. Probably. If this horrid heat doesn't melt me first.

@cassjo: Haha it's okay. They've been pretty sporadic lately considering how this heat is literally killing me. I felt like absolute death last week but hopefully since its finally starting to cool down things will get better. Oooh good guess, but not quite time for his appearance c; Aww, thank you! By some miracle I passed and got to take the rest of the summer somewhat off as now work is like "Oh so you've got more free time? Come work 10+ hour shifts for us" and my inability to say no is backfiring.

@Chiara: Thank you! And yes I have been waiting for it for a LONG time as it makes way for some real central storyline and things I'm squealing for in the future. Haha well, you're not that far off with Psycho Pass as this arc is inspired by another series. As for Chuuya, well, there is still a good amount of story until he pops in again so hopefully you and everyone else itching for him can survive til then.

Chapter 44: Moment of Clarity

Summary:

Even the abyss seems clear in the aftermath of smoke and flames

Pain throbbed from every inch of my body – most notably a sharp stinging along the left side of my forehead. Everything hurt, and the chill did not help in the slightest. Chill? It was, what, the middle of the day? How was it this chilly? I mean, I did catch a glimpse of some mountains I think? Even then, I didn’t think it’d get that cold that quickly; not to mention musty.

Musty? No. That’s impossible. There’s no way the outside could smell stale. Okay, maybe not everywhere, but the hills? In the forest? Kinda defeats the purpose of fresh air. All in all, not a chance. Which unfortunately meant I was not there anymore. Could it all have been a dream? Was I still in that alleyway in Yokohama?

Muffled voices echoed. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, only that they didn’t sound familiar and my head pounded too hard to really focus on anything. Not particularly good considering things. Especially with the events leading up to this, as insane as they were. Gosh.. Don’t tell me it’s those crazy hunters. I mean, why’d they go through the effort to drag me somewhere else? Do I even want to know?

No. That didn’t matter. Whoever it was, my instincts screamed they weren’t there to help – especially as I felt something nick my stomach and a gruff chuckle that chilled my bones. Oh my God. Were they-?!

Without warning, an explosion tore through the air – sending what I could only assume to be glass and debris flying everywhere. The two voices exclaimed, and for good reason. I would’ve joined them if not for what very clearly presented itself as a knife against my lower ribs veered left, sending fresh hot pain searing the area. Enough to finally break through the haze and gasp out a weak yelp.

My hands clenched into fists, brushing against cold metal. A cot? But where did such a thing exist in the mountains? Where-?

Suddenly, something heavy collided with me, sending me toppling off the edge. Oh gosh. While not tremendously in pain as I would’ve expected, I definitely didn’t look forward to however far of a drop awaited. Instinctively I moved to latch onto the force, intending to at least have it buffer the impact for pushing us over. Unfortunately that didn’t happen as my arms were sandwiched between me and the form as my back hit a cold, hard floor. Dang. Quicker than I thought even as I maintained consciousness. Guess it wasn’t the endless drop I imagined?

Still, it was as unpleasant as getting cold water thrown on you. No. Scratch that. The debris digging into my back and the weight squishing the air from my lungs was way worse. Although I suppose it beat whatever caused the explosions from before – sounds that now rang eerily similar to gun shots. The hunters? Then who were those voices? More insane people? Great. As if I hadn’t already had my fill.

But wait, if these were two separate parties, then who…?

A groan escaped as I attempted to open my eyes, succeeding only halfway as something seemed to seal my left eye shut. Like sleep seed but more resilient as not even the shock of what awaited managed to allow the eye to fully open. Messy dark brown hair tickled my cheek as an unforgettable scent filled my nose. Somewhat coarse bandages juxtaposed with the soft tan coat pressing against me.

It took only seconds to identify what, or rather who shoved me off the cot and onto the cold floor. Unfortunately it took mere milliseconds after the revelation to note just how clearly I felt him – a fact excellently explained by the large tear in my dress that pretty much rendered it in half. My cheeks heated up and only grew worse as I realized he was literally between my legs – soft clothes brushing against mortifyingly bare skin.

Incoherent words escaped my lips as my mind fought between covering myself, blushing, and pushing Dazai off. In the end, it surmounted to me babbling and blushing and going nowhere. Ahh. Why’d this have to happen? As if it wasn’t hard enough not to fall for the attractive guy. No. Don’t do it Violet. He’s bad news. Much worse than anyone in the series. Don’t go down that road. Stay friends. Nothing more. Just friends. I mean, just friends that happened to kiss that one time but no. Just friends. Just friends….

A soft groan left his lips, trailing a breath down my skin that made me shiver unconsciously – frazzled mind growing worse as Dazai at last squirmed to get up, actions brushing across my front like fire. Geez. Was he doing this on purpose? The damn man…

“D-Dazai…!” I stammered, unable to go further as my hands were at last freed. Gosh I wanted nothing more than to cover my face, but priorities demanded I pull the frayed edges of my dress to cover other areas. Geez… Could this get any worse?

Like that’s a question anymore.

Dazai blinked, clearing his warm umber eyes that focused on what happened and my near naked form pinned beneath him. At first he merely blinked, as if registering what was slowly boiling me alive. How could he not feel my embarrassment? How was I still able to keep my eyes open? Guess shock held both of us captive.

If only for a few moments as a whimpering cut through the ringing in our ears, bringing our attention to the grisly sight of the burly hunter – or rather what remained of him. It was horrendous. Straight from a horror movie only more real and jarring. Where his right arm should’ve been was a bloody mess that extended well to the center of his chest – blood pooling down to mingle with that of the fox guy. His glassy eyes stared at us; only inhibited slightly by the trail of blood trickling from what could only be a bullet wound to his head.

As someone who has the horrible habit of watching horror movies while her roommates are away, I can say that in terms of reactions to morbid, scary stuff I fall on the jumpy side of the scale – loud noises being the absolute worst. I mean, what’s so terrifying about a zombie or demon if you can’t hear them scream at you? Seriously, next time you watch some spooky film or show, just turn the audio off and everything is so much more bearable. Well, that’s just my opinion, but that’s beside the point.

Because while the last sounds of the man were barely audible, adrenaline lit my veins on fire as a scream lodged itself into my throat. I vaguely realized the trembling of my body – embarrassment driven completely out by terror and disbelief at the gruesome scene that disappeared when Dazai pulled us up and pressed my face into his chest.

It proved just the momentum I needed to begin breathing erratically and dig my nails into his chest while stammering, “What- What just-? They-!”

Dazai remained quiet, holding me a little closer and slowly shifting up. Almost as if he was preparing himself for something. His calmness was eerie, if not alarming had I not known about his bloodied past. Ironically, that felt somewhat grounding only for a new voice to grate uncomfortably on our ears.

“Blowing himself up after his partner is shot dead… How suiting if not a bit anti-climactic, wouldn’t you say?”

In any other setting the voice could be described as somewhat calming in its detachment, but now it was frankly horrid and only added fuel to the fire. Curiosity, however, is a funny thing. I really didn’t want to meet the face behind such nonchalance in the wake of death, but an urge to see it overwhelmed that. Sort of along the lines of ripping a Band-Aid off quickly instead of slowly peeling it away.

Shifting as much as I dared and could in his grip, I caught a glimpse of two sharp, silver eyes peering in the dim light. Honestly it was surprising that we made anything out at all with how dark it was. What happened? How much time passed? How long was I out? Where even was this?

The eyes drew upwards lazily, voice continuing in the same bored fashion, “So you managed to save the woman. Not that it matters. The end remains the same.”

Geez, cryptic much. Not to mention a tad dramatic. Who was this guy? Did I want to know, considering he was watching those lunatics cut my dress open? Ugh. No. Not at all.

With similar but superiorly concealed apprehension, Dazai spoke, “Oh? Is that so?”

The man tilted his head slightly, eyelids lowering almost sleepily. All in all, he regarded us not at all unlike a scientist would a couple of rats. Ironic given the connotation of the animal to others in the series. Not to mention belittling and rude as crap. Who was this guy? By appearances alone, he seemed rather ragged – like a mad scientist that paid more attention to his work that hygiene. Really, now that my eyes adjusted to the darkness, he bore a similarity to Mori – only entirely less clean and with less…threatening vibes.

Or maybe that was just my irritation blocking out how at home he appeared in what could only be a horrendous place.

One that quickly became consumed in flames at the snap of the man’s fingers. It was jarring to say the least. Was he an ability user? Stupid question. Of course he was. Apparently one with the ability to conjure and perhaps control the fire that surrounded us and began filling the room with an ungodly scent. It took me a moment to realize the source: the two hunters’ bodies.

Choking back the bile rising in my throat, searing heat singed my skin and face only to abruptly diminish as Dazai pulled me closer, shielding me from the flames with his body. Smoke flooded the room, making breathing increasingly difficult. I felt Dazai’s muscles tense, as he pulled us to our feet yet remained questioningly in place. Why? Was he not concerned about the flames about to cook us alive? Was this some double-suicide vendetta thing? Talk about bad timing.

Before I could snap at him, he smirked confidently at the man, his bravado rendering me quiet as he declared, “Nice trick. But none of this is actually real, right?”

Huh? I blinked. Not real? Try telling that to my burning skin. Pretty sure those flames will burn if touched. Then again, if they truly were an ability then Dazai should be able to nullify them… Or maybe this was something like an illusion ability – like Tanizaki’s? That would explain the bizarre scenery, and yet… It all felt so real I couldn’t help but doubt Dazai.

The man remained silent and for a moment I thought he’d never speak only to be proven wrong as the slightest of smirks tugged his thin lips, “You think so?”

Chills ran down my spine, contrasting greatly with the flames licking at our feet. It was a very assured response, almost impressed in the way his silver eyes narrowed at Dazai. As if he realized this mouse was a different shade of gray than all the rest. All in all, not reassuring.

Without warning, a beam crashed down mere feet in front of us – sending embers and debris flying up. I yelped, flinching back as Dazai swiftly followed suit, pulling us a few steps away as the flames expanded and completely obscured the man. Did he die? Was he crushed? Knowing our luck, no, but a girl can hope, right?

Dazai clicked his tongue. Was he upset? Why? Because we couldn’t talk with the creepy guy anymore? Geez. Priorities man. I tugged at his sleeve, intent on leaving whether this was real or not. Not trying to burn alive, thank you.

“Dazai…! Come on,” I pleaded, all too eager to get away from the horrible, rancid room.

At first he wouldn’t budge, merely staring where the man once was. For a second I thought I’d have to drag him out only for him to let out a sigh before letting me tug him out the door. Thank God. Now to get the heck out of here before the building collapses. Something imminent given how rundown the place was. Where were we? Yokohama? But it felt…different. Oddly, more like somewhere in my world, or, rather country. But that’s impossible. We couldn’t have been taken so far, right? This was all just some small scuffle, right? It couldn’t possibly be something more.

Right?

We darted down the halls, catching glimpses of corpses in various states of decay. Lord… What was this place? A slaughterhouse? It bore some hospital elements like cots and machinery, but they were all in disrepair and ancient in appearances. A rundown hospital? But why were we here? Why hasn’t anyone investigated and shut down this place - heck, clean it up for that matter? Or maybe… Was this what Dazai meant? Was he not referring to the fire but instead the building itself?

Suddenly the ground beneath me splintered, creating a large gaping hole that easily pulled me in. Geez, not this again…! I screamed, bracing myself for the blackness. Yet before it could completely consume me, Dazai’s voice yelled out my name – quickly followed by his hand latching onto mine. It was so jarring that I gasped as he pulled me into his chest, holding me tight as we plummeted into the abyss that ended up far smaller than appearances gave it credit.

By some weird twist of logic, the ground hit our sides to the extent I almost thought I dislocated my shoulder only for the tumultuous tumbling down sideways in a different direction to jumble any and all thoughts even as we came to a stop. Everything hurt, and the weight of Dazai on top of me once more failed to help the sparse breathes I pulled in. By the way he groaned, he didn’t fare much better.

Not real, huh? I’m quickly losing faith in that theory. This felt all too real.

Or perhaps insane as I pried open an eye to be met with…snow? I blinked, staring dumbfounded at the sight only for the striking cold to pull me back to reality or whatever this was. My dress. It was still very much torn open and once more pressed my skin against Dazai. Geez. Welcome back mortification. You surely didn’t take long to return.

“G-Get off of me!” I stammered, pushing Dazai off and scrambling to pull together the halves and somewhat conceal my underwear from his view.

The brunette blinked, mind probably reeling as bad as mine from everything only to settle as he stared unabashedly at me. Does he really have no shame? Geez! My cheeks felt like they were on fire as I turned away from him to salvage what little remained of my modesty.

“Don’t-don’t look!”

Silence followed briefly before Dazai let out a small chuckle, one I’d almost snapped at if not for catching the faint pink dusting his cheeks as he scratched the back of his head almost awkwardly, “Ah, that’s right. Anyone would be embarrassed by that, huh? Still, after our initial meeting I’d have thought you’d be a little less timid.”

“What?” I said without thinking, face growing hotter as I glared weakly at him, “Why on Earth would you think that? This is nothing like that time! And even then, why would that make me anywhere near comfortable having you see me naked?”

“Naked?” Dazai blinked, proceeding to audaciously peer where I could not fully pull together the two halves of my poor dress, “But you’re not naked. See? You’re bra and underwear are still perfectly intact-”

“Ah! Cut it out! Stop staring at me like some pervert!” I squealed, turning fully and burying my face in my hands.

The previous jarring cold felt distant in the wake of my mortification. Seriously, did this guy have no decency? At the very least he could’ve said something more reassuring. Not “Oh your under garments are showing and yes I see them clearly”. Geez. How tactless. Thought the guy had a silver tongue, not a blunt one. Would have to keep that in mind whenever we talked in the fu-

Wait. Talked?

Realization hit like a pile of bricks as I turned, meeting Dazai’s wide eyes that mirrored mine. No. No freaking way. This is some sick joke. It’s not possible, and yet…

“Can…Can you understand me?”

“Loud and clear…” Dazai answered just as surprised as I felt.

After weeks of learning the language, did it all finally click? But we spoke words that couldn’t possible pop up in normal conversations. Indeed, now that I think about it, his conversation with that guy was strikingly clear. Had the internal translator finally kicked in? But why? Shock? Hysteria? Dumb luck? Not that I was ungrateful, just… Why now?

Nevertheless, the silence hanging in the room dragged on as, ironically, we were at a loss for words.

Notes:

Let me just say, 2019 is not kind to me in the least. But hey, we're almost done with this year, and for once I can't wait to start a new one. Was originally going to post two chapters but life happened. May end up posting the second one later, if not by next week. It is a longer one and actually the only really happy one for the next, er, lot of chapters. Let's just say Violet is in for her own 2019.

@seneca: Haha aww hopefully a good stress relief. I know exam life and the joys of finals and entrance exams and all the lovely madness that comes with them. I wish you the best ♥
Lol, well certainly not for a while yet. Although, reading this while writing the next chapter, they do have a moment but it is far from what I'd call an "ordinary date". Hmmm, it does, doesn't it? Honestly all the guesses are very very entertaining (not to mention really creative in some ways to the point I considered altering things to fit those thoughts) and make me want to prolong this mini arc, but don't worry, all will be revealed soon c;

@MisuSan: Aww, thank you ♥ Hope this chapter pleases you and am glad to say the next one should not be more than a week if 2019 decides to give me a small break

Until next time~

Chapter 45: Light in the Darkness

Summary:

Even the smallest of lights pierce the darkness.

Silence fell, calmly complimenting the white flakes drifting outside the window – or, rather, opening in the concrete walls beside us. Snow. How was that possible? I was just in summer heat not fifteen or so minutes ago and the seasons randomly change? Hell, not even that. Two seconds ago we were in some horror movie hospital. How was it possible we were here? Nothing made sense.

And yet at that moment, those concerns may as well be on the other side of the world as I stared into Dazai’s dumbfounded eyes. A mutual feeling of shock enveloped us both – rendering us mute. Ironic given how, at long freaking last, I could understand him perfectly. Right when we could finally speak without charades or pictures, no words came.

Well, not until a cold breeze brought me back to the reality that my torn dress was still very much in plain sight.

My cheeks burned away the ice, and I swiftly turned away, “Stop-Stop staring!”

Geez. Of all people, why Dazai? I mean, it could be worse, and yet… Ugh. This was so freaking stereotypical and mortifying and just can I wake up? This had to be some dream, right? Dazai said none of this was real, so please? Can we just not? A chilly gale swept through the area, once again freezing over my skin. As if things weren’t bad enough already, now I’m going to freeze to death. Peachy. Just peachy.

Shivers quickly shook my form, aggravating each and every cut and bruise and sore spot in my body. Geez. I really don’t like the cold. Correction: I love the cold, but only when it entails wearing more than a summer dress that is practically cut in half. Geez… Could it get any worse than this?

Much to my surprise, the world didn’t leap to prove me wrong. Rather, the opposite occurred as something warm draped across my shoulders. Huh? I opened my eyes to find Dazai’s tan coat buffering the wind – the man giving a small smile as he knelt behind me. He was…giving me his coat?

“Won’t you be cold?” I said without much thought, warmth returning to my cheeks at his chuckle.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, what sort of gentleman would I be if I let a pretty young lady walk around with a torn dress?”

A huff left my lips in a white cloud. Numerous counters rose – ranging from tormenting Kunikida to slacking off in his job. Still, I suppose in the end things worked out for the best. Although that didn’t necessarily help his statement. Though, did that really matter? A man with a dark past and a bad boy streak was kind of attractive… Wait. No! Stop it!

Shaking away the thoughts, I slipped my arms through the sleeves and quickly bound the belt so the coat became a quasi-dress. It didn’t spare my legs from the chill but at the very least it took the edge off things. Not to mention let me move without fear of Dazai seeing me completely bare and in my underwear. Well, more than he already had by this point.

Turning back, I observed the structure. It looked like yet another abandoned building – this one fortunately void of grime and blood and corpses. Indeed, it gave off more of an uncomplete project than discarded relic.

“Where are we now?” I asked, hoping that Dazai being who he is would somehow know. This didn’t look anything like the forest I woke up in or the horrid hospital.

He directed his gaze outside into the darkness only broken by a constant flurry of snow, “Well, we’re definitely not in Kansas.”

Huh? “Did you just reference…The Wizard of Oz?” I blinked, “I mean, I know it’s a pretty popular film, but even then it’s surprising to see someone from a different country reference it.” Not to mention I was fairly certain it’d wind up being an ability instead of its traditional medium.

“Oh? So you are American after all,” he smiled wryly.

“Technically British by birth, but yes I did spend a few years in the United States.”

“Is that so? In that case, you should be surprised to know the reference as well, right?”

“Well, you’re not completely wrong. I guess I meant that I was surprised that you saw it more than anything,” I shifting to my feet. His coat definitely helped but the cold was piercing and sitting on the concrete didn’t help.

Dazai raised a brow, prompting me to add, “I don’t know, it just didn’t really seem like your genre.”

His smile widened, gaining notes of amusement as he asked, “Oh? And what do you think my type of movie is?”

My cheeks warmed at what his question implicated. Crap, was I judging him? Putting him in some stereotype? Geez. And now there’s no way out without looking like an idiot or douche.

Averting my gaze, I stammered, “I-I don’t know. Documentaries? Something a bit more on the lines of realism than fantasy?”

Geez. I was definitely judging now. Nonfiction? Documentaries? It fit perfectly with my image of him growing up under Mori. Perhaps he actually did watch them, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed them. Heck, given his distaste and cringe every time Mori entered the picture he probably hated them. And here I was naively assuming he watched them for pleasure. Just great…

A weight descended on my head, effectively pulling me from my thoughts to look at Dazai who chuckled while ruffling my hair, “I suppose I cannot blame you for thinking that. Still, there are tons of movies better than those drawl documentaries. Perhaps when we get out of here I’ll show you some.”

My heart skipped a beat and I think my face caught fire once more. Was he implying a…date? Just the two of us? Or were Atsushi and Kyouka and the others going to come with? Did I want that? Or would going alone be better? Were we even going to go to a theatre or spend it at home – at his place? At night or- Wait.

No, no, no! Now is not the time to get lost in stupid fantasies that will likely remain just that. No. We had more pressing matters to attend to, like figuring out where the heck we were and why we kept jumping around the globe. Definitely not what I should wear when we got out or what I should do if it turned into something more…

Heat seared my cheeks and I quickly looked away to his amused simper as he mercifully pulled away to once more look out the glass-less window. At least one of us remained focused. Wish I could say it was me. Still, I glanced outside. How could he even see anything? It was like looking into inky water with specs of dust making things all that more strenuous to try to defog.

“Hmm?” he raised a brow, “An…amusement park?”

He actually saw something? I suppose he worked for Port Mafia for a few years so it’d only be expected that his night vision was better than usual…. Crap, was I making more groundless assumptions?

Still… I moved beside him to attempt to see what he did. Turns out it wasn’t that difficult. No surprise given the lights faintly glowing through the flurries. Indeed, I could even make out a sign that read-

“Roland Park?!” I gasped, leaning out the opening to the extent I think I may have worried him that I would jump as his hand flicked out to grab the coat’s belt only to awkwardly rest on my back when realizing I wasn’t at all interested in that. Kinda ironic given his obsession with death and the like… Wait. No. Geez. I really need to work on not doing this.

“Roland…Park?”

I met his frown, explaining even while my mind reeled, “Y-Yeah… It’s a local theme park close to where my uncle lives.”

“So some place in America or Britain.”

“No,” I frowned, returning my attention to the park, “I mean technically it is in America, just not the United States.” When he furrowed his brows I continued, “It’s in Canada, but if that’s true…. If we really are there… But that can’t be…”

Ugh, my head hurt. How could we be in Canada? It was practically on the other side of the world. It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense! I mean, how can we escape from a place that changed every time we crossed the threshold of a building or room? It was impossible. I thought knowing where we were would make things better, but it only made things that much worse.

What were we going to do? I bit my lip to keep any noises of distress or disappointment from escaping, turning away only to catch a glimpse of Dazai narrowing his eyes in that way that you know he’s realized something important. I waited for him to speak, but as the seconds ticked by and he remained silent, my already strained patience ran short.

On nothing but the strong urge to break the silence and maybe find some silver lining in his revelation, I brought my hand up and tugged on his hair. Wish I could’ve bopped him on the head but the guy was too tall to even think of doing that without something going wrong. Stinks, but I settled with the results of pulling his soft locks – easily gaining his attention once more.

“You know, the others may be fine with putting up with your silent epiphanies, but frankly I find them annoying. Especially when you leave revealing them to the end,” I frowned, letting go of his hair to cross my arms and demand, “So? Spit it out. What are you thinking right now?”

He blinked before breaking out into a small laugh, carnelian eyes glittering as he confessed, “Sorry Violet-chan. I’m so used to you being so quiet and cute with your drawings that I forgot that you can actually speak and understand me now. Getting annoyed after finally being able to hold conversations, I suppose it is reasonable.”

“Dazai…” I growled, fully intending on keeping him on track if he tried to veer from my point.

Apparently catching that, he added a tad more seriously, “I know where we are. This place, it’s-“

A deafening explosion cut him off. Out of reflex I jumped away from the window and into him. What was that? A bomb? Were we in some fight? A war? But how? This was freaking Canada! Why would anyone-?

Colorful lights illuminated the darkness and shone inside the stone building. Wait… Lights? I blinked, pushing away from Dazai and quickly approaching the window once more. It couldn’t be…

An explosion once more rocked the night air, or rather a bound of vibrant fireworks painted the sky. Fireworks. In the snow. Right beside Roland Park in an abandoned building… That’s it! I gasped. I knew where we were. This wasn’t Canada. At least not technically.

“Nothing here is real.”

Dazai’s words came back with stunning clarity. He was completely correct. This wasn’t real. And while the reality was far from reassuring and only made my head spin worse, the implications as of now flipped a switch in me. One I couldn’t ignore as a smile worked its way onto my face.

On pure instinct, I snatched his hand and pulled him after me. My heart began picking up pace, for once not out of terror or adrenaline. No. Blissful excitement buzzed along my skin as we darted into the stairwell and ascended them two at a time. Clarity brought unexpected happiness and an urge to once again dwell in something that left a lasting impression on my mind.

Seven long years passed since that moment and yet it rang clearly with each step we took – promising an unforgettable sight that I held the undeniable urge to share with the man behind me.

 

…

 

Thick tension filled the air, potent enough that he didn’t even need the tiger’s instincts to pick out. It wasn’t surprising. Although, to be honest, had one detail changed they likely wouldn’t have reacted so strongly so quickly. After all, Dazai was quite prone to disappearing without notice – as unfortunate as the habit was on Kunikida’s stress levels. Indeed, he thought the absence may have relieved them if only a little. Instead the opposite occurred in which the blonde was constantly interrupted by worries the bandaged man was up to no good.

Atsushi sighed, peering at the aforementioned blonde from the corner of his eyes. He indeed looked stressed, only this time with a much more understandable cause. Dazai going off the grid was one thing, but to take another… The teen frowned, returning his attention to where Yosano, Tanizaki, and Ranpo looked over files and surveillance of their last know location – a scrap of colorful fabric resting beside them twisting his gut.

Dazai and Violet were missing – disappearing seemingly without a trace. Well, aside from the scrap. Not as if that made things any better.

No. Things were bad, nearly to the point Atsushi wanted to cry. They only just defeated the Guild and overcame the nightmares that came with facing the group. And now, when they should’ve been resting and enjoying the quiet, another ominous case began. Worst of all, Violet was once more caught up in it. Bad luck? Or perhaps another person after her ability that undoubtedly improved over the past few days? Either way, he pitied the blonde.

Out of all of them, she needed the peaceful time the most. And yet, to think where she could possibly be right now…

“Are you okay?”

Atsushi flinched, directing his gaze where Kyoka stood beside him with two steaming cups of tea in her hands. She offered one while settling in the spot beside him.

Gingerly taking it, he felt a wave of soberness rush over. That’s right. He was not the only one worried about them. Surely everyone in the Agency held the same concerns. Be that as it may, he scanned the room, finding nothing but active members doing everything they can in their spare time to aid in the search. They were all in this together. He couldn’t afford to merely sit and worry while everyone was working so hard.

“Thank you, Kyouka-chan,” he spoke softly, taking a sip and letting the warm, herbal scent soothe him before setting it down and asking, “Has Ranpo-san made any progress with the chemical found in the alleyway?”

The young girl shook her head, “It appears that the chemical is manufactured by an independent party. Ranpo-san said that even with his ability it will take some time to pinpoint the signature and then use it to locate the creator. As it stands our only solid lead, all we can do now is prepare and be ready when he does find the location.”

“I see…”

All they could do now was wait? While Dazai and Violet right now could be fighting for their lives or injured or… Atsushi grimaced, shaking away the horrible thought. No. He couldn’t let himself get overwhelmed by what-ifs. What would he do in a situation like this? What would Dazai do if their positions were swapped?

Slowly, resolve trickled in as he murmured, “Kyouka-chan, I-“

“Got it!” Ranpo’s proclamation cut through the bustling room, instantly rendering everyone silent as they hastily looked his way. For a moment, he expected the detective to go on a rant per his typical way of doing things, however none came. In fact, he remained quite serious. Did that mean Ranpo too was concerned for Dazai and Violet’s safety – to the point he didn’t waste time with theatrics?

“The chemical in the alley, it’s-“

“Xenon.”

Everyone blinked, including Ranpo whose attention shot toward the source, retort for his revelation getting cut short failing to come in the wake of Fukuzawa entering from the hall. Silence fell, skyrocketing the tension as Atsushi frowned, glancing back and forth between the two.

Naomi was the one to break the silence, “Xenon?”

“I see,” Yosano murmured, eyes widening as things began to fall into place, “It makes sense. Xenon is a noble gas – colorless and odorless, thus making it nearly impossible to detect. Furthermore, recent studies have advocated its use as an anesthesia. If Dazai and Violet were to come into contact with it, they would certainly not realize it until it was too late.”

“Exactly, and the fact that it is a natural gas made pinpointing it rather challenging, even for me,” Ranpo added with a frown, eyes still locked onto their leader and narrowing as he added, “But how did you figure it out, President?”

“Because it is not pure Xenon,” he replied simply, prompting the room to blink once more in disbelief.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Tanizaki questioned while Yosano swiftly approached Ranpo’s computer, gazing at the chemical before noting a faint structural change. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, “This is…”

“Tropane alkaloids, or more specifically, those found from the extract of the thornapple,” Fukuzawa answered, once more astounding the entire Agency.

Atsushi stared at him in amazement. Sure, he knew their leader was not one to be underestimated, but to think he knew such intimate medical knowledge – to the point even Yosano gave an impressed look. No. He hesitated, returning his attention to the doctor. That wasn’t awe, it was much darker. Like she was recalling a nightmare or-

“How do you know all of this?” the doctor spoke mechanically, almost as if she already knew the answer. Indeed, Fukuzawa met her gaze silently for a few moments before taking a breath and addressing the entire room.

“Before the Agency was founded, an exceedingly similar compound was linked to a certain incident. It has long since been dealt with – or so was thought until this point. Recognizing the pattern, I contacted the sole person alive from the past case and he has agreed to consult on matters.”

An urge to sigh in relief welled up in the young teen yet quickly died at the hesitation in his leader’s grim features. What was it? Why did he look so uneasy? Was it the contact? Who was it? Who could possibly prompt such a reaction – one he’d never seen- No. Atsushi stiffened. The contact, it couldn’t be…

Sensing his realization, Kyouka imparted a sidelong glance at the teen shifting closer to offer some meager support as they listened as Fukuzawa continued, “He will be calling in the next few minutes. Ranpo,” the named frowned yet stood nonetheless, “as well as Kunikida, Atsushi, Kyouka, Kenji, and Tanizaki, please meet in the conference room before then.”

With that said, he turned to leave only for Yosano to stop him, speaking in a hushed tone he unwittingly picked up thanks to the tiger’s hearing, “I’m coming to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. This is Violet and Dazai’s safety we’re talking about. I don’t have the luxury to hide away in a different room and get the information second-handed.”

“Are you coming?” Atsushi was pulled from their conversation as Kyouka gazed down at him.

Questions flooded his mind, including the second meaning behind the pair’s hushed conversation. Be that as it may, he let it slip to the back of his mind as he followed the young girl to the specified room. Once everyone was gathered, along with a couple others – namely Naomi and Haruno who insisted upon attending – the room’s lights were dimmed and the screen lowered, presenting a blank screen as they waited only a few moments until a call came in.

The number was unlisted, something that only ruffled his nerves more as they screamed in support of his theory. The consultant, the one whom Fukuzawa made such an uneasy expression, the one who would have sufficient medical knowledge on the chemicals and their properties, the one who undoubtedly held ulterior motives in helping them… It was…

“Hello, Detective Agency.”

Atsushi stiffened, hating the dread that overtook him and Kyouka who took in a small gasp while gripping his sleeve tightly as they met the cunning magenta eyes of the person on the other side. A figure who held the power to control the entire city. Someone who led the most powerful group in Yokohama. A man he’d met almost as if by accident. A person rightfully to be wary of as Fukuzawa frowned from his seat.

They could only pray that this risk would pay off. After all, he was now their only solid lead in locating the pair before time ran out.

Mori Ougai smiled in amusement, his lips curling as he tilted his head almost demeaningly while speaking, “I hear you’ve gotten yourselves into quite the predicament.”

 

…

 

Echoes of their footsteps resounded around them, sharp and distinct in the quiet night air. Surely enough that anyone in the area could discern it. They were giving away their positions – racing to the top of a building, a perfect corner to be backed into. And yet, in spite of all of the warning signs fueled by the past few hours alone, he allowed himself to be pulled along by the blonde.

After all, none of this was actually real. Indeed, with each step his theory gained credence. Even Violet appeared to come to the same conclusion – the familiarity and excitement in her olive eyes speaking volumes. And why not? This was obviously a fond memory of hers.

One they found themselves in the middle of, just like everything else in this place – a place created by the amalgamation of memories.

And yet that revelation only led to more questions. How did they come to this place? It couldn’t be an ability or his mere presence would nullify it. Could this be another ability that contradicted his? Like the Guild’s sea monster, or Violet’s prophecies? How many were there actually? And what caused them to rise above others to the point they ignored his ability?

More concerning, however, was the silvery-eyed man. The one who sat complacently in the midst of grime and gruesome sights like a person in some café. Could he be accustomed to it all? Was he the one behind everything? What did he want? Something from them, or perhaps the satisfaction of toying with others? But that still didn’t explain how all of this was occurring – how he knew their memories well enough to replicate them with startling clarity.

A rush of cold air hit his skin as they reached the top, instantly met with a flurry of snow and boom of colorful fireworks in the sky above. His senses registered them clearly as if he was actually there that night. It played with his resolve, planting seeds of doubt even as he was certain in his conclusion of the identity of this place. Everything just felt so real. If this truly was an ability, it was highly impressive and all the more dangerous.

Especially as Violet quickly found herself swept up in the euphoria, gazing in awe at the snow speckled sky alit with colorful displays of merriment. An emotion that was so potent he felt it buzz along his skin as he joined her in staring at the wonderful display. He always did enjoy fireworks and their fleeting beauty.

Their cloudy breaths mixed together as they joined the brilliant sight, gaining notes of red and blue and gold and purple. Colors surrounded them, reflecting off the snow and giving the illusion that they were in the midst of the burning ashes. It truly was a sight to behold.

“I used to come up here all the time to watch the fireworks. I thought after a time they’d become mundane, but that never happened,” Violet said while leaning against the stone barrier.

Olive eyes sparkled, reflecting the display above, and yet his gaze flickered to her radiant form – hair speckled with snow and a child-like awe lighting her features. He could practically see her memories, glimpses of a younger Violet bundled up to see the sight above them. To think he could witness something so important to her…

Dazai smiled, basking in the moment. It couldn’t possibly last long. No. They were certain to encounter that man once more. He would certainly try to attack them again, meaning this might be the only good thing they found here. Good… Could it be that he was after Violet? It explained why he let them see this memory of hers – to lull them into complacency before attacking. His nerves bristled at the thought. Could this be a set up?

Unease mingled with the infectious joy radiating from the blonde, confounding his senses. What was the best thing to do in this situation? Before he could figure anything out, he was once more swept up by the blonde and her infectious excitement.

“Come on, come on!” she tugged his arm, having to lean on her heels to gain any momentum.

Whimsical giggles filled his ears, his feet stumbling slightly as he followed her and found himself swept up further into her light – doubts and concerns melting in her presence. Violet smiled purely, guiding him into a dance that consisted mainly of them spinning around and using the inertia to gain small bursts of weightlessness. Snow flecked her hair like a delicate veil, casting shimmers in the moonlight and colorful prisms with each firework exploding in the distance.

He gave into her joy and wonder far easier than before. Why? Was this another effect of whatever allowed him to feel her emotions? Or perhaps it was because this memory was that potent? Still…. It didn’t feel bad. Not at all. So was it that wrong to give in when he felt lighter than he had for years? Than probably ever in his life?

Letting the light fold around him, Dazai grinned and spun faster. His actions prompted a fit of surprised giggles that sounded a wonderful melody in his ears. Every so often, their feet would stumble from the momentum, Violet giving a soft gasp while chiding they were going to fall at this rate. Nevertheless, by the humorous glint in her olive eyes he knew even that possibility was a weak blow to her emotional high.

They spun and danced for what felt like hours but couldn’t be more than a few minutes until both collapsed onto the ground in fits of giggles – their hair sprayed out like crowns that melded together in a dark chocolate, halcyon mix. Dazai’s chest rose and fell, breaths coming in puffy clouds from his mouth to join the starry sky above. His heart beat steadily, and for the first time in as long as he can remember he felt good.

He felt alive.

Exhaling deeply, he turned his head to gaze at the blonde whose staggered breathing was dotted with lingering chuckles – her eyes closed and rimmed with gleeful tears. She appeared to radiate with life and halcyon serenity. A gentle, tantalizing light that wound around him and threatened to ensnare him for as long as he remained by her like this. A part of him warned against drowning in that light, perhaps instincts from his time in the darkness?

A gentle smile descended on his lips, eyes going half-lidded as Dazai watched her softly descend from their high. His gaze flickered to her delicate lips, parted to taken in cool air and release wispy clouds. An urge to feel them against his bubbled up within him – to bask in that light to the fullest. To feel her against him – her soft skin brushing like a spring breeze against his…

Caught in the dream, Dazai’s hand inched closer to hers, his heart fluttering at another fit of giggles from her. An innocent action that set off a cold burst inside him. Were these his feelings? Or Violet’s? His form shook, hungering for that solace and light, and yet… Dazai retracted his hand.

Would doing so destroy her? Was it really a wise idea? Sure, he threw those thoughts to the wind with so many others – easily taking what was foolishly offered to him. But Violet… She was different. Someone who trusted him no matter what. Someone who saw his less attractive side but remained by him regardless.

Someone who let him experience this albeit fleeting peace.

White clouds escaped his lips, momentarily obscuring her form. Perhaps it was best to simply remain afar. To watch over her and pray she found happiness in the end. That when that time came she would be with one she deserved – someone who cherished her.

A person he faintly hoped he held a small chance of becoming.

Notes:

A day late but marathon of a chapter, so hopefully makes up for things. I think I might continue with longer chapters just cause I don't want this arc to last too terribly long. At any rate, welcome to the last happy chapter for a while.

@MisuSan: Aww thank you ♥ And yes, 44 chapters later the translator finally kicks in. Pretty much sums how much of a slow burn this series is. Aww, thank you. This week was a bit kinder to me so yay baby steps c:

Until next time~

*edit:
So yeah I posted this while delirious from sleep and it just now occurred to me that not everyone may be familiar with some of the medical terms used in this chapter. Let me clarify (and profusely apologize)

Xenon: The 54th element in the periodic table of elements; a noble gas that is more commonly known to be inside some lights but also for anesthesia. However, due to its expensive costs, it is not a common anesthetic although there are actually recent studies in lowering the cost through recycling efforts and its more ecofriendly nature as opposed to other anesthetics like halothane.

Thornapple: aka Datura Stramonium or moon flower or Jamestown weed; a type of plant (or as many in my area call: a weed) from the nightshade family that, when ingested may cause hallucinations by containing tropane alkaloids (a naturally occurring compound in the plant).

Hope that clarifies a few things alongside the subtle hint that Fukuzawa knew about the terms because he spoke with Mori beforehand (sort of like the cliche scene where the person mimics another who knows more since they don't know how to begin to explain things in their own words).

Chapter 46: Project Zwei

Summary:

The possession of a wicked man is better than the one abused by the righteous.

(aka welcome to the longest chapter I've ever written)

“So, what now?”

Snow crunched underfoot as we walked aimlessly around the lake beside Roland Park. A quiet peace that long since embedded itself into my memory. Not surprising given this apparently was my memory. Yeah. Confusing much. At least Dazai’s explanation helped clear a few things, Not much, but it was nice to know we were relatively on the same page and he wasn’t just 26 pages ahead like usual.

Although, maybe that wasn’t so good. I mean, we were in some weird amalgamation of memories – a product of some ability that resisted Dazai’s or something. I mean, what else could it be? A weird simultaneous hallucination? Were we just running around Yokohama, high off of some drug? But what? How did it even get into our system? Unless… Could it be the gas? But we covered our mouths. Maybe it was absorbed through our skin?

Whatever the case, we were here, there, somewhere now. And as much as I’d like to know how, I wanted out and back into sanity more.

“Don’t know. Stroll down another memory lane?” he said casually, elbows pointed to the sky and hands clasped behind his head, “Maybe one of your first Halloweens?”

The sly smirk on his features spoke nothing good, so I proceeded a tad hesitantly, “Halloween? What, do you think I wore some weird costume or something?”

“Hmm? Nothing of the sort! I bet you were an adorable little pumpkin or kitten,” Dazai replied innocently, despite the glint in his eyes and implications that left me blushing furiously.

“Absolutely not! And why does it have to be one of my memories? I bet you have some endearing moments too. I mean, a little vampire Dazai or werewolf Dazai? I’d much rather see that.”

“Oh? Well, I was a rather cute child myself.”

This guy. Lighthearted bubbles rose and only grew upon meeting his impish smile. It was nice, hearing him speak so easily. Sure, it could all be a ploy to distract from the truth, yet I held some hope that it wasn’t. That somehow, someway, some part of his past was not covered in blood and darkness and death and misery.

Dazai’s chuckle mixed with the one that fell from my lips as I exhaled, “I bet you were. Although whenever I try imagining you in any relation to Halloween, the image of you relentlessly teasing Chuuya comes to mind.”

A cross between a scowl and smirk formed on his features as Dazai gazed up in thought, “Ahh, those were the days…”

“Poor guy. You really pull out all the stops when it comes to him. Did you ever think of giving him a break?”

“Nope,” he replied way too quickly, adding upon the frown tugging at my lips, “What? It’s “trick or treat”, right? Tricking Chuuya is my treat.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Really? That’s news to me.”

“You…” I lightly bumped shoulders with him. Maybe I’d pay Chuuya a visit and apologize for everything Dazai put him through – bring a couple of wine bottles while I’m at it. They wouldn’t be near his super expensive ones but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?

Shaking my head, I glanced up at the building rising through the trees. A cathedral, and a rather archaic one at that. Certainly none that existed in my memory. It was beautiful in an almost haunting way, probably because of the moonlight. I’m sure it was gorgeous at sunrise or sunset though.

Coming to a stop, I asked, “So, Chuuya or Mori?”

“Eh?” Dazai blinked, confusion coating his features in a cute manner.

“Chuuya or Mori,” I repeated, “As in France or Germany, as I’m sure you’d want to have some sort of translator when you visited.” When he continued to blink, I frowned, “What? Mori can understand at least some German, and Chuuya French. Are you telling me that you didn’t know and went alone?”

Or… Could it be that only their counterparts in my reality were multilingual? Crap. Did I mess up? I mean, it couldn’t hurt that much to tell him. Right?

“I see, that is rather interesting…” Dazai’s features at last returned to a lopsided smile, “Although I don’t know why it matters who I chose especially considering I already have my own cute bilingual.”

Fire seared my cheeks as I stammered, “Cut-Cut it out. I mean the church genius. Is it from Germany or France or somewhere else?”

“Well, I can’t say for certain but given the architecture-”

“Wait, what?” I cut him off, “You mean this isn’t your memory?”

“No. And neither is it yours,” he answered simply, gazing at the doors and narrowing his eyes slightly, “Which means it belongs to someone else.”

“Someone else’s…memory…?” numbly I followed his gaze, “How many memories make up this place? And more importantly…”

Where were all the people whose memories we witnessed? Why was this place so empty, so void of others aside from the two of us?

No.

A horrid chill seized every muscle in my body. We weren’t alone. Not entirely. Those hunters were also here, as well as that silver-eyed person. The one who set the abandoned building on fire. The one who made everything go insane.

Was this perhaps his memory?

A warm hand enveloped mine, releasing me from my thoughts to find I was trembling slightly, Dazai giving a sympathetic look, “For places that are supposedly sanctuaries, churches do not seem like very fond places for you as of late.”

You could say that again. Hopefully the trend ended here, cause besides last time, I really enjoyed visiting old churches and relishing in their peaceful aura and beautiful stained glass. Unfortunately, given a certain rat’s penchant for religious locations, I’d have to avoid the hell out of them from here on. Kinda ironic, really. Always thought churches and sacred grounds repelled demons.

“Yeah, let’s just get this over with,” I breathed, squeezing his hand before stepping forward. My heart pounded more with each step; to the point I thought it’d jump out of my throat by the time we reached the doors and pushed them open.

The combination of our nerves (well, let’s be honest, it was mainly my nerves) was enough to explode at the tiniest of triggers. Alas, aside from flurries entering the dusty, cobwebbed building, nothing happened. An empty, abandoned church. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yeah. If only.

Dazai stepped forward with more than twice the confidence I possessed as I trailed closely behind. The place was…nice, but in an odd sort of way. Not quite welcoming but not screaming horror movie. Almost as if it was caught somewhere in between – in a state of just…uneasiness that the silvery moonlight aided in a bit. Worn dusty pews stretched out in about ten or eleven rows, leaving a good gap between the last one and the stone altar two steps above the ground. Nothing really stood out. There was an altar with a gray, dusty cloth, a statue of who I assume to be Mary, some crosses and unlit candles here and there, stone pillars, tapestries and modest glass windows. Honestly, the only thing missing was the stained glass. Shame given it was one of the attributes of churches that drew me to them the most.

We walked down the aisle, taking it all in. After a moment, I felt my nerves relax the tiniest of bits. A horrid mistake as, not even a second later, as we crossed the halfway point, an ominous creaking started up. Instantly we stopped, instincts bristling.

“What is that?” I asked, hoping Dazai knew as I shifted closer. Where was it coming from? To the left? Right? Above us? No.

My heart dropped faster than my gaze to the floor, Dazai only a few moments ahead of me as we realized the same thing. The noise was coming from beneath us, all in all spelling nothing good. Not wasting a second, he tugged us forward and made a b-line for the altar. Mere seconds later, all hell broke loose as the entire building shook violently to the point we nearly lost our footing.

An earthquake? Impossible, this was freaking Canada or Germany or whatever, there’s no way-! Wait. No. Of course this is possible. Nothing here made sense. Everything was fake, a memory, an illusion – one sadly real enough to feel pain as the windows around us shattered inwards and showered us in sharp glass.

A scream echoed through the cathedral, and it took a second to register it was mine as the pillars cracked like explosions, items flew around in a whirlwind, and the ceiling began falling apart. By nothing less than a miracle we managed to stumble our way to the altar. But what now? The place was minutes from falling apart, and the only door-

Before the thought could finish, Dazai veered left. My heart skipped a beat. What was he-? Ah! A barely noticeable door hidden behind candles and an ornate tapestry came into view. Did he see this from all the way back there? Dang. Perks of eagle eyes.

Without hesitation, we burst through. In hindsight it was a bit reckless. I mean, who knows what lay on the other side – more so given the manic place we found ourselves in. Still, I suppose it beat getting crushed by tons of concrete and sharp glass. Shame it wasn’t better by much as we stumbled into what appeared to be some sort of marketplace courtyard.

One covered in searing flames that immediately had us surrounded.

Out of instinct, I turned to pull us back through the door only for a stall to collapse mere inches from me – sending sparks and embers up into my face. Minute burns singed my skin and I recoiled as Dazai gasped, “Violet-chan!”

“I- I’m okay…!” Well, for the most part. I think a piece of ash got in my eye cause it stung and I couldn’t open my it without tearing up profusely.

He looked like he wanted to argue but relented. Good. We had more things to worry about than my eye. Like how we were supposed to escape this inferno. Something that grew eons harder as a gust of wind brought the fire roaring louder and fiercer. Swiftly, it consumed the few smoldering stalls, cutting off almost all routes of escape.

We needed out fast. But where? Everything was covered in flames. There was no path to take- Wait. My eye locked onto a miracle – a narrow path that began smoldering. It wasn’t perfect and we’d have to go single file, but it was an option. One I hastily took perhaps a bit too easily as barely seconds after I rushed down it, a sickening tug and snap against my ankle preceded sharp arrows darting directly my way.

What the hell? I gasped, closing my eyes and awaiting the inevitable only for Dazai to snatch my wrist and pull me back a little too late as one sliced my arm. It hurt like hell, but I suppose it was better than becoming a human pin-cushion.

“Careful,” his voice sounded surprisingly calm in the midst of the roaring fire and my pounding heart, “It would seem that our host is not very hospitable.”

Yeah. Setting fire to the world and hiding malicious traps kinda gave that away.

“We need to proceed carefully. I’ll bet there are more traps ahead,” he finished, scooting carefully around until coming in front. Smart. If anyone could spot something minute and anticipate where this guy put his traps, it was Dazai. Not to totally disregard my own observational skills, just that Dazai’s were far better.

Something that once more proved invaluable as we continued in a brisk walk. With the fire gaining volume and breadth, it was unnerving as all hell, but in order to avoid any other traps (many of which Dazai purposely set off and proved to grow more and more insane and gruesome – one even including a statue brutally impaling the ground where we could have been) we needed to go forward cautiously.

Even then, this was insane! Why did this host person want to kill us? What’d we ever do to him? Or, rather, what did I do? I mean, this wasn’t cannon by any means. Which meant I had to have influenced it somehow. But who the heck did I tick off to the extent of this brutality? Surely I would’ve remembered, but the only thing I could think of was perhaps accidentally cutting them off. Could they really be so petty as to go through all of this in revenge?

I bit my lip as we dashed forward, apparently reaching an area clear of traps. Was this really all my fault? Had I dragged Dazai into another mess?

Without warning, a sharp snapping sounded above us – a large beam falling to the ground. Dazai apparently calculated that we’d make it, but my hesitation screamed louder and slammed the breaks. Our hands tore apart milliseconds before the beam divided us, sending up a shower of embers into the smoky air. 

“Violet-chan!” Dazai called urgently, initial alarm sharpening into determination as he reached out, “Jump across! The flames are not that severe, you should be able to make it through.”

Of course. I trusted him enough to believe him instantly, and yet the weight of my guilt and hesitation sent me teetering back. A flash of confusion crossed his carnelian eyes, one that hurt as it registered more as pain in mine. Was it really okay for me to stay with him? I’d only attract more danger. I’d get him into more trouble. I’d cause him to get hurt…

“Violet-chan,” his voice pulled my attention back, somehow blowing away everything else as I met his stoic gaze, “We will be okay, both of us.”

Huh? Could he have predicted what I was thinking? Please, this was Dazai. It was fully in the realm of possibilities. And yet...

“But…” I grimaced, unable to fully believe him. Ironic and super badly timed as the flames and heat continued to grow exponentially to the point it felt like I was getting sunburned.

“I don’t lie in these situations. Surely you know that, right?”

His words hit me like a splash of cold water. Dazai always had a plan – a way for things to work out. And while I couldn’t shake the shame of getting him into this mess, my heart skipped a beat at the promise that even then he would get us out of this safely. Or as much as he could as I took a small breath and nodded, earning a small smile from him.

“Okay then, come on,” he reached out, ready to grab my hand the moment it came within range.

My heart pounded. I was literally about to jump through a wall of flames. Hopefully it’d be the same as quickly pulling your finger through the flame of a candle. Yeah. It’d be like that. No worries. Just breath and jump quickly.

Forcing my legs forward before my brain could scream how ridiculous this was, I raced toward the beam and jumped. The heat instantly had me regretting my actions, yet just as quickly as it went to consume me, Dazai’s hand plucked me from its jaws and into his chest. Perhaps a little too suddenly as he stumbled back and, apparently, into a lake concealed by the smoke and flames. Honestly, it was a stroke of luck.

Or so we thought until a pungent odor seared our noses and the oppressive heat disappeared instantly. Good gosh, what the heck is that smell? And why was it so cold? We opened our eyes to find the burning marketplace gone and in its place a collection of tunnels that could only be the sewers by the stench and scattering rats and roaches. Gross.

Dazai groaned, altering me to where he struggled to keep his head above the murky waters – a task I hindered by lying on top of him. Swiftly I jumped away, apologizing profusely, “S-Sorry! Are you alright?”

“Aside from a great need for a bath, yes,” he replied, groaning a little as he inspected his clothes, “I always imagined submersion being a wonderful way to achieve my ambitions, yet now find myself wholeheartedly disgusted by the idea.”

His humor brought some sorely needed lightness to the situation I was eternally grateful for as I offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet, “Well, I’ll make sure to remind you the next time you think about jumping into one of Yokohama’s canals.”

“Aww, how thoughtful of you,” he smiled purely, and despite the morbid topic my heart fluttered a little. Thankfully if he noticed he didn’t comment, instead turning his attention to the tunnels we found ourselves in.

One whose silence was broken by the steady sound of footsteps stirring the water. Amazing how quickly our lightheartedness turned to apprehension; Dazai shifting closer and just barely in front of me. It was endearing if not utterly unnerving. Who was it? Another maniac?

As much as I wanted to be surprised, the figure that materialized from the darkness – the man with the silver eyes. The one who set that building on fire. The one I held a sinking feeling was responsible for the marketplace inferno and our dizzying trip through wonderland.

“I would say this is a lovely place you have, but it would be rude of me to lie,” Dazai quipped sharply, features falling into that familiar confidence and scorn of the man who came to a stop a few paces away, regarding us with perhaps an ounce more interest than before.

“Well, considering I presumed you dead by this point, I will let that slide,” he responded casually.

Dazai’s smirk widened as if taunting him to try harder, making my heart plummet at the very realistic possibility. Indeed, it spurred me into addressing the man, “Who are you? And why are you trying to kill us? I think at the very least we deserve to know that much.”

His sharp eyes flicked over to mine, making me instantly regret his attention that pulled all the warning bells in my mind as he allowed a small, chilling smile to appear on his features, “Does an ant deserve to know why it was stepped on?”

Scratch that, this guy was an ass.

“Perhaps not, but don’t start crying when it bites you,” I snapped in a moment of bravado that prompted a small chuckle from Dazai, one that felt wholly relieving as the man narrowed his eyes in a not good manner.

“I will be sure to keep that in mind. In exchange for your wisdom, allow me to answer one of your questions.”

Instead of satisfaction, a cold dread chilled the entire area. Indeed, the hairs on my arms stood up. Just beyond the guy, I could’ve sworn the darkness moved. Impossible, I know. My eyes were playing tricks on me from all the stress. And yet my heart froze as the shifting continued – only worsening as they actually materialized into grotesque, distorted figures.

I never wished I was wrong so much in my life.

No words came, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. They were terrifying – straight from the Exorcism. And they stood by the man in a wholly not good way.

“My name is Icarus,” he replied with an air of superiority, obviously taking satisfaction from my peril, “And you, you are mine to do with as I please.”

On cue, one of the shadows darted forward – sharp claws ready to slice me in two. All I could do was stare dumbfounded at the turn of events, fear holding me still. It was a stupid reflex, one that was about to kill me.

Bang!

Without warning, an explosion ripped through the air, effectively shocking me out of my stupor to find the source: a smoking gun held by Dazai. Where’d he get that? Not that it mattered as it apparently worked on the ghoul demon thing. Adrenaline surged, and I was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Somehow Dazai retained his calm as he regarded Icarus with a cold glare.

“Sorry, but I don’t recall giving ourselves to anyone, especially some guy destined to burn in the sun,” he spoke calmly yet the bite was clear. Don’t know if it was smart to taunt the guy who controlled the shadow demons, but I suppose Dazai knew what he was doing. Or I sure hoped he did.

Icarus smirked, apparently not taking anything to heart, “Oh? What an interesting thought. Makes me want to see just how that mind of yours works.”

With that ominous sentence, the other demons attacked relentlessly. Just as quickly, Dazai shot at them – hitting each that came close with startling accuracy. Each shot was deafening, and created a burst of blinding light in the dim tunnel. It was terrifying and chaotic, all in all not good for my sanity or nerves. Fortunately, he kept them at bay. Almost easily really. Indeed, a small smile formed on his face like he was enjoying himself.

Shame it couldn’t continue as I caught a glimpse of Icarus, his silver eyes sharp even as he smirked and raised a hand. Uh oh. That couldn’t possibly be good. Especially as his gaze remained fixated on Dazai. As if he was about to shoot the bandaged man with a gun of his own. Indeed, his fixation was beginning to rub the wrong way and set off all the warning bells.

Panic skyrocketed, as I shouted in alarm, “Dazai, watch-!”

Before I could finish, something shot by my head, narrowly missing it. Unfortunately for Dazai, it hit the side of his directly, knocking him out instantly. I jumped, scream ripping from my throat as he deftly fell into the murky water. My heart stopped. No. No freaking way…

“D-Dazai!” I quickly jumped to pull him up, terrified at the conclusions that filled my mind at the blood beginning to streak down his face from a nasty gash.

Instantly my mind clicked into med-student mode – checking for signs of labored breathing – heck any breathing at all. Fortunately small breaths left him and, aside from the injury, he was relatively alright. Just knocked out and probably concussed. Better than dead, but given our current position, not good at all.

Icarus’ chuckle felt like nails scraping down a chalkboard, and I grudgingly looked up at him and the remaining demons slowly closing in on us. My heart pounded, recalling his creepy words – desires to pick at Dazai’s mind coming back with chilling clarity. What do I do? There’s no way I could fight them while keeping Dazai’s head above water. I needed a way out. I needed to run. But how?

By sheer chance, I glanced up at the iridescent light. An idea popped into my head, a horrible one that might just work. Heck, I didn’t even know if it would work on the shadow demons, but…

It was the only chance I had – a shot in the dark, literally as I scrambled to find Dazai’s gun as the demons approached. Where? Where was it?!

Suddenly my fingers brushed the barrel, and without hesitation I yanked it up, aimed for the light, and pulled the trigger. Instantly the tunnel filled with blinding light. Faintly I heard Icarus curse, but it was distant as I shoved Dazai down a connecting tunnel, following shortly after as we both fell further into this hell.

 

…

 

“The chemical Dazai-kun and Violet-chan were exposed to in that alley is a modified version of one created by an old colleague of mine by the name of Yokoyama Naoki.”

“Yokoyama Naoki?” Kunikida repeated with a frown, name not even remotely meaning anything to the room, Tanizaki murmuring absentmindedly, “A member of Port Mafia, perhaps?”

“No,” the teen flinched, color draining a bit from his face as Mori glanced his way, “We met long before I even held the faintest inclinations of even joining the Port Mafia, let alone leading it. Alas, that is beside the point. Although,” he tilted his head in an innocent manner that rubbed every bit the wrong way with his position, “Considering he is no longer in this world, it is curious.”

“So a copycat?” Atsushi proposed hesitantly.

“Unlikely.” They blinked, finding Ranpo answering instead of the Port Mafia Boss, “Given the complexity of it alone, it would be highly unlikely for someone to even attempt to replicate, let alone modify. By mere prerequisites, the person in question would need to be an expert in microbiology, chemistry, and psychology. It’s more probably that this Naoki faked his death.”

Silence befell them as they pondered his words, Mori’s light praise breaking it as he smiled at the detective, “Very impressive, I see why you are the core of the Agency, Ranpo-kun.”

Yosano and Fukuzawa shifted, Atsushi sensing their tension and disapproval of his attention on the young detective in a heartbeat. He didn’t blame them. The way he looked at them, how he addressed them… It all felt like being stared down by a rabid dog. No. It was worse. More cunning and vicious. Like that of bloodied wolf.

“Still, I can assure you Yokoyama-kun is dead. After all,” he smiled far too brightly for the words that left his lips, “I shot him myself.”

“What?” Kunikida hissed, the majority of the room either grimacing or scowling at the revelation, Yosano huffing under her breath, “I’d expect nothing less…”

Atsushi glanced at her, question bubbling at the forefront of his mind only to be pushed aside as Mori spoke easily, “Are you admonishing me for killing another? You do realize how foolish that sounds, right? Besides, if Yokoyama-kun’s research were to be allowed to continue, Yokohama, and quite possibly the entire world would be put in a perilous predicament. In that regard, his death was a necessity.”

A small, snakelike smile formed on his features as he finished, making Atsushi unconsciously shiver. It was so very similar to the one he’d witness Dazai make. Was it because they spent time together – because he was Dazai’s superior when he was in Port Mafia? Still, to bear such an uncanny resemblance… He didn’t like it one bit.

“At any rate, we don’t have time to discuss morals, right? You’d like to know where Yokoyama-kun’s old laboratory was. I have the location, right here,” he raised a small USB so they could see it, “Everything you need to know about the chemical and his research can be located on this device. Furthermore, if you insert it into that machine of his, you will be able to save Dazai-kun and Violet-chan.”

“Really?” Atsushi gasped before he could stop himself, Fukuzawa and Yosano glaring in suspicion Kunikida voiced, “Oh? And what is the catch?”

“You wound me. Is it so wrong of me to want to protect a former prodigy of mine and his lovely, intriguing associate?” Mori spoke with faux hurt, eyes glinting sharply as he added, “Rest assured, the safe return of both Agency members benefits us all – or, should I say, the safe return of an Agency member and an ally of the Agency?”

Atsushi bristled at the implication. Was he perhaps alluding to the fact that he wanted something from Violet? No. He clenched his fist, glaring resolutely at the man. He would not allow him to take her again.

If he noticed their vehemence at his taunt, he paid it no mind with all the experience of a man who received countless threats to his life on a daily basis. It was rather admirable if not unnerving as he spoke calmly, placing the device in an envelope and handing it to someone off-screen, “Whether or not you trust me is inconsequential. At the end of the day, you cannot locate Dazai-kun or Violet-chan without me – well, not in time that is.”

His ominous words made them tense as he continued, “Alas, my letter should reach you soon, from there the physical work I leave to you.”

“And you’ll just sit back and watch from afar?” Yosano questioned, barbed tone not going unnoticed as she glared at the man, “How typical of you.”

Mori regarded her stoically for a moment before answering, “While it pains me to stay here while Dazai-kun is in trouble, I assure you it is best this way. Besides, whoever said that I will merely sit and wait while you detectives do all the work?”

A knock sounded, startling them as Tanizaki answered, speaking briefly before returning with a grim look on his features and a familiar letter in his hands – the exact one Mori held not even ten minutes ago. Atsushi stared in amazement, grudgingly impressed at the speed and efficiency in which it arrived. Port Mafia was by far more formidable than they thought.

“Inside you will find two communicators linked directly to the one on my desk. You may use them to ask me any questions that come to mind when you infiltrate the lab,” Mori explained, to their unease, finishing with a cold look in his eyes, “Now, how about you cease doubting and start moving? At this rate I’m afraid something terrible may befall Dazai-kun and Violet-chan.”

Once more the tension in the room skyrocketed, barely improving as he smirked, “We’ll keep in touch. Good luck, Detective Agency.”

The screen cut to black in the next second, leaving them in a room filled to the brim with suspicion, uneasiness, and urgency. They couldn’t afford to doubt Mori if he was speaking the truth. Indeed, Ranpo pointed out as much as he addressed them.

“We should get moving like he said. Given the circumstances and what he gave us,” the detective’s emerald eyes landed on two of them, “Kunikida and Atsushi should be the ones to go.”

Atsushi flinched at his name while Kunikida calmly responded, “And what if he is the one behind all of this and we’re just playing into his hands?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, we have no choice but to listen. Fortunately, he wasn’t lying when he said he was concerned for Violet and Dazai. Unfortunately, that lends itself to the possibility he may just send Port Mafia to the location instead. If they really are there, then Port Mafia will undoubtedly take them. It’s something we cannot accept.”

His words weighed heavily on them as the room fell quiet once more before Kunikida took a deep breath and rose, “Come on Atsushi. Let’s get this over with.”

 

…

 

Dragging a body is a whole lot more strenuous than it looks in movies and T.V. shows. Probably because those were props or a stunt person who weighed half the amount of a normal person. Would they still be called a stunt person in that case?

Who knows? Either way by the time I dragged Dazai’s dead weight into a relatively safe area, I was out of breath. Who knew the skinny guy could be such a pain to drag around? Maybe drained adrenaline had something to do with that. Or I just overestimated my strength. Yeah, that sounds possible.

Still… Now what?

We were who knows where, and our only hope was for everyone at the Agency to notice us gone, which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon thanks to Dazai’s reputation. That or pray Mori actually spied on Dazai. Only I doubt the guy would move anytime soon unless he could twist it into a way in which Fukuzawa or Taneda owed him something.

Leaving us hopelessly lost in booby-trapped tunnels and chased by someone who literally wanted to poke Dazai’s brain. Oh, no. Wait. I meant leaving me and Dazai’s unconscious self hopelessly lost in bobby-trapped tunnels and chased by someone who literally wanted to poke his brain.

“Come on, wake up already…” I tried not to go into a full-on panic attack by nudging him. Yeah, like a feeble shake would somehow undo a concussion.

Nothing was waking him up for the foreseeable future, which left me with the monumental task of keeping both of us alive. Yeah. We were doomed.

Wait, no. No negative thoughts. All I had to do was stay alive and hide for a couple hours. That’s not hard. Heck, all those years of hide and seek and manhunt were about to pay off. Yeah. I could do this… No problem. Just haul Dazai over my shoulder and find a good hiding spot. Easy enough…

If only my throat wasn’t burning as bad as every muscle in my body.

Fortunately, things took a turn for the better. Thank God. After everything in the past few minutes alone, I could use some good luck. And the sight that met me was heavenly.

Water. Clean water. How sad is it that the mere presence of non-murky water made me want to cry?

I sped walked to the small reservoir, not questioning it at all (probably not the smartest in hindsight but completely understandable in the moment) as I gently lay Dazai down and scooped up handfuls. After downing a few gulps, I filled the remainder of Dazai’s flask and my bottle – souvenirs of the much better and sorely missed memory of Roland Park. At least now we didn’t have to worry about that for a while longer. As for the rest…

I glanced back at Dazai, cringing at how bloodied and dirty he was. We did tumble through probably eight thousand diseases and infections on our way here. All and all, not good for the massive gash on his forehead. And his overall health for that matter.

If he was going to live past this nightmare, he needed to bathe pronto. Ha. I say like I know we’re getting out alive. I mean we’d probably get out once he woke up, but until then things looked dismal. No. We were getting out. No way did I survive being hunted down and nearly burned alive to end up as some collateral damage.

Taking a breath, I stepped into the waters that were freaking icy. Guess it makes sense given we were apparently underground. But geez. I felt close to hypothermic. Fortunately it faded, along with the clarity as the gunk clinging to me quickly coated the small pond. Yeah, should’ve thought that through a little more… Heck, there were two other, albeit smaller, pools. We weren’t even going to be around long enough to need them anyways.

Going a few feet out so that Dazai wasn’t too far away (it’d be just my luck that some monster snatched him while I ventured too far), I inhaled. This was not going to be fun, but hopefully the same relief the cool waters had on my legs would also bless the rest of me. Closing my eyes, I let my legs cave in and send me beneath the surface.

For a moment it was as if everything stopped. All the horrors and pain and torment dissipated into the water along with the grime and blood. It left me feeling peaceful… Or, no. That’s not quite it. More like when you’re in a dream and just float there. Nothing really bothered me but I didn’t feel good or bad. Just there and aware of the cool pressure around me.

Burning from my lungs pulled me out of that limbo and I pushed back to the surface. What was that? Another trick from this horrid place? Gotta make sure not to let my guard down. As exhausting as it was to always be prepared, with Dazai out of commission for who knows how long, I needed to stay on my toes so we could escape alive. Was that why he was always so weary looking? Didn’t he have insomnia though? Gosh… What sort of hell did he go through day to day?

Make no mistake, I wanted Dazai awake pronto, and yet… Perhaps it was best he stay asleep. Maybe he couldn’t find peace in the normal world, but could in this world of memories. If that was the case, I wanted him to bask in that as long as he could. Sure, it sucked considering this world literally was trying to kill us and we were being hunted by a maniac, but for someone who constantly lived in a nightmare…

It was a hard dilemma, one that I could spare a few moments longer as I pulled him over my shoulder once more and slowly re-entered the cool waters. They might wake him, which honestly might be better given it’d let me assess the damage, but even if they didn’t it would do him some good to not get infected. Memory or not, I didn’t want to take the chance. Especially after mulling over what happened and getting a sickening realization that the one targeted here may not actually be me.

Instead, I was beginning to believe Dazai was the target. It made sense. Icarus was seemingly fixated on him in all our encounters – only really looking at me when I spoke or annoyed him. Not to mention his creepy comment about wanting to see how Dazai’s mind ticks. Still, why? Was he some mad scientist with a morbid curiosity? Did Dazai actually know him but block him out?

Regardless, things didn’t look promising and I once more found myself wishing for those carnelian eyes to open – to reassure me that everything would be alright. It was selfish, I know. But he always seemed to figure out these situations and held remarkable experience in them. I, on the other hand, was still very much a newbie.

One hopelessly lost and underground trying to make sure he didn’t get an infection I didn’t even know would actually affect him. No. This would help. I’m sure of it. Aside from the sanitation value, cleaning him would bring some psychological relief as well. Yes. This was the right thing to do. Washing Dazai was good. It was-

Completely embarrassing now that I think about it.

I stopped, mind unconvieniently recalling just how attractive I found him – especially now with his features softened. Of course the dried blood did no favors, but once it was off… Images of his cheery grin and us dancing on the rooftop flowed in, only now feeling completely mortifying as my cheeks warmed. We acted like a couple of people on a date – forgetting all about the world and the dangers we literally just escaped from. Indeed, all I recalled was a euphoric bliss of sharing the moment with him. With the man I came to know more and like. With the man who’d saved me multiple times. With the man I hoped to learn more about.

With the man who once kissed me in the moonlight.

My stomach literally did backflips, and I tried in vain to keep my cheeks from burning off. No! No! Stop thinking about that! This is just bathing him – simply washing off the gunk and preventing infection. Yes. Just that. Just that… Please. If only.  Bathing someone was intimate enough, but while they were asleep – when they were someone like Dazai, who even guys thought was attractive? Who I currently was unwrapping and seeing what either a hundred one-night stands or like three people have ever seen. Who was stripped near naked and resting on my bare legs.

Whose face was strikingly handsome and aweing at the same time.

Seriously, how do people like him do that? I brushed away his hair, lowering his head so that it was framed by the waters. It was like weaving my fingers through the softest fur imaginable. Again, how? This guy barely bathed as far as I knew. Maybe oily hair was a good conditioner? Or maybe he had hair like my sister who could go a week without a shower and still have non-oily hair?

It wasn’t fair. And yet I couldn’t stop my fingers from softly tugging on it and dislodging the clots and other debris tangled in it. Every so often our skin would brush, making me flinch. But even that faded as I grew entranced by the rhythmic sensation of rubbing away the grime and cleaning him. Embarrassingly enough not to even notice what most fans would froth over: the state of Dazai’s skin.

But did that truly matter? Did knowing whether he bore scars or not change the fact that he was so broken beyond repair? That he was filled with hopelessness hidden behind a carefully calculated smile?

That he was a beautifully, tragically human I adored?

Without warning, something latched onto my arm, making me jump and slosh the caramel water as I squeaked in terror. Of course there’d be some freaking monster in here. What an idiot! I should’ve-

Finally darting my eyes down at the source, I was met with…

“D-Dazai?” I stuttered. How long had he been awake? Oh God.

“I-I-I wasn’t doing anything, I swear!” I shouted, shoving him off my lap as if he was burning lava. Oh God. Oh God. He saw and likely jumped to the conclusion that I- Oh God. How are we going to escape now that I can’t even look at him?

“I-”

A hissing noise cut me off, actually managing to surprise me enough that I blinked over to where Dazai hunched over, eyes narrowed in the faintest evidence of pain as he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead where blood mingled with the water dripping down his skin. Oh gosh. His wound. I must’ve accidentally reopened it. Ugh. Could this get any worse?

“Ah, wait! You’ll rub dirt into it,” I instinctively jumped forward, tugging his wrist back and prompting the second most awkward stare within the past minute. What was I doing? Surely Dazai knew this. That or he was still reeling from the concussion. Ah why couldn’t it have been me knocked out?

Still not like I could back away now. Besides his wound really was in danger of getting infected. Might as well see this through. Maybe he’d believe me then. Oh I hope so.

“Just…stay still, okay?” I weakly ordered, subtly surprised he obeyed without a sound. Gosh. And I thought steel toned Mafia Dazai was bad. Quiet Dazai was a million times worse.

With tension you could cut with a butter knife filling my veins, I carefully dabbed at the cut with a scrap of my poor dress, wincing for Dazai as pieces of dirt clung on and forced me to scrub. How was he not reacting? Was this some mafia tactic? Or something he learned growing up in that darkness? Regardless, it felt like I was being stabbed. What did this poor man go through to end up like this?

As much as I wanted to ask, I let the questions drift away, instead murmuring to somehow appease my curiosity and lingering mortification, “I… I didn’t look. I mean, I wasn’t paying attention when I was washing you. I mean- Ugh. None of this sounds even close to good.”

Gosh. Where were those zombie demons when you need them? As much as the idea of running failed to appeal, it beat this awkward situation. Heck, it was all I could do to lean over Dazai and tend to his wound. Was he purposely not moving? Was this some joke? It was reassuring since that meant he was strong enough to continue his shenanigans but so much more bothersome. Why did I crush on him again?

Our eyes met and I swear my face must’ve broken records in how deep I blushed. Oh. That’s right, because he was annoyingly attractive with that bad boy goes good vibe. Ugh. Why? Why did he have to be like this? Why was I recalling that kiss so long ago so clearly? Why did I have to hopelessly fall for him?

“Violet-chan,” I flinched as he cupped my cheek Cause this wasn’t hard enough already without his concerned breath brushing against my skin, “You feel awfully warm… Do you feel feverish? Are you hurt anywhere?”

No. That’d be you. And by the way you’re failing to hide that coy grin, you know it damn well.

Words I would’ve said if I could move my tongue past the first, “No… I-I’m fine.”

Geez. What a turn of events. And here I thought him waking up would be a relief. Now it only felt like additional torture in this hell. Hopefully we’d be able to get out soon. I really couldn’t take much more of this…

I rose to my feet, Dazai following or rather attempting to as he stumbled almost instantly. On pure adrenaline that miraculously hadn’t run out yet, I jumped to support him, “E-Easy there! You probably have a concussion, so it’s best to stay still for a little bit. Icarus really did a number on you, so just rest alright?”

Dazai pried open an eye, giving a weak attempt of a reassuring smile, “And leave you to do all the hard work on your own? What sort of gentleman would I be then? Kunikida-kun would surely scold me.”

Please. I rolled my eyes, helping him rest at the edge of the pool, “Let’s just focus on reaching a point where Kunikida can scold you, okay?”

He gave a small smile and rested on the edge of the pool with his head in my lap – passive nature testifying to how exhausted he felt and blowing away any embarrassment on my part as I weaved my fingers through his hair in a hopefully soothing manner. Some sleep would do him well, and as much as I wanted to follow suit, I busied myself in mulling over what happened so far and what the heck we were going to do now.

Nothing of which made sense no matter how hard I thought about things. From the start, this place was insane and challenged the very laws of reality. Not to mention whatever ability or power Icarus seemed to possess – something immune to No Longer Human. It didn’t spell anything good. It was imperative we knew something about him, yet aside from his name (which, let’s be honest it probably wasn’t Icarus), we knew nothing.

Maybe Dazai knew, but I couldn’t justify waking him. Not yet. I managed to put some distance between us and Icarus. We were good for a bit longer. Shame it had to come to an end as a sharp clattering noise echoed through the tunnel. All the indication I needed to get moving.

“Dazai…!” I hissed, nudging him until he blinked wearily up at me, “Come on. We need to go.”

He mumbled something I couldn’t catch as the footsteps grew louder. Crap. Crap! I pulled him to his feet hastily; supporting him on my shoulder and briskly began walking in the opposite direction. We needed to get out fast. There’s no way Dazai’s in any condition to fight. Even then, I lost his gun after tumbling down the tunnel earlier. We were defenseless, in no suitable position to face Icarus.

Sadly that didn’t save us from his glaring silver eyes as he somehow appeared in front of us – presence so sudden and unexpected I reeled back and nearly dropped Dazai. A gasp left my throat as I staggered, fear mixing with protective fury as I glared at him. Was he going to attack Dazai again? No. I wouldn’t allow that.

“Stay away!” I hissed, ready to shove Dazai aside if he made any move to harm him further. Not that I was going to accomplish much in that, but at the very least it’d buy him enough time to figure something out, cause every idea of mine came to a dead end. It was aggravating, especially as Icarus chuckled demeaningly.

“The cornered animal growls the loudest.”

What? I bristled, yet in the next second all that froze over as he eliminated the distance between us – reaching out threateningly. My heart lodged itself into my throat. Luckily, I managed to keep my word – quickly shoving Dazai away. Unfortunately that left me directly in the path of his hand that lodged itself into my hair, pulling roughly in seconds.

Pain seared my scalp as I reached up to stop the ruthless pressure; a cry left my lips as Icarus smirked – reaction sending a cold stone in my stomach. He was happy, almost as if he planned for this. Could it be that he wasn’t after Dazai? Was this some double bluff? But that still didn’t answer the question why.

“Violet-chan!” Dazai shouted; barely, I managed to see him stumble to a knee and glare at Icarus before the man crassly twisted me around and consequently tightened the pressure to the point I thought my scalp would tear.

Pain covered everything, leaving me struggling to so much as grab his hand as he spoke oily, “Looks like you failed to save this woman this time. A shame, but I can help you.”

Uh oh. This couldn’t possibly lead anywhere good. Anticipating this, I weakly cried out, “D-Dazai…! Run! He’s-!” Sharp pain shot through my scalp as Icarus tugged upwards abruptly, cutting me off.

Through the tears, I saw Dazai shoot him a deadly glare, one that made my heart skip beats. Not out of terror or intimidation, but concern for him. But he had to know he was being targeted, right? There’s no way he didn’t know. And yet his expression when Icarus laid out his deal sent cold shock through us both.

“Surrender peacefully, and I’ll leave her be.”

Dazai’s face blanked, astonishment almost comically innocent. My heart plummeted, fears realized. He was after Dazai, there was no doubt about it now. Worst of all, however, was how easily the bandaged man complied.

“Fine.”

What? “N-No! Dazai, you can’t-!”

“Good choice,” Icarus cut me off, raising a hand his way. Not a second later, dark shadows began engulfing Dazai. My heart stopped.

Somehow, before he completely vanished, I found my voice, “Dazai!”

My scream pulled his eyes to meet mine – seconds feeling like hours yet much too quickly as the blackness enveloped him and disappeared without a trace. In the same moment, Icarus’ grip vanished and I fell to my hands and knees. He kept his promise, yet all I felt was defeat and despair.

Once more I was alone, this time, however, my safety was far from my mind. No. I was terrified. Because now Icarus had Dazai exactly where he wanted him.

And I was lost in some vacant memory with no idea how to even get out and a hoard of shadow demons lurking in the darkness ready to pounce the moment I so much as flinched.

Notes:

Whew! What a crazy couple of days, I'm surprised this even came out in time.

First off: CONGRATZ AO3 ON WINNING THE HUGO AWARD!♥ I'm so incredibly happy and proud of this amazing community and everyone who made it possible. You rock guys and deserve it ♥

Next, school unfortunately starts next week for me so hopefully this endless chapter can entertain you if the next is delayed. I will try my best to juggle it with school and work, but understand that the other two are a bit more of a priority for me. Nonetheless I will try my best to stay consistent-ish.

Finally, this chapter holds the most hints of what this mini arc is based off of (not incredibly noticeable but hard core fans of the game will recognize them). Hopefully for those who figure it out, things will be a lot clearer (hint: biggest giveaway is the title itself)

@seneca: Haha well, he surely can't get away with nearly as much as he did before. It's definitely going to add to their relationship if anything. Aww, thank you! I'm glad you liked it! And lol I've been getting so many posts about slow burn lately and laugh at everyone of them because they describe me to a T.
Lol, I think your comment was in part the reason I added an edit to the previous chapter's end notes. Downside of actually growing up with doctor parents being me not always catching onto the fact that normal people don't use these terms around the dinner table every night. Haha yes! And another 40 until the next date (lol probably not but there is a good gap). Gotta love slow burns.
Happy Birthday! Hope it was a fantastic one ♥

@cassjo: Ooooh very good guess. Like I mentioned above, the clues are in all of the chapters in this arc - this one most noticeably. And same! I've seen thundersnow before (think lightning in snow; a super eerie yet amazing sight) but never fireworks, but thought they'd be a bit similar.

See you all next time ♥

Chapter 47: The Fortieth Hour

Summary:

The clock ticks onwards toward the end

Seventy-two hours. That’s the golden range of successfully locating missing persons alive. It’s what every investigator knew; the first thing that came to mind when such cases came their way. Within that range, evidence held the highest chance of staying preserved, the victim safe, and the situation as a whole remains relatively in control – away from the chaos of media frenzies and well-intentioned but distracting good Samaritans.

Only in this case the Samaritan was Port Mafia’s boss, and the victims were his own coworkers.

Kunikida pulled to a stop, gazing out at the hills. They were a good ways outside of Yokohama, to the point he subtly wondered if Ranpo’s decision not to include Kenji was wise. He flourished in the countryside. Still, the young detective had yet to ever be wrong, and he wasn’t about to doubt him now.

That, however, did not spare him from the pit of unease that increasingly grew each time he glanced at the envelope from Port Mafia. The one with the USB and communication devices linked directly with their boss. Was it ethical to call upon the aid of a murderer – of someone who orchestrated countless crimes every day?

“Kunikida-san…”

He glanced over at the young teen, finding familiar unease mingle with golden determination to save their friends in his eyes. Such pure emotions and will… It was honestly inspiring. Maybe that was why Dazai took such a liking to the kid. He was young and inexperienced, yet his drive and motives to protect those he cared for was clear.

And to think his superior was itching with unease.

Kunikida sighed, mustering up his resolve. He was the senior here, thus it was his responsibility to remain calm and orderly. Especially now with the stakes raised so high and so many unanswered questions lingering over them like blades. Questions like who this Yokoyama Naoki was; his connection to Port Mafia’s boss; and, more disconcerting, the extent of his invention – a machine that both baffled and mortified both as Ranpo explained the contents of the USB on their drive to the destination.

To think that something like that actually existed…

The blonde glanced at the small device in his hand, thankful for opting to copy some of the intel it stored onto a secure device before departing. Who knows if this was all some ploy for the mafia to hack into their databases, thus all the better that the device was independent and isolated. Furthermore, if anything alarming came to light, Yosano would contact them immediately.

Coupled with their combative abilities, they covered nearly all sides and diminished threats as best they could, given their narrow time frame. And yet a lingering unease remained.

There were still far too many variables for any of their liking, but alas, they could do nothing more now besides following along with the plan. With a final skeptical glance at the earpiece and communicator, Kunikida placed it in his ear, watching Atsushi do the same before stepping forward.

Barely a minute later, a voice spoke in a half-simper in his ear, “A pleasure to see you come to your senses at long last. Although, considering our common objective, it is quite disheartening to witness the amount of hesitation you showed.”

Atsushi flinched, his superior scowling, “The only reason we agreed is because of your knowledge of the enemy – something that by far incriminates you more than anything in my opinion. Aside from that, we hold no similarities.”

“You wound me,” the blonde grimaced at the echo of his partner in the Port Mafia Boss’ voice as he replied, “I like to think we are not that dissimilar at all. We both wish for the safe return of Dazai-kun and Violet-chan; we both desire Yokoyama-kun’s capture and defeat – and that is merely the facts pertaining to this one case. Knowing your profession, I am greatly saddened by the fact you could not see all that connects us. Makes me wonder how Dazai-kun’s faring with such basic stimuli.”

Kunikida bristled, yet before he could snap Atsushi intervened, “We do share some basic similarities, I agree with you there. However, that does not mean we can easily cooperate.”

“Indeed. Just the words I’d expect coming from the one who suggested our current alliance,” the weretiger winced at the pleased tone, “Still, I suppose we best cut to the chase.”

Both detectives felt a small rush of relief at his turn in the conversation, lifting their eyes to the rolling hills. They were beautiful in a simple way – perhaps because of the quietness that juxtaposed Yokohama so starkly. But to think such a place harbored a building of nightmares… It challenged his beliefs and instincts while at the same time made perfect sense upon thinking about it.

Where else would someone hide a secret location than in one so ordinary and simple as this?

“About 2.5 kilometers east of your location you will find a small patch of woods. Yokoyama-kun’s laboratory is situated in a small cave system a third of the way inside.”

Without a word, Kunikida adjusted his steps and proceeded in the direction specified. At this pace it would take them about 20 to 30 minutes to arrive. Not exactly the quickest, but given they were in enemy territory, their caution was well warranted.

“Sounds like an obscure place to research something,” Atsushi commented, more to himself than anyone else despite the man on the other line responding.

“Yokoyama-kun’s research was a rather controversial topic, and even then if it were to have gotten out that he was successful, the consequences would have been disastrous. So yes, it is an odd location, but suitable for his studies and warding off unwanted attention.”

“Yet despite all of that you killed him anyways. Makes it hard to believe anything you say is truly unbiased,” Kunikida stated pointedly.

Even though they could not see the man, both sensed his shrug as if he was a parent who gave up on trying to convince their children of something. Knowing his position in the comparison, Kunikda’s scowl only deepened.

“I will not try to defend my actions or explain my reasons. They are no longer of any importance now that Yokoyama-kun is no longer in this world. What is, however, is what he left behind.”

“You’re referring to the machine he created, correct? The one that supposedly links the minds of those connected and allows them to share memories and thoughts.”

“Correct. And if you took the time to read the files rather than having your companions summarize them for you, you would know that that is merely the surface of possibilities,” the pair winced at his scolding note as Mori continued, “Yokoyama-kun theorized that this connection would stand as a basis for a larger depth of shared knowledge and resources – to the extent that more than thoughts and skills could be transferred, but abilities and even consciousness in the same body as well.”

“That’s absurd. Your friend was insane. Even if it was possible to transfer knowledge and skills, the weight of transferring an ability would certainly end in disaster. No one would survive the process,” Kunikida argued.

“Well there were quite the number of casualties – rather taxing considering the low number of ability-users who volunteered,” Mori relented before adding ominously, “However, to say it was impossible would be an err on your part. Multiple attempts have been and are being made now in the name of creating artificial ability users. Additionally, the technique of ability transfers is not at all absurd, something I hoped you would have already been aware of but sadly it appears you are not.”

Kunikida grit his teeth while Atsushi asked innocently, “Artificial ability users? Was that Yokoyama-san’s goal?”

“That may have been one of his reasons, but not the main one from what I witnessed,” Mori answered, “Yokoyama-kun desired to change Yokohama, much like myself and Fukuzawa-dono and many others during that time. He theorized that a powerful ability user was imperative for overthrowing the Port Mafia of that time and maintaining control of the city. Furthermore, that ability user needed to be able to extend their reign indefinitely in order to retain that peace.”

“Let me guess, he volunteered himself for the role,” Kunikida rolled his eyes.

“No,” Mori’s reply came as a splash of cold water to them as he continued, “As prideful as he was in his research and plan, Yokoyama-kun retained enough humility to accept the fact that he was not suited for the position. Thus during his recruitment of volunteers he searched for a prime candidate – one who could not only survive the process of being linked with multiple people, but also inherit their abilities and, in the end, be capable of sharing a body with a host.”

Kunikida’s head reeled at the conversation they were having. It was something straight from a science fiction novel. And yet the Port Mafia Boss spoke of it so casually. It was maddening to the point he wondered if the fate of all of those who went insane after managing to survive the process was not purely because of the machine but the principles of logic they defied.

“It all sounds so impossible. I can’t imagine many would actually volunteer for something so risky,” Atsushi spoke softly as they reached the top of another hill – the woods in question at last appearing.

“Indeed, there were many moments when I myself doubted the efficacy of the experiment. Especially considering the amount who died from the trials or were left insane.”

“And you just let them wander around afterwards while their friends and families said nothing?” Kunikida quirked a brow.

“Well, the majority of them were homeless or orphans with nothing to return to,” Mori responded, adding before Kunikida could snap, “The promise of a reality better than the one you face is a tempting offer most in that position would not refuse. While they met a tragic fate, the intentions behind their choice and Yokoyama-kun’s research were not feigned.”

The blonde scoffed, noting the way Atsushi grimaced at the mention of orphans among the victims. Was he imagining what would have occurred if he ended up as one of the volunteers? Volunteers. Kunikida huffed. Please. They acted out of desperation – a far cry to the morally acceptable definition of the term.

“Alas,” Mori sighed, “In the end, the effects of the connection proved too much even for Yokoyama-kun. In the weeks leading up to his death, he suffered from mania as his memories and the ones of the people linked to the device were all fighting for dominance in his head. He was barely a shadow of the brilliant scientist he once was, and changed his desire from saving the city to entrapping all of its residents within the machine. Of course, such a solution was one I could not accept and thus broke ties with him.”

Broke ties? Kunikida frowned. That was a light way of putting it.

Beside him, Atsushi fidgeted uneasily, asking in a small voice, “Does that mean when we rescue Dazai-san and Violet-san, they will go insane as well?”

His coworker stiffened. Sure there was value in saving their lives, but if their connection resulted in transforming them into a threat to the city they would be confined in isolation for the rest of their lives. That was far from living – a fate he could not honestly say was better than killing them. As the thought passed through his mind, Kunikida grimaced.

To think he actually began to sympathize with the mafia leader’s choice…

Still…

“Assuming all of this is correct and that the lingering consciousness of this man is now attacking Dazai and Violet, what do you expect us to do with him? Surely not follow in your footsteps and kill him ourselves,” he growled, ready to object it instantly while Atsushi mirrored his determination.

“Nothing of the sort,” Mori replied too easily, “Rest assured, Yokoyama Naoki has long been dead. What we are doing is merely pulling the plug on a person reduced to a vegetative state.”

Both grimaced, and as if sensing their reaction the man added, “Regardless of your views on the matter, your priority is connecting the USB I gave you to the device and thus saving Dazai-kun and Violet-chan. The rest you may leave with me.”

The agents exchanged uneasy looks but continued nonetheless, at last making their way into the woods – thick overgrowth of the canopy blocking out the sun’s rays and giving the illusion that it was nighttime. Atsushi instinctively drew closer to Kunikida. Something about this place was off. Maybe because of its dark history? He was not one to believe in ghosts like the blonde, but he could not deny the way the tiger within him bristled in anticipation the further they walked.

Their silence only added to the tension, an unspoken agreement to remain quiet for this final stretch boosting their stress levels. Indeed, Kunikida found himself once more doubting the Port Mafia Boss. They were in the middle of nowhere, in some vague location he knew well and would thus hold an advantage over them. Why did they agree to this? Surely there was a better way. And yet Ranpo’s verification fought against the nerves.

This was their best bet. He had to believe that. And as much as he hated agreeing with the man, their priority had to remain on saving their coworkers. The rest could come after.

Finally, their destination came into view – Kunikida probably would have missed it if not for Atsushi’s keen eyes. It blended near perfectly with the shadows and overgrowth. If anything, it looked abandoned; not sparking much hope of anything, let alone an advanced machine, working inside. Nonetheless, they cautiously approached.

Placing his hand on the cool metal door, Kunikida exchanged a final glance with the young teen. The fingers of his free hand brushed the grip of his pistol as he took a deep breath.

In a burst of adrenaline ready to face whatever horrors awaited them inside, he pulled the door open – its metallic creek sending wave upon wave of anxiety and dread as they faced the darkness inside.

 

…

 

The pounding in his head stirred him first – a dull, throbbing pain that persisted tenaciously. It muddled his thoughts and memories, making it hard to even recall who he was. Would he wake up to find all of this nothing but some horrid nightmare? Hardly. Such things only occurred in children’s fairy tales.

The ache in his bones testified all of this was very much real.

Ironic given this world of memories and thoughts.

Dazai stirred, senses slowly returning as the darkness began peeling away. Resisting the urge to open his eyes, he instead reached out with his other senses – feeling the cool, hard metal beneath him, coarse fabric digging into his wrists and ankles, and the cool, musty air filling his lungs. From the way his hair stuck to and itched his forehead, the wound he received reopened.

Maybe from whatever it was that brought him here? What was it? He couldn’t seem to remember. Everything was fuzzy… He recalled being underground somewhere. His clothes were damp. Somewhere with water? What was he…?

“Dazai!”

Violet’s scream illuminated the darkness; memory of her caught in that man’s, in Icarus’ hold reaching out to him felt like a splash of icy water. Enough to prompt his eyes open wide and send a burst of adrenaline through his veins.

That’s right, they were underground in the tunnels of someone’s memories – running away from Icarus and those creatures. That man threatened to kill Violet, and yet his true target was him. Why? He found no reason. Perhaps they crossed paths in the past? Did he wrong him somehow? Or… Maybe this wasn’t necessarily about him but someone he knew.

In that case, only one name came to the forefront of his mind – a name he grimaced at out of reflex. Of course, why he was ever surpri-

“Awake now, huh?”

Dazai blinked, allowing his attention to focus on the degraded room he found himself in. Had he returned to that rundown hospital? It bore striking similarities, and yet something felt different. Could he even be certain given how many memories they stumbled across already?

A bitter chuckle rumbled in his center. This place… It was maddening to say the least. No wonder people like those two men and Icarus resided here.

Locking eyes with the latter, he trained his features into a familiar condescending smirk, “You prepared a place just for me, huh? How courteous. You shouldn’t have.”

Really. Dazai examined his surroundings and the thick leather straps keeping him in place like some asylum patient. Indeed, the entire place looked like something straight out of a page of history – unfortunately not a pleasant one. Was that because they were technically in history, in a person’s memory? Still…

His eyes narrowed fractionally. The degree of degradation, rust, dried and fresh blood… From someone who witnessed real grime and horror, he was accustomed to the sight – familiar with it like his own room. And while all of this was very accurate and convincing, it felt much too staged to be real.

As if someone was manipulating things – extrapolating circumstances to achieve a purpose.

In that case, the only logical suspect would be… Dazai let his attention drift toward Icarus casually, a small smirk tugging the corner of his lips. At long last things were finally falling into place. Just a little longer and he’d bring this all to an end. It was a risky venture, one that required him to leave Violet, but it would be worth it in the end.

But at what cost? A persistent worry nestled inside him. He left her in a den of demons, literally. While he held a degree of confidence in her survival abilities, the concern remained. There were simply too many variables – too many dangers. Could she really handle all of them and survive?

Dazai’s eyes narrowed. He would make sure this ended quickly.

“That look in your eyes… It reminds me of someone,” Icarus commented, slinking closer to tilt his chin in a way that made Dazai’s skin crawl, “Although I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me, given you are Ougai’s protégé.”

Of course. He suspected that man was involved in this somehow. Icarus’ words only confirmed his theory. All that remained was why…

“Former protégé,” Dazai corrected, not bothering to keep the note of disdain from his tone. Based on the loathing glint in Icarus’ when he mentioned the man, they left on unfavorable terms. Perhaps he could play on that resentment

“Oh? Is that lingering ill will toward the admirable doctor? Can’t say I blame you. Even I find what he subjected you through to be quite cruel. Still, I suppose you managed to get out without the added bullet to the head,” he gave a crooked smile, pointing to his head ominously.

The muscles in his body tensed, mind whirling at the information he gave. What Mori subjected him to? Icarus must have scoured his memories, digging into matters best left untouched. It felt gross, like he peered into him and touched areas he’d prefer no one, least of all the demon, to come into contact with. What all did he see?

And, more importantly, how was he alive if Mori shot him in the head? Did that mean whatever this place was allowed the dead to somehow cling to life?

“Don’t strain yourself too hard, it really is quite simple,” Icarus’ hand at last left his chin as the man cocked his head with a smirk, “You are in my invention, a masterpiece that connects the minds of all bond to it and allows for shared information, freedom, and…” his silver eyes narrowed darkly, “a taste of immortality.”

“Mmm no thank you,” Dazai smiled back, “It kind of goes against my life’s goal. Besides, the idea of staying connected to you makes me want to puke.”

Rather than reacting to his barbed words, Icarus looked almost gleeful as he grinned down at him. It was unnerving to say the least. Had he miscalculated something? Or perhaps misread his words? Wait… Dazai’s eyes widened. Could it be that the immortality Icarus mentioned wasn’t confined in this nightmare?

Damn. Dazai’s eyes grew cold. Of course. This place linked minds. Who’s to say it could not switch them up on the way out? By the way the madman smirked he was confident in the theory and his intents. A thought that caused him to shiver as he realized not having a physical body didn’t impact him at all.

Why would it when two new, fresh ones just linked up with his?

“You know, when Ougai shot me I was stunned. I didn’t see it coming, but then betrayals are always like that, are they not? When I woke here I believed it to be a gift – a newfound freedom unhindered by the weakness of the body. However,” his smile faded swiftly into that grudging hate he glimpsed at earlier, “I soon realized my err. This is no paradise, merely a prison disguised as one. Ougai tricked me, and when I came to it was too late – my body had long since decomposed and was forgotten by everyone. Well, everyone aside from the poor vagabond who wondered in.”

Vagabond? Ah. So that’s who was tailing them…

“People are surprisingly simple, you know? Offer them a long life and they’ll do anything – ignorant of the thorns that await. Alas, it didn’t matter to me. All that did was getting to Ougai and making him repent. It was a rather poetic notion, really. He’d stay here forever while I used his body to fulfill our dream. A perfect plan with the perfect bait.”

“Oh? I should be so honored,” Dazai didn’t bother keeping the sneer from his tone.

“Indeed, because you’ve just made things so much simpler,” Icarus smirked, drawing uncomfortably close; to the point his breath fanned over Dazai’s features as he practically purred, “The student surpasses the teacher. Who would have thought such a trivial saying would actually come to pass – that the vessel I sought was sitting right before me, waiting to be taken.”

Dazai suppressed a shudder, instead smirking venomously, “As much as I am glad for your fall into insanity, I’m afraid I am not renting my body at the moment. It’s quite frail, you know? Wouldn’t want anything to happen.”

“Don’t worry, I will take good care of it. After all, it will finally allow me to kill that traitor in the best way possible,” Icarus shot back with a manic grin, adding upon Dazai’s scowl, “What? Why are you so upset? Surely you don’t care for him? Or are you still hung up on your physical form? Please…”

He cupped his cheek, whispering insidiously, “Once I claim your form I’ll be sure to send you and that woman to the afterlife. That is your life’s goal, is it not?”

Fire seared his veins as Dazai deftly snapped his head to the side and bit down hard onto Icarus’ finger, ripping a startled yelp from the man as he quickly pulled back. The satisfaction, unfortunately, was short lived as Icarus swiftly retaliated in pulling his head up crassly by his hair. Sharp pain buzzed along his scalp as Dazai glared at the man’s manic grin.

“Dog’s got some bite, eh? Well, at least you’ll make things interesting,” Icarus’ smile cut across his features as he held up a fist that radiated with a murky, red-brown light before slamming it into his gut.

Air shoved from his lungs, leaving him gasping as his vision swam. Voices and figures appeared, slowly drowning him as he listened to the madman’s cackling until it faded into the corners of his consciousness.

 

…

 

Running from demons in a video game and running from them in real-memory-world life is very disappointingly different. And not in a good way. That endless stamina the character has? Nope. Obvious paths to take with a mini map in the corner? Nada. Weapon in case you get cornered? Not a chance. Redo if they catch you? Please.

There were no do-overs, not even in this memory world.

Something the wind off of a claw aiming for my head made clear as it smashed into the wall and sent bits of stone scratching at my skin. Of course not even two minutes after Dazai and Icarus spirited away the demon shadow things pounced. Figures. Why Dazai thought they wouldn’t astounds me. That or he thought I’d gotten good at hide and seek and running for my life.

Sadly, I couldn’t fully dispute him as I tore through a door, slamming it shut on the creatures. Not that it would hold them long, but at least it gave enough time to register yet another new memory I tumbled into.

Geez. How many were there? Guess any one person could have countless, but still. I’d gone from beaches, to asylums, to slums, to panoramic country sides, to sewers, and now what looked to be a base camp in the mountains. It was jarring even as I somehow grew somewhat accustomed to the stark changes.

Something the demons didn’t have to worry about as they remained tediously on my heels.

In a matter of moments they swarmed from down the mountain path, always finding a different way into the memories. It was frustrating and exhausting and frankly depressing. No matter how hard I tried, they always managed to find me. Why? Was there some homing beacon on my back? Were they like dogs and smelled me? Well, next time I see water I’ll try it out. As for now…

Run like hell – something far easier said than done as I rounded the path only to slip on the ice and tumble down the side. A scream tore from my throat and in a moment of insanity I feared some avalanche would come tumbling down. Please. That was the least of my concerns.

Or so I thought as the snow and ice I expected turned to warm, humid concrete. Still just as jarring and painful to fall on, but much better than going splat. What happened? I thought this place was out to kill me. Did something change?

Was Dazai the reason why? He did go surprisingly easy. Maybe he planned for this? Geez… Please tell me he figured everything out. I am more than done with this place.

Shame it wasn’t quite done with me, as right when I went to rise on my hands and knees, something slammed me back down. Lethal claws dug into my arm and side, bringing the telltale warmth of blood seeping into Dazai’s coat. From the corner of my eye, I met the beady red ones of the demon poised above me, ready to strike.

Everything happened in slow motion. It swung down, ready to kill me while all I could do was stare in horror and hope Dazai wouldn’t be too disappointed his coat was ruined. But then this was all just a memory, right? I wouldn’t really die, right? Somehow that didn’t reassure me in the least in the wake of those deadly claws ready to slice me into bits.

Bang!

A shot tore through the air, temporarily stopping time as the demon halted inches from my cheek. My heart froze, mind not comprehending the sight. It stopped. Was that shot at the demon? But who? The only one I could think of was Dazai. But how? Did he escape Icarus already?

I turned toward the source, seeing something that made my jaw drop. My savior wasn’t Dazai, but he was far from an enemy. Someone that both made me giddy and twisted my heart at the same time. Someone whose brilliant sapphire eyes narrowed at the demon as it dissipated into dust and left the two of us in an alley that suddenly became so much more familiar than I first realized.

Even then, the shock was distant compared to what hit me as Odasaku met my wide eyes and asked calmly, “Are you okay?”

Notes:

Here's to hoping this storm doesn't knock out the power for weeks on end. If that happens, sorry in advance, but hey at least this chapter leaves a lot to mull about.

@seneca: Haha yes I believe it was around 8k words total? Almost considered breaking it into two chapters, but at the last moment went "Eh, Why not?"
Yes, yes. It is very distressing especially considering Dazai's ability requires physical contact and all of this is very much in their heads. But no worries, Dazai's stumbling his way through things, although it isn't going to be easy for him from here til the end of the arc.
Lol, all of the above? From here on the POVs bounce between Dazai, Violet, and Kunikida/Atsushi as all three parties find evidence and have their own trials to overcome and, in the end, help each other out.

Thank you all. If you're in this monster storm's path as well, stay safe!

Chapter 48: The Cruelest Intentions

Summary:

Even the brightest of smiles may hide the cruelest intentions

White fire seared his veins, burning him from the inside out. Sweat trickled down his forehead, only adding to the itchiness of his hair stuck to his skin and the irritation of multiple wires stuck along his head, feeding a subtle yet irksome current of electricity through his skull. Not enough to hurt, per say, but sufficient in keeping him from fully focusing.

His stomach churned as his personal rancid memories of such devices clashed with the numerous others invading his mind. Echoes of screams and phantoms of agony and terror prickled uncomfortably against his skin. Like sandpaper slowly wearing it down to blood, muscle, and bone.

As someone more than accustomed to torture on both sides of the blade, the poison, restraints, even the jeers from Icarus were child’s play – a mosquito bite at best. Indeed, he was confident in his ability to outlast the man. If not for the constant nagging of voices screaming in his head and slowly driving him insane.

A grimace marred his features as a particularly mortified shout rang in his ears in beat with a bolt of agony from the blade Icarus ran down his arm, slicing his bandages in two and creating an upwelling of scarlet. He bit back a hiss of pain, forcing his features to remain neutral even as his eyes bore coldly into the other’s silver gaze. A silent promise of retribution bubbled within, bringing dark memories of his past he almost wished the other was witnessing.

A preview of what was to come.

One that would have to wait a while longer as Icarus crassly grabbed a fistful of the brunette’s hair, forcing his head back as the rusty hue covering the man’s pale fist trickled down into him. The fire in his veins roared, dark marks forming along his cheeks and snaking down his neck. He felt the man’s presence push its way inside, intending to devour and destroy.

Dazai grit his teeth, a grunt managing to slip past his lips as he pushed back, prompting the man to seethe, “Just…give in already!”

Another surge tore through him, muddling everything to the extent his disorientation nearly costing him. Fortunately Lady Luck had not yet abandoned him even in this nightmare. In the last moment he shoved back at the demon, prompting him to recoil back and nearly onto the floor if not for catching himself on a metal table. Scalpels and syringes and other miscellaneous medical items clattered to the floor, each sound obscured by the coughs tearing at his throat. His body screamed to curl in on itself, only for the restraints to cruelly keep him in place.

Be that as it may, he managed a scathing grin as he croaked, “What? You giving up already? I can’t say I’m not disappointed. Out of everyone pinning after me, you’re by far the least persistent. Should I be offended? Or relieved, I wonder?”

Icarus huffed, managing a smirk of his own even with the contempt blazing in his mercury eyes, “The lone wolf always waits for the perfect opportunity to strike.”

“Wolf, huh? Sorry but I’m more of a cat person.”

“That so? I’ll be sure to make note of that.”

“Really? How thorough of you, but then so are most parasites, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, huh?”

Icarus sneered; a poisonous retort perched on the tip of his tongue only to abruptly die out. The fire in his eyes changed rapidly, going from stunned shock – like a bucket of ice water fell over him – to ire-tinged realization to a sinister grin that chilled Dazai’s bones. What prompted such a reaction? Nothing good by the look in his eyes.

Did he give something away? Or was this merely a bluff? It felt too jarring and genuine to be a feint. Yet to think he actually let something slip… It had been a few years since his time in Port Mafia, but there was no way his experience from that time was dying out now. It was embedded in his very being, in his blood – whether he wanted it or not.

Shame it did little in warding off the ice in his veins as Icarus pulled back, commenting in a sickeningly casual manner, “Perhaps I’ve been going about this the wrong way. You hold experience in torture, correct? A stone heart and iron will. While it would be undoubtedly pleasurable to crack that will, I believe a different approach will expedite things splendidly.”

A cold, apathetic expression took hold of the detective’s features as the man continued with a wicked grin, “I wonder… What expression will you show me when I throw that woman’s head at your feet?”

Instantly, the ice transformed into searing fire – Dazai glaring lethally at the man who held his amused smirk. Violet. She was alive; she survived like he knew she would. But now this demon was actively hunting her. Regardless of what he did now, Icarus sought her head as some cruel push to get him to lose control. A ploy he was not completely certain he would emerge unscathed from.

His expression and silence were all Icarus needed to wave a hand, summoning those shadows from before and curtly ordering, “Find her.”

The shadows departed swiftly, the silver-eyed man following in a relaxed almost carefree pace. Like he was about to go on a stroll. It sickened Dazai, but at the same time his departure would give him ample opportunity to escape.

Or so he thought until Icarus stopped at the doorway, glancing back at the brunette, “Ah, that’s right. It would be foolish of me to leave you waiting in silence. How about I give you something to occupy your time?”

With a snap of his fingers, memories flooded his mind – images of brutal deaths at his hands mixed with the torment of others. Worst of all, however, was the repetition of that evening. The one where he raced through that dilapidated building, leaping over fallen soldiers and murdered mafia members, only to come up short at the sound of a gunshot echoing in the silence.

A scream bubbled up his throat as he watched the figure collapse onto the ground. Even though he knew this was not real – that it was Icarus’ cruel torment – he struggled to control his heart’s rapid beating.

Everything about this one cruel memory hit too close to home, and as if sensing his rising distress, the memory repeated more and more often – forcing him to relive that horrid day over and over. Dazai closed his eyes tightly, digging his nails into his palms and trying to ground himself in reality or anywhere but that mansion. Unfortunately, it did little to stop the memories from coming, leaving him breathless and on the verge of tears as he heard the door click shut.

 

…

 

Suffocating black covered the room, stubbornly holding ground against the dim, grey-blue light filtering in from behind the two detectives. Even with Atsushi’s eyes shifting to pierce the darkness, he could barely make out its contents – merely vague shapes that could be a desk, some chairs, a table, and cabinets. Everything about the place felt eerie.

Like a place they really should not be in.

A flash of green briefly illuminated the room, revealing papers, vials, books, and other miscellaneous items strewn throughout the area. Atsushi glanced leftwards, finding his senior turn on the flashlight he summoned, granting a lasting light to the room and, thus, a means to venture further inside.

With tentative steps, they proceeded inwards, scanning for any sign of the machine and their allies. Now that he was further inside, the place did bear similarities with a laboratory – contents of the papers showing numbers and equations along with a language he couldn’t make out.

Atsushi frowned, noting the language predominated the majority of files and literature strewn about. Indeed, the only things he could make out were haphazard notes in Japanese, but they were few at best. Was this truly Yokoyama’s lab? Did he understand this language? What was written down?

The young teen sighed. So many questions… It made him suddenly sympathize with Violet’s dilemma. Maybe when they reunited he’d work harder to help her learn how to speak and read. Although given her progress in the past couple months, she was doing very well on her own.

“What is this?” Kunikida murmured, picking up an envelope with an unfamiliar phrase on its cover – one Atsushi keenly noted repeated among the other papers in the room. Perhaps a project name or a sponsor?

“Project Zwei…” the two tensed as the words sounded in their earpiece, Mori continuing, “It is the name of the experiment Yokoyama-kun conducted to test out the capabilities of his invention. What you see now is a collection of our notes.”

“Our? So you are able to understand this language?” Atsushi blinked, unable to hide the impressed note in his voice.

“Of course. We first met in Germany after all. There’s little use residing in a nation for more than a few months without knowing some basics of the native language.”

“And what exactly was the purpose of your stay abroad?” Kunikida asked skeptically.

“Nothing that specifically pertains to this dilemma,” came the no-nonsense answer, Mori continuing almost curtly, “I was merely giving some insight to your young partner about how I came to learn the language. Alas, in the end it matters little. The contents of those books and papers are detailed in the notes I provided, thus the more optimal route now would be to move on rather than linger, would it not?”

The blonde looked ready to argue, but relented with a bitter huff and turned sharply to venture deeper into the room. With a hesitant glance back at the door and the file he left on the table, Atsushi followed. A door appeared from the shadows, and after a moment to regard it, they opened and stepped through.

The sight that met them tore a gasp from Atsushi’s throat. Kunikida tensed beside him, both of their instincts on full alert at the massive machine taking up the majority of the room. Wires and cables covered the floor, and in the darkness the multicolored lights appeared like stars. However, as aweing and intimidating as it was, Yokoyama’s invention was not what prompted their blood to freeze.

No. That would be the motionless bodies of Violet and Dazai – both unconscious in a pod-like device with wires attached to their heads that connected to the machine.

If he was being honest, the whole idea of a manmade machine connecting minds and being able to transfer things like memories and abilities was a hard concept to accept. After all, it was so completely unheard of. Like something he ready from a fantasy novel. And yet now, standing a few feet away from it, Atsushi felt himself bristle in dread.

For something with the initial intention of saving the city, the mere concept of the machine felt undeniably malevolent. Indeed, the tiger within him urged him to flee. Danger prickled the very air around them. This entire place was wrong. He needed to get out. He shouldn’t be here…

Click!

The sound cut through their tense silence, one hauntingly familiar as both detectives slowly turned and met the barrel of a gun pointed directly at them. Behind it, a young man perhaps a bit older than Kunikida. His ragged attire suggested he was homeless, and yet that very aspect only put Atsushi more on edge. He of all people knew how an empty stomach and lack of a place to sleep could push one to severe extents – ones with lethal consequences.

Kunikida took a breath, calming himself admirably as he addressed the man, “Are you the one who kidnapped Dazai and Violet?”

Instead of replying, the man pulled the trigger. In the last second, Kunikida shoved Atsushi down, dodging the bullet in the process. The blonde grimaced. So much for negotiation. But then, what else did they expect?

“You will not interfere. I will not let you disrupt Yokoyama-sama’s revival,” the man’s cold voice prompted a chill down Atsushi’s spine as he peered over the cabinet they hid behind to meet those hallow green eyes.

Revival? He can’t mean… Atsushi shuddered, recalling the Port Mafia Boss’ words. Yokoyama’s invention allowed for a taste of immortality by transferring the consciousness of one person to another’s body…

The teen bristled, fear and urge to flee being replaced by a fire to protect his friends. Allowing his ability to surge and transform his legs and arms into the strong limbs of the tiger, he lunged forward while snarling, “Release Dazai-san and Violet-san now!”

In a heartbeat the tension in the room exploded into something deadly, loud crashes and sounds of gunfire deafening. A streak of blood coated the floor and parts of the machine. Faintly he heard Kunikida scream his name, but it was distant within the roaring in his ears.

 

…

 

Back here again… Can’t say I’m particularly glad. With any hope it’d be the last time. Still, it would take a miracle for this to work out. Thankfully, I had one walking right next to me.

Oda Sakunosuke was…odd. I don’t know how to describe him really. He was blunt, but not in a necessarily offensive way. Almost like he didn’t know how to put things or how he came across. Aloof, if you will. But also keenly aware of himself and holding a rather jarring knack of seeing through others and the situation at hand. A mix of innocence and sharp wit.

He wasn’t at all what I expected, not completely at least, but after spending a few moments with him I gathered he was far more than what he viewed himself to be. Then again, that could just be another quirk of the guy. Guess this is what attracted Dazai to him in the first place. Can’t say I’m surprised.

“So, you’re an acquaintance of Dazai’s?”

Acquaintance? Really? Surely we were more than that. I mean not like lovers or anything embarrassing but certainly more than acquaintances. At the very least we had to be- Oh. Friends. That held a different meaning for Odasaku. But just what did it entail? Even then, I was fairly confident Dazai and I had been through enough to qualify under his standards. Still…

“Uh, yes. I suppose you could say that,” I answered at length, earning a somewhat surprised look in his eyes.

Was he shocked that I agreed? Or did he read into it? How much did he even know? At the very least he knew about Dazai’s darker days. But what about after? Did he know he was technically dead? Should I tell him? Yeah, probably not. The poor guy went through enough hell, and while this place was not much better the least I could do was let him bask in some blissful ignorance.

“I see. He hasn’t mentioned you,” Oda noted in that borderline offensive way that was just his way of being straightforward. Gives a whole new definition of brutal honesty.

“Y-Yeah… It doesn’t really surprise me. I mean, it’d be weird for an executive to hang around and talk about someone who isn’t even a part of Port Mafia, right?”

Ahh! What was I saying? He’s only going to suspect me more now! Ahh…

“Hmm, I suppose you have a point,” Odasaku tilted his head, pondering the thought before nodding in acceptance.

What? Really? I mean. Great. I think…. Was he always this accepting? Should I be concerned?

We continued on in an increasingly awkward silence. Should I say something? Continue this conversation? Or start a new one? Like what? Weather? Geez. Yeah, that’s original. “Hey, how’s the weather Odasaku?” “Oh, you know, peachy. Eternal nighttime with a dash of demons. Very nice, very nice. Makes for a nice mood.”

Geez. What a time to be without Dazai and his amazing skills to pull out any conversation from thin air. Haaa… I suppose it could be worse. Yeah. I mean, I could be stuck in here with a complete and total creep or someone annoying. Like Kajii. Ugh. Could you imagine? I think at that point the demons would be a delight.

Speaking of…

Without warning, Odasaku snatched my shoulder and tugged us back – leaving little time for me to so much as gasp as his hand darted up to cover my mouth. He pulled us into the shadows of what appeared to be some medical closet. As shameful as it was, my cheeks warmed at the implications. Not that I was head over heels for the guy. Rather, I always thought of him as an older brotherly figure. Just now with us hiding in a freaking closet pressed close together felt awkward at best, even as I understood it kept us from running into the shadowy demons that darted down the hall we were standing in seconds earlier.

“Looks like he’s noticed your presence,” Odasaku murmured, letting his hand fall from my mouth and reaching to prep one of his pistols.

“Yeah…” I agreed. This was good. This meant that our plan was starting off on a good foot – that we may actually succeed. That the next part would be worth the danger.

Oooh… This is not going to be fun at all…

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked as I took in a breath, trying to calm my shaking limbs, “We could always switch places, you know.”

“No,” I shook my head, “Those demons are after me. It’s best that I be the one to lure them away. Just…please be quick, okay? I’m not exactly the long distance runner.”

I shot him what I hoped to be a light smile but felt how my stomach twisted in dread. Yes. This was not going to be fun at all. I was about to play bait – running as long as I could until Odasaku either fulfilled his part of the plan or the demons caught up. It was a gamble with very real stakes. But at the very least I could rest in the fact that if anyone could do this and pull off a win, it’d be him.

Hopefully I’d be able to fulfill my half of the plan. No. I would be able to do this. I couldn’t fail. Not here. Not now. We were going to win.

Holding onto that thought, I accepted Odasaku’s pistol, hiding it in Dazai’s inside pocket. Breathe. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale, and…

Before my nerves could freeze me in place, I darted out the door. Only a few seconds passed until I met the red eyes of a group of demons. It was all the incentive they needed to begin the chase.

With one final glance at the closet where Odasaku hid, I turned and bolted down the hall – away from where Dazai should be. Through it all, I felt Odasaku’s azure gaze follow my every step, sensing him pray the same thing that kept me going.

Please be safe.

Notes:

Lol all you guys' comments about Odasaku were beautiful. And shout out to lipstickgremlin for connecting the dots and knowing/playing the game The Evil Within, which, yes, is very much the inspiration behind this arc (my dear, I literally screamed YES!! when I read your comment and it made my entire day♥). For those of you who haven't heard about the game, I strongly recommend. It's a bit gruesome so beware but sheds a lot of light on this arc and is a fantastic game.

@seneca: Haha yes, although I wonder. Is this really the Odasaku from Dazai's memories? Keep in mind the other who knows about the man c; Unfortunately there will be no Buraiha in this arc apart from some mentions here and there. Haha yes, it will be very interesting for Violet to explain herself. But rest assured, she'll have some time to figure out the words. Aww, thank you! It always surprises me to see which cliffhangers bring the most reactions (especially this one as I didn't expect nearly the amount of responses it did)

@MisuSan & Gryffinclaw: ♥ Yes our beloved red head appears for a wonderful cameo. Hope you enjoy this chapter and the next to come c:

Once again, thank you all for the lovely comments that made my week ♥ Until next time~

Chapter 49: Oil and Water

Summary:

No one said it would be this hard.

Pace yourself.

In the two marathons I subjected myself to – or rather was forced into doing as training for nationals – those words were spoken like a mantra by everyone from my coach to my fellow teammates to my parents, friends, siblings, roommates, and everyone in between. Seriously. To think they cared so much about two arduous races. Never heard them so pumped, but then again we did make nationals.

Still didn’t mean I resented running those 52 odd miles instead of swimming them. Although we did take part in a triathlon so I suppose that sort of counts… Either way, it ended up paying off in the end and while we didn’t snag gold we got a nice and shiny silver.

Hopefully that’d be enough to get me through this nightmare of a race.

A flash of black streaked by my left side, nearly colliding with me only to smash into the wall – the demonic source reduced to a misshapen mound of black. Geez. These things really were going all out. Almost wish their effort could be a bit more precise but then again that would hurt a lot. Not to mention throw a huge wrench into my plan.

Simply put, to take a page from Dazai’s book: I don’t like pain and would rather not get splattered on the side of some memory wall.

Dazai… I hope he’s alright. Had Odasaku reached him yet? Were they headed this way now? Were they going to find me in time?

No. Don’t think about that now. Focus. Focus on the finish line. Now is not the time for distractions. Focus. Don’t look back. Keep your eyes forward and- Ah!

In the worst possible moment, the ground beneath me froze – my feet slipping on the ice and sending me crashing down. A perfect target for the rabid demons on my heels. Or so I thought until the unthinkable happened: a deadly, obsidian blade sliced through the air, taking with it most if not all of the demons’ heads as well as a few locks of my hair.

What the hell? I gasped, literally dodging death as I landed on my butt like some toddler. Unfortunately for me, this time around the source wasn’t a savior. Far from it. At least his presence here lent some relief in that my plan was still in motion. On the other hand: my plan was still in motion and had just reached the deadliest part.

“You’re quite tenacious, huh? Is that because you don’t belong here? Or dumb luck?”

I turned, finding the dilapidated halls of the hospital transform into spider-web-lined tunnels and a room that could only be described as occult in nature. Great. As if things weren’t horrifying enough. Nevertheless, if this is where he feels most comfortable killing me, then it has to be a place from his memories.

Looking at Icarus now with the massive scythe perched on his shoulder, it suited him remarkably well.

“Who knows?” I countered, coming to a stand to face the man, “I prefer to think I’ve just gotten rather good at dodging death and running away from lunatics.”

Icarus huffed, holding out a hand in a not good way, “Oh? Is that so? Then allow me to test that quirk of yours.”

Uh oh. This is what I get for taunting the devil. Smooth move Violet.

Darkness gathered – the masses that once were demons collecting into a single spot. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap! It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. I needed to run – fast.

Not wasting a moment, I turned and bolted. Icarus’ demeaning laugh grated on my ears but I ignored them. Rightly so as in the next moments a horrid hybrid of a scream and roar filled the tunnels and shook them precariously. It burned my ears and I quickly covered them while turning the corner – darkness giving way to stereotypical thunder and lightning behind grand windows in some old estate.

Was this his home?

Without warning the ground shook and that terrible noise filled the air. A quick glance back made my stomach drop. All the demons combined to form a grotesque…thing. I don’t even know what to call it. It had different animal-like parts and heads and faces and was wholly unpleasant to look at. A perfect monster from anyone’s nightmares.

One I’d have to somehow dodge long enough for Odasaku to bring Dazai to me. One now realized I had to get rid of if my insane plan was to work. But what the hell was I supposed to do? The thing was massive and a death trap waiting to devour me and all I had was a pistol Odasaku gave me.

One that suddenly felt really small in the wake of the beast quickly gaining on me – its thunderous footsteps nearly unbalancing me with each step. Indeed, within seconds, I could smell its rancid breath as it washed over me. Apparently close enough to swipe at me with a lethal paw.

By nothing short of a miracle I dodged; scream escaping my throat as it crashed into the wall beside me and sent debris flying and scraping my skin. Luckily the miss seemed to stall the thing. Unfortunately, the enraged roar it bellowed shook the entire building and only meant it was more motivated than ever to squash me; case and point how it barreled toward me ravenously.

And released a massive ball of fire.

What?! I barely had enough time to turn the corner before the inferno smashed into the wall, setting the estate ablaze in a heartbeat. What the hell?! The thing can breathe fire? How unfair is that?

Windows shattered to my left, sending a shower of glass my way. No. It was not like rain but glass instead of water. More like a sandstorm with knives instead of small particles of dirt. Pain seared the entirety of my left side and would’ve stopped me if not for adrenaline pushing me away from something that would bring a whole heck of a lot more pain.

It took everything I hand not to look back this time and do exactly what my track coach always told us not to do. Focus on the finish line, not what’s behind. Don’t worry about the person behind you; just get to where you need to go. Ironic how it fits so well here. Only instead of a determined track runner I had a bloodthirsty demon that could spit fire chasing me.

How the hell was I supposed to defeat this thing with a freaking toy gun? There’s absolutely no way. I mean, how could I even be certain that the thing could get hurt by bullets now? Should I try? Yeah. Sounds good. Tick off the fire demon even more than it already is. Smart. Good way to get crispy in no time.

No. The only chance I had was to lead it to that place. If I could make it there, then I could wrestle control from Icarus. It would probably only last a second, but it was more than enough for me to defeat this monstrosity. Well, that’s the hope anyways. If not then I guess either way I was dead meat.

Only thing was, how would I manage to divert these memory jumps? Based on the same eerie, grey unpleasantness surrounding each one, I’d venture to guess they all belonged to Icarus. So how was I going to tear away from his strain of memories to get to one of my own? It’d have to be a moment where we both saw something pretty much the same – a feat that left me both mortified and dubious at the possibility.

I mean, there had to be something. What did everyone or a great majority of people see in their lifetime regardless of upbringing and mental sanity?

It was a riddle that only grew more complicated as the demon released another fireball – this one blocking my path in a sea of flames. I recoiled back, directly in line with its claws that scoured down my arm and shredded the sleeve of Dazai's coat. White fire filled my vision and the sheer pain nearly made me puke. By some miracle I managed to keep it all in. However, it didn’t stop the blood from streaking down my arm and dripping onto the floor.

Wait. Epiphany happening! I didn’t need a memory everyone in the world shared. I just needed one that Icarus logically had – one a medical professional would witness. It was so obvious I wanted to slap myself. And to top the irony off, his demon just gave me the key to its downfall.

Focusing on my blood dripping down and forming a puddle, I summoned a memory not so long ago. Sure, it technically wasn’t from my original world, but at the very least it’d give me some leg up and was sort of similar to the places from Icarus’ memories. Maybe that’d buy me some precious few seconds.

Time I sorely needed as the worn estate halls wavered, slipping into the bloodied, forlorn dungeons beneath Port Mafia – my puddle of blood mixing with the one Mori created all those weeks ago beneath Yokohama. Yes! It worked! Now to just-!

Without warning the demon threw its paw down, fracturing the ground and causing me to fall over. Not wasting a moment, it slammed its clawed appendage onto my stomach, pushing the air from my lungs as it slowly crushed me. A scream tore from my throat and out of instinct I dug my nails into its slimy fur.

It growled threateningly, ready to squish me. Indeed, it was seconds from killing me – meaning I only had one chance at this.

Taking what little breath I had left, I wrestled control of the space – willing it to banish the demon away to some void or abyss, never to return. It was a shot in the dark, yes, and incredibly insane. And yet if Icarus held the power to create it, then it stood that here in my memory I held the power to destroy it for good.

Agony shot up my spine as the beast snarled and dug its claws into my sides. Heat gathered as it prepared to roast me alive. Come on now. I raised a shaky hand. Quickly now, quickly…! Just disappear. Go away and never come back! Disappear, disappear, disappear…

In the last seconds, I screamed out at the demon as it released the ball of fire, “Disappear!”

Moments before impact, a golden light shot from my hand and slammed into the beast. It was shocking, completely unexpected yet relieving as it did the deed – massive creature giving a furious wail as it disintegrated into golden particles of light.

Thank God. I wheezed, letting my head fall back onto the ground and pressing against my wounds as a bought of wet coughs bubbled up dangerously. Each one tore at my throat like nails. And sadly, they were but drops compared to the deadly storm brought by the sound of chilling clapping that grew louder as its source entered the dim light.

Everything hurt and it was all I could do to pull my head up and glare at Icarus who came to a stop a few feet away – his smug smirk aggravating to no end. The scum. He waited in the shadows til this moment. Smart considering his demon lackey did all the work, but completely unfair as it left him ready while I was struggling to hang on. Couldn’t he give me like an hour to recover? No?

“Nice trick – utilizing your own memory to take control and defeat the beast. However, it is all for naught. You lost the moment you entered this world – my world,” he spoke haughtily, raising his arms in beat with that menacing scythe appearing in his hands. Oh gosh…

My heart dropped as I stared petrified by the entire unfairness and how surreal this all was. Based on what I gathered rummaging around his memories of this place with Odasaku, if we died here than we were pretty much dead in the real world – that all that would remain would be our empty bodies. I didn’t know if I fully trusted the words of the mad manipulative jerk, but I guess if one thing was for certain it was that I was about to find out.

Icarus let his hands fall, scythe descending just as lethally as his namesake did in the stories of old.

 

…

 

Pull.

Fateful gunshots ring in his ears, loud and jarring and ominous.

Pull.

His throat burns – raw from screaming his name over and over and over…

Pull again.

There’s blood on his palm and cheek. How he wishes it was his own.

Again.

He watches the light fade from those sapphire eyes once more. How many times has it been? He’s lost count.

Again.

A decayed medical room blurs into focus. He’s back once again. Not for long. Soon the process will begin again. He’ll witness more gruesome memories and horrors, all climaxing with that tormenting death. The day he failed.

The day Odasaku…

Dazai grimaced, scrunching his eyes shut and shaking away the afterimages. His cheeks felt damp from sweat and tears he hadn’t realized he had been crying. How pitiful he must appear now. How long had it even been? Minutes? Seconds? Hours? Icarus’ lack of presence brought some relief that his target still breathed. However…

Carnelian eyes opened, determination flaring in their depths. He would not let her fight alone. He would not fail again. He refused to allow her to live that horrid memory.

He pulled at the restraints once more, a small hiss escaping his lips as the dried blood there dampened – wound reopened for the countless time. It was no use. No matter how much he pulled, they remained aggravatingly intact. He needed to change his methods. Pulling wasn’t working, so that left…

Dazai inhaled, nerves quivering slightly at the answer he came to.

He’d have to break one of his wrists. It was the only way he’d be able to slip from the restraint and secure his escape. Still, his body’s hesitation held him back – it would certainly hurt.

No. He steeled his will. None of this was real. The pain would hurt, but only for a time. Breathe. Just breathe. With each second that passed, Icarus drew closer to harming her. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer.

Breathe. Inhale, exhale… Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale, and-!

A cool hand rested over his, gently stopping his actions. Dazai stiffened, eyes darting up – expecting Icarus, a demon, a foreign memory, almost anyone except the man who stood there. His heart skipped a beat, mind plunging into shock as he met Odasaku’s clear gaze.

His name teased his tongue, only for him to violently retake it. No. This was just another memory. Odd that it occurred in this hellhole instead of the immersive scenes like before. Was it trying to deceive him? Keep him from escaping by using the image of his late friend?

Dazai scowled bitterly, “Let go.”

The memory blinked, perhaps caught off-guard by his curt, venomous tone. Nevertheless, it remained irritatingly in character, “Calm down.”

A scoff tore from his lips as he glared daggers at the illusion, “Really? That’s all you got? Telling me to calm down? What? Has Icarus lost focus? Or is he really just that disillusioned to think that the apparition of my dead friend would actually stir me into some stupid submission?”

A flinch ravaged the memory’s form, so violent that for a moment Dazai felt cold regret and guilt grip his heart. However, before he could reflect on it, the redhead exhaled and did something odd.

He unhinged the restraint.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I guess Violet was right when she said that man would attack your psyche rather than your physical body,” the ghost murmured, tenderly lifting his bruised and bloodied wrist out and setting it on his chest before moving down to free his legs.

The entire time, Dazai watched in silence. Violet? There was no way Odasaku knew about the blonde. If anything, his words only added credit to the theory he was some trick created by Icarus. And yet, the way he spoke – the way he pronounced certain words, the way he carefully freed him… If this really was a ruse, then he far underestimated Icarus' eye for detail.

Or maybe, just maybe, this was the real memory of his friend. That reality perhaps tore his heart more so. Because if that was true… If this really was Odasaku… Then he…

“Dazai.”

Whether it was his worn mental state or exhausted nerves, Dazai flinched, blinking up into those all too familiar cerulean eyes. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, one whose warmth and solace he nearly melted into. It just felt so nice after all of that. Too nice, he knew, but undeniably tempting.

“What do you want?” his voice sounded cold and detached – old defense mechanisms kicking in as he stared down the memory, “Sorry, as much as I’d love to enjoy this touching reunion, I really think it’s getting old and have places to be, you know? If that is all you have to say, then please do leave.”

The memory blinked, observing him almost curiously. It irritated him. Not so much the unwarranted attention but the familiarity in it. Odasaku always managed to see beneath things – refusing to outright mention them but recognize them for what they were. He found that same piercing gaze staring at him now. So familiar and realistic… How was it possible Icarus got such intricacies down in a matter of minutes – hours at most – in scouring his memories?

“If that’s what you want, then fine,” Dazai blinked, almost disappointed in how simply the man obliged. Turns out, the memory was far more like Odasaku than he could’ve imagined as he snatched his elbow and plucked him from the cot – throwing him over his shoulder as he jogged out of the room.

“Wha-What are you-?!”

“You wanted me to leave, so I left,” he replied easily, casting a cautious glance in the hallway before swiftly moving down it, “However, in order for Violet’s plan to work, you need to reunite with her as soon as possible.”

“And you just so happen to know the quickest way?” Dazai raised a skeptical brow.

“Yes,” the memory came to a stop in front of a door, bandaged man nearly falling from his shoulder as he let him drop to his feet only to steady him upon keenly noting his lack of balance.

Overlooking the scowl Dazai shot his way, he instead pulled out a…key?

“I don’t know where Violet is, but if we follow her memories they will lead us straight to her,” the memory explained, “This is a key she gave to me. Apparently it is to her apartment and should, in theory, allow us entrance to her specific memories.”

Dazai blinked. A key that would allow them to pinpoint Violet’s memories? It sounded absurd and yet totally plausible. Could she have realized the truth of this world as well? Was this her first steps in manipulating it – or at least attempting to do so? If they were successful, that would imply Icarus was not in complete control.

He regarded the memory in tense silence. If that was true, then he gave him the final key to victory – both literally and metaphorically as it would seem.

The red-head turned, inserting the key and unlocking the door. Instantly its ragged, rusted appearance transformed into a blue-grey door with an evergreen wreath partially obscuring the silver numbers 903. Dazai’s eyes widened, pieces falling into place at last and in the moment he allowed himself a second of naiveté. Or perhaps a brief glimpse of hope that this really was too nice.

“You ready?”

Dazai inhaled, letting that familiar smile rest on his features as he nodded, prompting the memory- No. Odasaku to open the door and allow the blinding light within to engulf them.

Notes:

Another rather painful chapter complete - only two more to go for this arc. Or, actually, one and a half - latter one something I've been waiting for since like the beginning of this series. 50 chapters later and it finally arrives and I can't wait.

@Chiara: Aww thank you ♥ And honestly the idea for adding Odasaku did not hit me until a bit later, but I too am glad for his presence here even though it does complicate how I originally penned out this arc and the ones that follow.

@lipstickgremlin: Yes same here! Haha yes that was the exact reaction I was aiming for, so once again thank you for your brilliant detective skills ♥ Aww thank you! Violet is definitely an interesting character who has slowly made herself into something I couldn't have imagined when first penning her out. Still, she has a lot more growth to come, so I hope you enjoy reading her journey as it really only starts after this "warm-up" 50 chapters.

@seneca: Yay! I'm glad you enjoyed Odasaku's surprise cameo as much as I am~ As for your question: well, this is a world made up of memories - things that are very susceptible to manipulation (a theme presented in the game the arc is based upon) and thus brings out the possibility of altered memories (hence Dazai's suspicions). Therefore part of the Odasaku we see really is Dazai's memories but I wouldn't say all of him is, if you catch my drift.
Well, he definitely goes through it - and writing this chapter physically hurt when I got to Dazai's initial part. Don't worry though, he will recover in his own way (although it does take quite a bit of time in this case, as anyone would expect given he essentially took a 2 year break the first time to figure things out).

@MisuSan: Hehe the screaming going on really makes me happy because I'm screaming right beside you all. And the momentum keeps building so hold on tight cause the remaining chapters and arc to come are definitely something.

Until next time~

Chapter 50: A Beautiful Mind

Summary:

All the right shades on the wrong page...

Notes:

Slight triggers for depression and mild gore

Metal tables crashed to the ground, sending a flurry of papers and medical tools in the air and scattering across the floor. Sounds of gunfire and toppling furniture filled the room in a deafening roar. Chaos abounded and made the hairs on his arms rise.

His companion snarled, ready to pounce at their opponent only to be snatched by the collar and roughly yanked down beside his superior who hissed, “Calm down, Atsushi! We cannot afford to damage the machine with Dazai and Violet still connected!”

The initial confusion and adrenaline in the teen’s eyes diminished a little at the admonishing. Nevertheless, the silent urgency running through his veins remained – clear in the way the tiger’s fur bristled along his arms and legs. They needed to finish this fast, yes, but if they damaged the machine there was no telling what toll it would take on their companions.

No matter what, they needed to keep them as safe as possible – a rather comical ideal given the barrage of bullets impacting the desk and other furniture around them. Reigning in his coworker was one thing, but now they had to deal with an overzealous shooter. A small hope that he’d safeguard his employer’s creation lingered yet they couldn’t take that chance. They needed to stop him now.

“Stay here and keep his attention on you,” he ordered the teen, “Don’t let him shoot anywhere near the machine.”

Atsushi nodded, already catching onto his intentions. It was one of the teen’s shinning points – one he was grateful for especially in situations like this. With a small nod, he watched as he quickly darted out of cover, easily regaining the man’s attention. Kunikida took a breath, waiting a second longer for his focus to hone in on Atsushi before making his way around the room.

With each crash and shot, his stress levels spiked and steps hastened. Fortunately he reached the point where the man would have to turn to notice him. Be that as it may, he couldn’t afford failure now. Not when he was so close. Taking a breath, Kunikida calmed himself, readying his stun gun.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale, and…

In a burst of adrenaline, he jumped out and aimed for the suspect – heart skipping a beat as he noted him level his gun directly at Atsushi. Sure, with his ability he could take the hit, however unnecessary pain was not something he wanted for the teen. Not when he could easily spare him of it.

Kunikida pulled the trigger, watching the wires connect with the man’s back and do thier purpose – shocking him violently and giving Atsushi all the opening he needed to pounce and force the man to the ground, knocking his weapon away in the process. The blonde quickly approached them, helping his companion bind the man’s arms and set him in a chair. By some stroke of luck the shock made him pass out. Be that as it may, they couldn’t risk anything and he had Atsushi keep an eye on him while approaching the machine.

Once more his heart picked up pace, voice in his ear doing him no favors, “Splendid work, detectives. Not very efficient but I suppose the end objective was achieved.”

Kunikida’s brow twitched, and he forced himself to take a deep breath before replying curtly, “It would have been appreciated if you mentioned your old partner’s accomplice.”

“Oh? I simply believed you were aware of the possibility. I will endeavor to be more explicit in our future ventures. As of now, I believe we have more pressing matters.”

As if on cue, a disconcerting beeping sounded from the devices connected to Violet and Dazai. Instantly the detectives tensed, eyes darting to where their vitals displayed on a dated screen showed dangerous spikes. Kunikida swiftly closed the distance, inwardly cursing not taking more notes of Yosano’s procedures in such circumstances.

A note of panic tinged his tone as he hissed, “What is happening?!”

“Calm down,” the Port Mafia Boss ordered sternly, voice having an almost instantaneous effect on them as they stopped in their tracks. A piece of Kunikida scowled at the reaction yet he remained silent as the man spoke, “Yokoyama-kun must be commencing his attack on their consciousness. Their brains think that the damage they’re experiencing is real and thus are falling into shock.”

“What?”

“Then how do we stop it?” Atsushi gasped, conflict marring his features as his desires to rush over to the two warred with the need to keep an eye on their unconscious attacker.

“Follow the plan,” Mori answered, “Connect the memory stick I gave you to the machine. There should be a port near one of their pods.”

Kunikida frowned yet followed the instructions nonetheless, opting for Dazai’s pod after a moment’s hesitation. If this allowed the Mafia Boss access to their minds, he’d rather the bandage man face him first if only due to the fact he held more experience than the blonde in dealing with the mafia. Although perhaps that was a mistake. Who’s to say the man didn’t see this coming and wouldn’t attack his partner in retribution so infamous of the Port Mafia?

No. He shook his head. They had to believe this would work. Ranpo would not agree to this if he saw any signs of threat to the two. As insane as it was, they needed to trust this murder. He was their best hope.

An honestly horrifying thought as Kunikida retrieved the device from his pocket and, after a breath, connected it to the machine.

 

…

 

Soft light trickled in from an open window, gentle blues and whites filling the room soothingly – the perfect picture of peace and solace. A gentle quiet rested, not oppressive or eerie, simply nice. Everything about the room was relaxing and welcoming.

Its stark contrast with the morbid halls of the hospital took him aback for a moment. Almost as if he’d been dropped into icy waters. Indeed, he’d probably remain standing there staring out the window if not for a firm tug on his arm.

“Come on,” Odasaku stated, walking out of the room.

Dazai lingered a little longer, casting a final glance at the window – its flowing curtains parting to reveal strands of familiar golden hair drift lazily in the soft light. They were shorter than those he knew and belonged to a smaller form. Violet during her youth; before she crossed paths with them. A tender smile flashed on his features.

It was nice to see such a peaceful memory existed in her past.

He passed through the door, quickly catching up to the redhead as they ran among multiple memories – scenes of Violet’s youth, of her rather simple life in school, journeying to America, competing on a swim team, enjoying life… With each memory they passed through, Dazai’s gaze pinpointed the blonde quicker and quicker until she was the first thing his eyes laid upon.

This was her life before encountering the Agency – information they longed for in the initial days yet grew distant as they came to know the woman personally. Indeed, he didn’t need to see all of this, and a part of him blushed at how intimate it was peering at her memories. Be that as it may, he paid close attention to each scene – one prompting him to hesitate in his following of Odasaku.

Violet was sitting in a room belonging to her relative – a rather lavish one as it outmatched many of the libraries he knew in its splendor and the sheer size of the collection it stored. She lounged on a couch, smile soft as always as she read from a book whose cover was a rather gaudy shade of neon pink. It easily stood out among the other more tame colors of the books piled up beside her.

However, that is not what halted his steps and prompted his eyes to open wide. No. As alarming as the shade of pink the book was, its title proved more shocking .

No Longer Human – Osamu Dazai.

Impossible. He felt his breath catch in his throat, body frozen in shock that only grew as the memory unfolded.

“You know, when you asked to come over I thought it would be more along the lines of catching up or giving me Christmas gift ideas, not raiding my study,” a tall, middle aged man chuckled, bringing with him another stack of books with more hauntingly familiar names on their spines.

Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck. The Scarlet Letter – Nathaniel Hawthorne. Rashomon – Ryunosuke Akutagawa. Vita Sexualis – Ougai Mori.

It wasn’t possible, and yet those were their names and corresponding abilities. How? And why were they reverted to books of all things? Dazai felt his stomach begin to churn anxiously – feeling only growing as his attention drifted back to the book in her hands. The one about him.

Did she know? Was she aware of his secrets – of his feelings and thoughts of those times? How much did she know? His face lost some of its color; mortification at what she could be learning making him want to puke.

And yet… If she really did know, if that book revealed his secrets somehow, then did it truly matter when she treated him like everyone else? When she presumably knew of his darkness and isolation yet accepted him anyways? When she smiled so purely at him?

Violet beamed beautifully at the man, “Well if you really want some hints, you could let me live here for starters. It would certainly make reading all of these easier.”

The man smiled warmly, settling beside her and giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, “You know you’re always welcome here, and you don’t need to sneak in to read my books. I would be happy to lend them to you.”

His books? Did that mean he was the one who wrote them? An ability user perhaps? And yet…

In all of her memories before, no presence or mention of an ability user or anything of the nature came up. Could it be that she somehow managed not to run into any? But that was impossible. Violet’s life, while unique in its own way, was not secluded. She had to have known about abilities. Or…

Could it be she came from a place where abilities were non-existent?

The very idea made him sway uneasily, mind reeling at the implications only for a voice to call his name in beat with Odasaku grabbing his shoulder. Instantly the memory greyed, slowing in its motions as he locked eyes with the redhead. Concern swirled in his sapphire eyes.

“What is it?” he managed to get out, feeling a bit faint.

Odasaku gave a sigh before speaking in a somewhat stern tone, “Don’t let yourself get caught up in her memories. If you peer too deep you’ll be lost in them forever. Whatever questions you have now, leave them. You can ask Violet herself later if it bothers you. For now, we need to make sure she makes it to later.”

“Right…” Dazai trailed off, shaking his head free from the implications of this memory in particular. It rubbed the wrong way and prompted endless questions that nagged at him. Nevertheless, he obliged and pushed past his companion into the next barrage of memories.

Focus. Don’t look back. Don’t seek out those olive eyes, that captivating smile, that melodious laughter. Push forward. Violet’s safety hinged on their success. They needed to keep going.

They passed through more scenes, not all happy or joyful, some even pulling at his attention as he heard her bitter cries. No. Dazai shook his head and continued forward, reinforcing his heart. These were all events that already occurred. He could do nothing to help her; nothing to alter her past. All he could do now was safeguard her future. He had to keep going. Just keep walking and don’t look back. Keep pressing forward…

Something that grew tremendously harder as they entered another memory only to be met with dark forms that should not exist there. Dazai tensed as one of Icarus’ demons lurched at him only to be blown back as Odasaku swiftly shot it. In a flash, he darted forward, miraculously dodging the demons’ blows and countering with well-placed shots only possible thanks to his remarkable ability.

A wave of nostalgia washed over him. How long had it been since he worked alongside the man? Dazai allowed a small smile to rest on his features, turning and shooting a demon that hid in the shadows.

Odasaku gave him a bewildered look, one that eased into acceptance as he felt his side – noting the weapon supposed to be tucked away there missing. Dazai’s smile widened a little, tone level as he commented, “Looks like we’ve got some uninvited guests. Seems like our dear host doesn’t want us barging in.”

Not to mention anticipated their plan to locate Violet via her memories. Did that mean he witnessed this too? The thought revolted him in addition to bringing a bit of skepticism. Could he have manipulated her memories? What exactly was real and what was altered? Could they trust what they see?

The detective shook his head. No. That didn’t matter. It was all just another distraction. He could ponder it later when they were all safe and out of this hellhole. Away from the demons that flooded the path before them, effectively blocking them off.

As if reacting to their presence the storm in Violet’s memory seemed to intensify – her slightly younger form gazing out the window alongside her two roommates.

The pair frowned. While confident in their ability to takedown the hoard, it would cost them valuable time. They couldn’t afford this detour – something Icarus undoubtedly counted on. Dazai narrowed his eyes. How could they get through this quickly and efficiently? What was the best route? What was the most optimal-?

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament this time, huh, Dazai-kun?”

The named stiffened, initial surprise souring near instantly. Of course. Why he was surprised for even a second that the man found his way into this.... It was completely up his alley.

“Mori-san. I wish I could say it’s nice to hear you. Unfortunately though I am quite busy at the moment,” Dazai replied in faux kindness.

“Facing Yokoyama-kun’s unfortunate victims, yes? They do present quite the handful, huh?”

Yokoyama? Dazai frowned. Was that Icarus’ true name? And victims? Did that mean this was the fate of those who lingered in this world? Subconsciously he shot a glance at Odasaku – redhead glancing up in almost innocent curiosity at the fact that his boss’ voice echoed from above.  The mere thought that he could become one of those…things revolted him.

“Eh, more of an annoyance than anything troubling,” Dazai spoke nonchalantly despite the cold glint in his eyes, “Nothing that cannot be dealt with.”

“And yet here you are lost in Violet-chan’s memories, cornered by those beasts,” the condescending note in his tone made Dazai’s jaw clench as Mori furthered in oily philanthropy, “Not that I doubt your skills, Dazai-kun, but can Violet-chan really afford the delay in front of you?”

“No more than the one that you’re prolonging. What do you want, Mori-san?”

He could feel the way the man smiled ominously, yet prevented himself from reacting as he answered, “Simply to offer a helping hand. A way to expedite things, if you will.”

Dazai raised a brow, response cut short as a red door appeared to their left, Mori clarifying, “This will lead you to Violet-chan’s most recent memories so you may reunite. That is your plan, is it not?”

A bitter smirk cut across his features, “And who’s to say that it will actually lead us in that direction and not around in circles?”

Not likely, and yet the thought of blindly trusting that man rubbed the wrong way. Logically, his presence here meant the Agency connected the dots on the outside and deemed the risk of involving Port Mafia worth the venture. They wouldn’t do so lightly. Still, the idea of relying on him… It couldn’t possibly end well.

Mori chuckled, yet before he could speak Odasaku commented, “He is speaking the truth. Beyond here are Violet’s more vibrant memories.”

Meaning they were more recent. Dazai sighed, not really expecting anything less. Still… He gazed at the redhead. How did he know simply by touching the door? Was it because he was a memory himself?

“Oh? Is that Oda-kun?”

A part of him fought between seething and puking at the name falling from his lips – at the almost casual way the redhead and doctor spoke. Words he blocked out consciously or not.

Rather than risk saying something he’d regret later, Dazai approached the door. Wounds cut raw by Icarus’ tormenting burned at the direction things were taking. He didn’t want to hear Mori converse with Odasaku – memory or not. The very notion of the two together revolted him and rubbed salt into those wounds. He could only hope that when they stepped through this door the Port Mafia Boss’ voice would cease or at the very least give them some respite.  

Be that as it may, right as his hand touched the knob, Mori spoke up, “Ah, before you go, a word of warning.”

Both paused, glancing up as the man continued darkly, “To enter Violet-chan’s most recent memories means exposing yourself to her thoughts and feelings at their greatest potency. Doing so will undoubtedly impact your psyche, perhaps to the extent where recovery is not possible. Knowing that, will you still go forward?”

Odasaku shot him a sidelong glance as Dazai smirked, answering easily, “Of course.”

Not wasting a second, he opened the door and ran through, Odasaku quickly following. True to his words, memories of the Agency and Violet interacting with them flooded the area – scenes more fluid in their transitions and disorienting in viewing himself among the figures within. Their voices, along with Violet’s thoughts, echoed around them granting a new perspective of those events.

If not for the pressing situation at hand, he would’ve enjoyed learning her side of the story. Be that as it may, he made mental note to look into a few things when they got out – a notable topic being the grey figure who trickled through the memories. The one she apparently was able to communicate with from the start. The one she dubbed Grey.

Turning from the memories, he focused on the task at hand. They were close – events of the Guild flashing around them and showcasing her journey during the period. It was easier to pass them by, especially as they gradually began lining up with his recollections. Indeed, he was able to discern a light at the end.

That was where she was without a doubt. They were almost there. Just a little-

“Interesting…” a voice, his voice murmured. An oddity that captured his attention at the worst possible moment.

He turned, meeting the memory of a dark room lit only by the light of the full moon. It was the room he left Violet in while confronting those Guild members with Chuuya. And yet… He frowned. This…this didn’t add up. He didn’t remember this – not arriving until much later when the sun kissed the horizon.

And certainly not what happened next.

Dazai staggered, eyes blown wide at what occurred – mind blanking and blood chilling. What…What was this? Was Icarus manipulating this memory? But why? To stall him? It certainly did the trick as his steps landed less certainly. Indeed, they may have tangled if not for his companion calling out urgently.

“Dazai!”

The named’s head snapped forward, quickly pinpointing the end of this maddening race. A sight that chilled his blood.

They were in Port Mafia’s dungeons, a place as familiar to him as the back of his hand with one very notable difference: Violet lying on the ground, bloodied and bruised beneath the deadly scythe plummeting her way.

Adrenaline surged, ready to propel him forward only for Odasaku to dart past him. Time slowed as the redhead swiftly shoved the blonde to the side milliseconds before the dark blade slammed into the ground – not without sending a sickening shower of blood in the air. The bandaged man tensed, eyes blown as wide as Violet’s as the man hissed in pain – his right shoulder bloodied and bearing a ghastly gash.

“O-Odasaku!” Violet gasped, horror in her voice matching the pit in his stomach he quickly shook away in favor of shooting at Icarus. Unfortunately the demon recovered from the interruption in the nick of time – dodging the shot and disappearing behind a pillar.

Dazai cursed under his breath, keeping his attention focused on the pillar even as his being screamed to assess his friend’s condition. No. Violet was with him. If it really was as bad as it looked she could help. Her memories revealed she held medical knowledge. She would help him. He wouldn’t die. He would be okay. He had to be okay.

Despite repeating those words like a mantra, a grimace marred his features – phantoms of that horrid day once more replaying in his mind. Would he be forced to live through that nightmare once more?

“Don’t worry, I will be fine,” Odasaku reassured in a pained voice, “I’m just a memory, right? There’s no need to worry about-”

“That’s not true!” Violet snapped, surprising both as the brunette tilted his head slightly to catch tears brimming her olive eyes, “You’re not just some memory! You’re important, you’re Odasaku! Don’t act like it’s no big deal if you get hurt!”

Odasaku blinked, expression softening as he pet her head as Violet rubbed away the tears, speaking soothingly, “Sorry, but I don’t regret protecting you. After all, I was born from your memory. If you die, then I will disappear.”

What? Dazai’s eyes widened. Odasaku…this Odasaku was from Violet’s memories? Given what he witnessed in that library, it was not totally a surprise and yet the very idea shook him. If he really was a product of the blonde’s memories, then that only testified to how intimate her knowledge of them was. How did she come across all of this? He grimaced. If only he could have spent a little longer in that memory…

“Huh?” Violet sounded just as surprised, “But… Surely at least some part of you is Dazai’s memories.”

“Yes, but if the base disappears, then regardless of what it merged with it will dissipate as well. Either way, I won’t let any harm come to you two. Please, feel free to use me as your shield.”

The blonde bristled, ready to object only for Dazai to beat her to it, finally turning to snap, “No!”

Both flinched watching the initial anger on his features transform into a look of complete exhaustion as he chuckled weakly, “You can be quite cruel at times, huh Odasaku? Using you as a shield? What sort of friends would we be if I simply accepted that?”

Turning, he refocused his attention on the shadows where Icarus lingered, murderous intent filling the air and creating an almost nostalgic feeling given the room they stood in. A small grin twisted his lips as he finished, “I may no longer be an executive, but allow me to indulge in the memory and give one last order: Do not die, Odasaku. No matter what, you must live. Got it?”

A soft chuckle sounded from the man as the two stumbled to their feet, Violet lending her shoulder to him as they came to stand beside the detective who aimed his gun at the silver demon scowling at them. A demeaning glint lit his carnelian eyes, all of those horrors and pain he experienced coming back in startling clarity. Revenge was a tempting dish, one he now sat in front of as his lips curled darkly.

“Well, why don’t you come into the light? It’s about time we end this, right?”

He felt him attempt to alter their surroundings, a feat he may have been able to accomplish with Violet’s weak grasp on the area. However, unlike the blonde, he knew this place intimately. Well enough to shut down Icarus’ efforts, only deepening the hatred in his silver eyes as he spat at them acidly.

“You cannot keep me here!” he snarled, summoning his scythe once more, “I created this world, I am the one who controls it!”

The man charged toward him, Violet gasping his name as his lips curled, “You think so?”

However, before the tip of his weapon could come within range, the pillar beside him abruptly collapsed on top of him. Behind, Violet and Odasaku radiated such sheer astonishment he didn’t even need to glance back to see their expressions while his own twisted into a victorious smirk.

“You know,” he approached the rubble, speaking casually while twirling the gun in his hand as if it was a harmless toy, “As revolting as it was to feel you try and infect my consciousness, there was a small silver lining.”

Within the debris, Icarus emerged – battered yet undeniably livid as he glared daggers at the bandaged man who leveled an equally detesting gaze back at him, “You may have created this world, but you lost control the moment you got here. After all, the dungeons of Port Mafia are my territory.”

Icarus grit his teeth, pure loathing exploding into a furious yell as he darted from the rubble – mania lining his silver eyes focused on one thing alone: killing the man before him. No longer was he concerned in possessing his body. No. That intention long since vanished and in its place a beastly desire to snuff out the prodigy that so vividly reflected its predecessor.

“Ougai!” he screamed viciously, swinging his scythe in a deadly arch sure to decapitate the man much to the horror of his companions who flinched to protect the brunette only to stagger at what followed.

Time slowed as Dazai sighed, letting his eyes fall half-closed as he bowed – almost as if reverently accepting the end he was so fascinated in. One that he would await another time as, in the last moments, he ducked beneath the lethal blade and in one precise motion, aimed Odasaku’s gun and pulled the trigger.

Specks of crimson blood and fragments of his hair briefly hung suspended in the air before joining the silver-eyed man on the ground.

Stunned silence filled the area. He could feel their eyes – her eyes pinning him in shock and disbelief. What was she thinking now? Did he dare peer into her recent memories to find out? What would he see? Disgust? Abhorrence? Fear? Aversion? He didn’t know, and a part of him didn’t want to find out.

He didn’t want to see whatever expression she must be wearing in that moment, and fortunately for him the dying man beneath him presented a wonderful distraction.

Dazai gazed down at Icarus, the man’s mouth leaking blood alongside the mortal wound to the left side of his chest – right where his theoretical heart lay. Given his weak sputtering and draining color, he at least held one anatomically.

“You know, you’re not the first one to compare me to Mori-san. Many people have, including the man himself. Honestly I find the very idea revolting. Still,” he sighed, averting his gaze to grudgingly admit, “I cannot deny the truth in those words, and I agree with his decision as it pertains to you. We are alike in that manner and in many more. And yet…”

The bandaged man refocused his attention on the man, eyes gaining notes of clarity as he declared, “I am not Mori-san, but if it means protecting Yokohama, then I will follow in his footsteps and see an end to this madness.”

A bitter, weak huff left Icarus’ lips, immediately cut short by a bought of wet coughs he croaked through, “Bastard…! Do you…understand what…killing me entails?”

His features twisted, a demented smile distorting his features as he continued darkly, “You are…dooming every consciousness trapped here…they will all…die – including that friend of yours! You are killing him!”

If not for his experience in crafting a formidable mask, perhaps he would have silenced him that moment. Be that as it may, Dazai stared in cold indifference at the final uttering of a dying man. Dying? No.

Icarus had been dead for years now – he was merely putting to rest a ghost that lingered far too long.

“Do you think that bothers me?” he rebutted softly, a wry smile stretching his lips in the process, “I’ve killed countless. You think adding a few more will make any difference?”

Silver eyes narrowed, yet this time a hint of something unusual lit their depths – something that briefly took him aback. Was that…pity? Dazai huffed internally, ready to retort the reaction only for the man to retrieve it just as quickly as it appeared.

“You…really are a demon… Far worse than Ougai…could ever be… Although I suppose now…I am finally free…” he rasped, eyes beginning to lose their light as his head rested fully on the ground, “Huh… How ironic… To think a demon…could actually save someone… I’ll see you…in hell…”

A light smile rested on his features as Dazai watched the remnants of life fade from the man, murmuring as he did so, “Do make sure to brush up on your hospitality before then. You were quite the insufferable host.”

No response came, instead that horrid silence returned – this time with no outlet to run away to. Should he play a lighthearted trick? Perform another clowning act? It worked well in the past, and yet… Behind him stood two people who’d seen past that – who’d witnessed his true colors time and time again. Such efforts would be useless, and besides…

He was far too exhausted to put up the effort anymore.

Dazai raised his head, gazing into the dark ceiling of the dungeon that slowly began distorting. Like Odasaku said, without the base the creation falls apart. Without Icarus this world lost whatever it was that held it together. The memories were dying, along with whatever unfortunate souls remained trapped here.

He’d killed them – all of them without a second thought to protect Yokohama. How ironic. He really was like the Port Mafia Boss. Ready to wade in the blood of countless to achieve his goal and protect the city that he didn’t even feel like he belonged to. One he merely saved because of the man it once harbored.

The man whom he, like his predecessor, sacrificed in order to protect a disgustingly beautiful place that couldn’t care less about him.

Dazai swayed, self-disgust, despair, and fury at everything bubbling up. Shakily, he raised a hand to cover his face, knowing the expression he made must look wretched and broken beyond repair. Something entirely inhuman. A monster. Yes. He was a monster – a demon that only brought death. Something that could never hold onto any-

A sudden coolness enveloped his hand still holding onto the gun, juxtaposition to the fire burning him alive startling even as he gave virtually no reaction. In a smooth motion, the weapon was pulled from his hand. Carnelian eyes swiveled over to meet gentle peridot framed by golden curls and dried blood.

“Dazai…”

Her voice felt both relieving and tormenting – as if saying it was alright. How could that be? How could any of this be alright? He wanted to scream and yell, to vent the demons snarling in his head. To give voice to the fears that haunted him.

To ask her how she could possibly look at, let alone touch something as broken as him.

Yet in the end, no words came as he turned his hand and held onto her smaller one. It did not suit the actions of a demon, and would probably doom her in the end. Be that as it may… He felt compelled to hold on. To cling to this light that so foolishly accepted him and believed in him despite everything.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Odasaku join them – placing a hand on his shoulder even as his form began distorting like the room around them. The world was falling apart, and yet a soft smile graced his features.

Allowing his eyes to rest, Dazai leaned his head forward, pressing against their foreheads as the world around them slowly crumbled apart.

Notes:

Another long chapter as this arc comes to a close, and the next chapter makes me giddy. Maybe if I finish it early I'll post it in advanced?

@ seneca: Haha yes, 50 chapters for me is definitely short as I found myself to be quite the long story writer. Honestly, after this point I considered breaking the story off into a separate "book" and making it a part of a series, but in the end decided this is just going to be a marathon of a story.
I'll say this arc was super fun to write and another one I'd been looking forward to as Violet finally communicates with Dazai - not to mention Evil Within is just an amazing game overall and really sparks those questions of morality and whether you can truly believe what you remember.
Well, I don't know if it was as heartwrenching as you expected but I did try to tie in elements from No Longer Human as I believe that is how Dazai feels at his core. Still, the thought of the three of them together in the end is rather beautiful.

Thank you all for the wonderful support ♥ Until next time~

Chapter 51: Until Dawn

Summary:

Hold onto the light as you enter the darkness

Blinding light surrounded us, devouring everything. If not for Dazai’s hand gripping mine and Odasaku holding onto my wrist, the possibility of losing myself in the white abyss was a very real thing. Time passed. How long? Beats me. Only that in one moment we were huddled together waiting for the end and in the next the light burning at the backs of our eyelids faded to a softer luminescence.

No burning sensations or pain or whatever it is one feels when they literally disappear from existence came – all the push we needed to tentatively pull away from our preemptive huddle. What met us was a dimly lit room full of clutter: covered tables, dusty shelves packed with books and other miscellaneous items, papers scattered along the floors, and wires ranging in size coiling everywhere.

It was only when I turned that I realized what, or rather who they were connected to.

“That’s…us?” my voice sounded despite the wave of numb shock overtaking me as I stared at myself.

I heard somewhere that if you ever were to see your doppelgänger you’d never recognize them. Something about the fact that the only time you see yourself is in an inverse manner typical of mirrors. Guess it sorta made sense, but so did the other theory that you’d just plain go insane. Glad to say I didn’t lose whatever was left of my mind. Still the sight of wires connecting to our heads and into some massive machine made my stomach churn.

A glance at Dazai showed the same unease under a much better crafted mask as he murmured, “Yokoyama’s lab, huh…?”

Yoko-who? The question was poised on the tip of my tongue, only for a rather unexpected voice to chime in. Or, I suppose, not that unexpected given Icarus’ final words…The ones that left Dazai with that scary expression and hollow eyes – a look that terrified me in more ways than one and nearly blocked out the words of his former mentor and boss.

“Looks like you all have made it out in one piece. Good. After losing connection with you, I began to entertain the idea that something terrible occurred.”

Mori. Geez. Why’d he sound almost upset that we made it out? Was he hoping for some climatic battle? I mean, aside from the shock and horror factor, it really wasn’t all that – nothing like what you’d see in a movie. But then again, after everything we went through it was more than enough. But that’s all beside the point.

“Mori?” I blinked up, finding nothing but the ceiling. Odd. I could’ve sworn his voice came from that direction… Although if we really were connected to some machine and unconscious, then a disembodied voice echoing from above seemed rather suiting.

“A pleasure to hear your voice as always, Violet-chan. Shame that when Dazai-kun left your more distant memories I couldn’t listen in as well.”

Wait, what? More distant memories? I shot a glance at Odasaku. That wasn’t a part of the plan. They were only supposed to go through my recent memories – specifically those of the past couple of days. What did he see? God… My stomach dropped. Did he learn about the truth of this world? By the way he wasn’t going insane I had to believe that was a no, and yet…

I caught his carnelian gaze. Lord. I was in for the interrogation of a lifetime...

“Don’t worry Violet-chan, I’ll keep your secrets safe,” the brunette winked, tone casual as always yet only making my stomach sink further. Hopefully whatever he saw was just some stupid things I did as a kid and maybe a shower scene or what not…

Wait. No. That’s worse. Dazai, seeing me naked? Geez. My cheeks began burning. Was there any good solution to this?

Mori’s bemused chuckle only rubbed salt into those wounds, making me want to bury my head. Alas I could do nothing but pray that whatever miracles I hadn’t already used up would spare me from further mortification. However, by the way Odasaku blinked innocently between us, I felt another chagrin coming our way fast.

Fortunately or not, our time was coming to an end, something Mori made clear as he spoke, “I have begun the process of extracting your consciousness from Yokoyama-kun’s invention. It will take some time, but given your location at the heart of that reality, you needn’t worry about getting caught up in the collapse.”

So much was said in the span of 20 seconds that it took my mind a moment to register everything. Yokoyama’s invention? Did he mean Icarus? He had to have. In a roundabout way it made sense he was crazy enough to invent some nightmare machine like this. As for collapse… That could only mean the destruction of this place thanks to Icarus’ death. At least when it came to reassurances, Mori was pretty up there on the list. Sure, he could be lying, but what was the point in that? We were safe and finally getting out of this-

Just as quickly as my elation came, it took a nosedive upon glancing at our companion. Odasaku. He was a memory – someone whose physical form long since died in the real world. Which meant that when the destruction reached this part, he would…

Catching our attention, the redhead gazed our way with that typical stoic Odasaku look. Our silence must have said something as Mori added softly, “You have a few minutes left. I suggest doing what you will with that time.” As if sensing Dazai’s frown, he added, “I will be busy with the extraction process, but I look forward to catching up with the two of you on the other side.”

Silence followed as we simply stared at each other, waiting for the first person to speak. It was sobering and depressing. A sad twist on what should’ve been a happy ending. Then again, what did we expect? It was a miracle in and of itself to meet Odasaku here. We all knew that. We all knew this was coming the moment we met here.

Who knew it could be this hard?

The redhead stepped forward, breaking the silence and approaching me first with a small smile. Without saying a word, he ruffled my hair – typical annoyance from the action disappearing in the wake of the emotions ravaging my heart. I wanted to smile and let this be some nice parting, but the pain and tears threatening to surface made it difficult.

Strong arms wrapped around me, and I hugged him back, trying to memorize Dazai’s memory of the smoky, sandalwood scent of him as he murmured, “It was nice to meet you, Violet. Good to see that after all this time Dazai is in the company of a good friend.”

Friend. Geez. He really was making it hard not to cry.

Burying my face into his shoulder to keep the tears in, I whispered, “I wish you could come with us. He misses you a lot, you know?”

Odasaku hummed, “Yeah, but he’s grown far more than he would have if I survived. It’s for the best, even Dazai understands that.”

Sure. But that certainly didn’t make this any easier. Ahh…

Taking a breath, I pulled away to smile weakly up at him, “Thank you for everything, Odasaku. Wish we could’ve had the chance for a normal talk and maybe some curry.”

A spark of interest and lightheartedness flickered in his gaze as he chuckled, ruffling my hair once more, “Yeah that would have been nice.” His smile rested gently on his features as he stepped past me to speak with his old friend, however, right as he passed my shoulder, he murmured under his breath, “Take care of him for me, alright?”

And there goes any self-control I had left. Tears dampened my cheeks and I had to cover my mouth to keep the soft cries from escaping. No. This couldn’t end badly. We had to be happy – we had to leave on a positive note. Pull in those tears. Take a breath. Don’t cry…

Inhaling deeply, I wiped away the tears on my face and looked up to find a white door that hadn’t been there before. This must be the exit Mori referred to. Meaning our time was up.

But not before the most painful part as I approached the door and looked back to the heartwarming scene of Odasaku ruffling Dazai’s hair as the brunette chuckled – picture of an innocent child he never had the chance to be. The pair exchanged words I was too terrified to listen in on lest I burst out sobbing. Instead, I let my gaze wander, waiting for them to finish their goodbyes for a second, hopefully less heart-wrenching, time.

A few moments later, Dazai approached. I tried my best to give what ideally was a reassuring look, but the way my eyes stung meant I was doing a lousy job. In response, he gave a gentle smile that tore my heart perhaps more than that brief glimpse earlier.

There were remnants of tears clinging to his lashes.

Oooh, breathe. Just breathe…

“You ready?” he spoke softly, holding out a hand I meekly accepted.

“Yeah…”

He reached for the knob, but not without us simultaneously looking back one last time at the redhead. His attention was fixated on another door – outside shinning in a splendid dappled light from the windows on either side. Peering closer I could make out small shapes… What were…?

Oh. I bit my lip. The children. The ones he rescued. God… Tears blurred my vision at the tender smile Odasaku gave as he approached the door. It was moving beyond belief, and I might have lost myself in it if not for Dazai giving my hand a squeeze.

I turned, finding his face tilted away from mine so as to obscure his eyes as he murmured, “Let’s go, Violet-chan…”

Without another word, we stepped through the door – finding some peace in the thought that wherever Odasaku’s memory ended up, it was in a good place surrounded by the children he gave so much for.

 

…

 

Muffled voices drifted in and out of focus, gradually coming together and clarifying. They sounded familiar, but too obscure to pinpoint. Who was it? What were they saying?

“Violet? Hey, can you hear me?”

“Violet-san?”

Ah… That was…

Slowly I opened my eyes, feeling as if I hadn’t slept in days. My body felt heavy and weak, like I’d run a marathon untrained. Where…? I glanced around, finding a dimly lit room. Yokoyama or Icarus or whoever’s lab, and in the forefront…

“Atsushi…? Kunikida…?”

The pair visibly lost ten pounds of stress as I rasped out their names, nearly falling into a coughing fit with how dry my throat felt. As if sensing this, Atsushi graciously offered me a cup of water while the blonde helped me sit up in what I soon discovered to be the pod I saw myself lying in earlier. Thankfully they decided to remove all the wires before I woke.

And while I was grateful for that and the water, a more pressing concern consumed me as my eyes instinctually searched for another figure, “Where’s…?”

“Over here, Violet-chan,” Dazai spoke up from where he sat in a pod adjacent to mine, his legs swinging over the edge like some kid on an examination table as he held a half full glass of water in his hand. Relief swept over me.

Thank goodness, he was okay. Well, at least physically. I mean, who’s to tell how we were on a mental and psychological standpoint. Sharing minds with a killer and who knows how many other people couldn’t be good for the psyche. Still, as of now we seemed relatively okay, and that was about good enough for me.

I shifted to mirror the brunette’s position, action causing my dress to brush against my legs. It was a bit odd – kinda trippy really. I mean, in that world I saw it get torn in half and got so used to wearing Dazai’s coat. Sure, it was nice to have it back in one piece (well, mostly since there was a small tear on one side) but it felt a bit chilly. Though that could just be because we were underground.

Taking a sip of water felt amazing to my throat and I relished in it as Kunikida filled us in, “You two have been missing a little over a day, but fortunately whatever was in those IVs seemed to at least keep you somewhat stable.”

“Aww, and you all rushed to our rescue so swiftly this time!” Dazai smiled, “How touching. Although, could this mean that you actually are against my dearest desires?”

“Shut up. The only reason we came was because you got Violet caught up in all of this,” the blonde growled.

“Huh? How cruel!” Dazai lamented dramatically, “To so callously accuse me of purposely leading her into danger when I was an innocent victim myself. You wound me, Kunikida-kun.”

The two continued bickering like nothing, like we weren’t in some creepy, dusty underground black lab after surviving a maniac trying to crack open his skull. It was honestly quite entertaining. How long had it been since such a carefree scene between the two unfolded before me? Felt like ages. Sure there’d been plenty of times lately, but it never was quite the same considering I couldn’t really understa-

Wait. Understand. I understood them. I knew what they were saying clearly.

Tears welled up in my eyes. How freaking ironic. After all this time, the internal translator finally kicked in. Shame it took surviving a mental nightmare and hordes of other trials. But I suppose better late than never.

“Violet-san,” I turned to find two stunning dichromatic eyes glance my way worriedly, “Are you alright?”

Right crying and interrupting the other two’s bickering. Still… I wiped away the tears and shook my head, “Yes. More than alright actually.”

“Huh?”

“Atsushi,” I smiled, “I understand you. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, I do. But what does that-?” the look of realization coming across his features made me giddy – excitement infectious as the teen beamed, “You… You understand us!”

I nodded as his smile widened as did mine to the point it hurt a little but I was too happy to care as he took my hand and continued, “That’s amazing! How is this possible? I mean, I know you’ve been working hard to learn how to talk, but to think it all came together so suddenly.”

“We have Yokoyama-san to thank for that,” Dazai chimed in, gathering our attention as he continued upon the teen’s confused (and honestly adorable) tilt of the head, “We could communicate inside due to shared information from the link. Based on the look of things, that connection was strong enough to remain intact on the outside.”

Who would’ve thought that jerk actually contributed to something I wanted from the very start. Once again, irony at its finest.

“Hmm, the Port Mafia’s Boss said something similar, although I can’t say I’m terribly relieved to see he was correct,” Kunikida added with a small frown.

“Mori?” Dazai and I tensed, eyes darting every which way to pinpoint the man. That’s right; he was speaking to us in that world. Did that mean he was here? But where-?

“He’s not here,” Kunikida halted our search with a rather irritated voice, explaining upon our frown, “He never was, although he did send a lackey to pick up the guy who kidnapped you. Can’t say I’m too eager to believe he’s sending him to the proper authorities.”

“Not without a few questions of his own, I’m sure,” Dazai agreed ominously.

“Whatever the case, the two of you are getting checked out by Yosano-sensei when we return. If you are going to fall into insanity, I’d like to at least have some forewarning,” Kunikida sighed, turning to gather a few things on the tables.

Go insane? Us? I mean, I didn’t feel particularly crazy. Did crazy people feel crazy? Or was it just like some drunken stupor that doesn’t go away? Hmm. Questions…

“Are you calling us crazy, Kunikida-kun? How unbecoming,” Dazai chided lightly, “I’ll have you know, I am perfectly sane.”

“If you’re perfectly sane then I’m a madman…” the blonde muttered, prompting the brunette to smirk in amusement.

Nice to see they weren’t letting the overarching concern about Mori’s presence get to them. By that small glint in their eyes, they knew just as well as I did that the man wanted something from this – that he certainly wasn’t doing this from the goodness of his heart. Ideally all he wanted was to tie up a loose end, but you can never be too sure with the guy.

But that could wait for another day. Yeah, for now some actual sleep and food sounded amazing. Kinda ironic given we were under for over a day, but then what we went through could hardly be called rest in any sense of the word.

After a moment to regain our strength, we set off – finally leaving that horrid lab. The forest outside, while a bit ominous with the sun setting and casting dark shadows everywhere, was a nice change. The wind we felt was real, the coolness touching my skin was real, the pine scent was real… Everything was real – not a memory. It was nice, even as the lingering pain of who we left behind remained.

Although, as corny as it sounds, perhaps he would live on in our memories.

I glanced toward Dazai as he conversed casually with Atsushi ahead of me – Kunikida taking the lead to guide us back to where they parked. Apparently it wasn’t that far away but still a bit of a walk. Good. My stiff muscles needed the exercise.

Through it all, I remained silent. Guess old habits die hard. I finally understood them and held the capability of talking, but felt the need for some quiet. From the way they didn’t push for conversation, they respected that. Thank goodness. We had a ton to talk about when we got back anyways. At least now I could just relish in the quiet.

Not to mention the spectacular view as we exited the forest and came up on a rather large hill bathed in a mesmerizing golden light.

It was so peaceful and dreamlike – the setting sun casting warm golden halos around us, creating that beautiful scene photographers waited so eagerly for. Seeing it now, it made perfect sense. Serenity like that while light at the end of horror movies enveloped us like a blanket. Apparently it truly was a thing. Made me value sunsets all the more as I stopped to gaze at the trio as they continued forward rather poetically.

Remember. Remember this. Sear it into my memory. Because as bad as things were going to get, I wanted to hold onto this peaceful warmth. Maybe it would help, maybe it wouldn’t, but at the very least I wanted to hold onto this intimate moment. Because it testified that while I did not technically belong among them or in this world, my presence was not the scourge I feared it would be.

That it too could be a source of something this beautiful.

Dazai paused, apparently noticing one less set of footsteps, and turned back, words dangling on his lips, “Violet-chan, are you-?”

You know that moment where everything suddenly flips on its head and there’s that second of nothingness that lasts far longer than it should? It was happening now – most vivid in Dazai’s facial expression that changed from its typical casual smile to one of unmistakable horror. Seeing as there are only a select few things in this world that can accomplish that reaction, you can imagine how far my stomach dropped.

And it only fell further as Atsushi, noting the oddity, followed his mentor’s gaze alongside Kunikida. It only took them seconds to mimic his shock in their own variations.

Oh gosh. Oh gosh. My heart pounded so hard I felt like puking. Whatever it was that prompted that was right behind me, I knew it. But my nerves screamed not to look. Because whatever scared them terrified me. I say that as if I could actually move my frozen muscles.

“It is a nice view. A tragedy it cannot remain like this forever…”

Warm breath brushed against my ear, and while the voice murmuring it was probably not loud enough for the others to hear, it sounded like screeching. Or maybe that was me?

Like a wire snapping, adrenaline and fight or flight kicked in. Suddenly the meager distance between us felt like miles, and I wanted nothing more than to face this terror among them. Unfortunately, right as my legs shifted forward, a pair of hands ensnared me against a firm chest.

The scream rising in my throat died to a disbelieving gasp as I at last figured out who petrified Dazai so badly. Like it was actually a question. Please only one person could unsettle that man this badly. Sure, an argument can be made for another, but if anything they really only made him cringe in my opinion. Sadly that person was far from here, and for once I actually wished he wasn’t.

Cause when it comes to Fyodor Dostoevsky, the armada that follows Mori around is never a bad thing.

Forget terror, I was petrified. Arguably the most deadly villain in the series had his hands wrapped around my waist and shoulders, pinning one of my arms to my side. Hands that killed by merely touching someone. How was I still alive? Because we technically weren’t touching skin to skin? Or… My stomach sank (at this rate it was going to end up in the center of the Earth). Did he have control over it?

Either way, death literally had me in its icy grip; my voice trembled as I weakly squirmed, finding his hold far stronger than I gave his lanky appearance credit for, “L-Let go!”

If he heard, he ignored me. Can’t say if that made me happy or not. On the one hand being ignored is never fun. Yet not being the center of Fyodor’s attention probably increased my lifespan by a few seconds. Still, with his firm grip, I don’t think those seconds mattered much.

Shock made my vision tunnel on the one person who held a chance in getting me out alive, he too vanishing as Fyodor cruelly covered my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. Any second now his ability would activate and kill me. I wanted to scream. To cry. To desperately call out to Dazai, Atsushi, Kunikida – anyone. But everything froze under his touch. Did he anticipate this terror? Or was it a pleasant surprise for him?

The touch of his breath brushing my cheek only made things ten times worse. It was bad enough feeling him press against my back, but now I nearly puked at how my blinded senses immediately jumped to the insane conclusion that he transformed into some monstrous, demonic snake. Sadly, it felt more real in that moment than the air I sparsely breathed.

“Good evening, detectives,” he greeted calmly, “If it is not too much trouble, I will be borrowing this fair lady for a while.”

Yes. Yes it is too much trouble. Trouble for my sanity and lifespan.

A clicking sound faintly echoed in the silence that followed, Kunikida replying curtly, “Unfortunately, Sir, Violet is returning from an exhausting job and must accompany us back. If you wish to speak with her, you may request an appointment with her for another time.”

Bravado of the naïve, or just Kunikida not giving a crap for someone who’d later torment him and the rest of the Agency? If only it could ease my stress and the rising tension. I feel that, if anything, it only decreased my lifespan more.

“Is that so?” bile rose in my throat as his hair brushed against my cheek, arm slacking in its grip. Not like it mattered given how petrified I was. Heck, it was a miracle I could still draw in sparse breaths. Did he see this? Or was this another taunt?

“As it stands, I am afraid I cannot oblige with your request. However, I will take care in providing a comforting atmosphere for her while we reminisce.” Fyodor’s voice rumbled down my back.

Yeah, and by comforting he means strapped to a chair with a lousy cushion as opposed to a metal one. Heck, at this rate it was better than being ensnared by him both physically and, very quickly, mentally. If this dragged on any longer then I wouldn’t have to worry about anything cause the stress would have already killed me long before his torture or ability had the chance.

Stress that quickly morphed into terror as he tugged us an inch back – one that felt like a mile to my blinded eyes as I stammered the name of the only one who held the slimmest chance of getting me out of this, “D-Dazai!”

Fyodor chuckled at my panic. Good, at least one of us is happy. Glad not all of us are miserable and about to puke.

Still, for facing off his deadly rival, Dazai was oddly quiet. Maybe it was all mainly narrowed eyes and the gist – things I unfortunately missed thanks to a hand pressing against my eyes. Or perhaps they were squaring each other up? Fine. Just do so without Raskolnikov pressed against my back.

Another clicking noise sounded – only this one spiked the tension to deadly levels that I could practically touch. Something happened. What? Did someone else come in? Port Mafia? Or maybe Agatha? Oh gosh. We were all doomed if she suddenly popped in.

Why though? Did they all suddenly realize what I knew? I mean maybe Dazai, but there was no way the others did. Unless they managed to listen in. Gosh. I really was screwed in that case. Or, rather, a freaking juicy steak to these savage wolves.

Dazai finally speaking in a way I knew his face was a carefully calculated mask brought an odd hope that grated the wrong way against my skin, “And what makes you believe I’d let you take her, let alone walk away?”

Yikes. Can only imagine the stares that prompted from the others. Guess my dilemma was important enough to hold back questions, but you can bet there’d definitely be some later for both of us. Glad I wasn’t going to be the only one strapped to a chair and interrogated.

I say as if I will actually survive until that point as Fyodor and Dazai swapped roles – the demon now remaining eerily quiet in that way you know is terrible, especially considering evil masterminds who gave people like Dazai, Ranpo, and Mori a run for their money. If only it could’ve been Mori. At least then I knew I held some vague chance of survival and reassurance against other things. Unfortunately the motives and tactics Fyodor used were terrifyingly unknown. For all I knew, he held not even the faintest moral restraints the doctor possessed.

Fyodor’s hand shifted lazily along my side, fingers curling just enough to add a little pressure but not enough to nudge the lump from where it lingered in my throat. This was freaking hell, but the horror I knew awaited if he pulled me away from them was much worse. It chilled me to the bone as I gave a weak thrash, pushing against the hands covering my torso, shoulder, and face.

Oh God. Anatomy was never my strong suit, but even five year olds know one basic truth about normal people. And while he was anything but average, Fyodor still only had two hands. So, the horrifying question remains: who did the third one belong to?

“How scary,” Fyodor spoke demeaningly, pulling me closer and at last letting his hand descend from my eyes to curl around my neck, “I’ll keep that in mind the next time we meet.”

Horrified eyes met me when my vision finally adjusted to the light, only creating new layers of ice along my skin as everyone stared back in shock. My heart pounded as the third hand tugged us back into a dark tear that slowly consumed us. Tear. Warp. Oh gosh. This wasn’t a mystery. Who else could be crazy enough to work with Fyodor but Nikolai Gogol?

A man who held the ability to transverse space. Enough to make a perfect escape from otherwise certain capture.

My heart practically leapt out of my throat, adrenaline spiking with fear as I thrashed in Fyodor’s grip, reaching out to the last thread of hope I had, “Dazai!”

Adrenaline buzzed along my skin as he lunged forward.

Everything happened so fast. Weird, thought time slowed in these situations. Instead, it was all I could do to make sense of things. Dazai’s hand neared mine swiftly – certainly fast enough to make it in time. His eyes blazed, creating a color that lingered in my memory. Indeed, it captured my full attention. They reassured me, and told me he would make it in time. He would pull me from this nightmare. Everything would be okay.

Only for the warmth of his fingers millimeters away to abruptly vanish as darkness consumed us – throwing us into a disorienting whirlwind where any sense of up or down disappeared.

All too quickly it stopped and turned into what looked like one of those metal containers you see on trains. We staggered back; well, more like I did as Fyodor gracefully regained his bearings in seconds. I, on the other hand, was a menace to our balance. It was a miracle he managed to right us in time. Then again, if he fell I might have had a slim chance of escaping… I say that like getting past the wormhole guy is a simple walk in the park.

“You know, Dos-kun, when you asked for my help, I believed it to be a little different than this…” Nikolai’s voice dully sounded around us, only to curl in amusement as he added, “Still, a woman? Congratulations! I never thought this day would come. She must be quite the special lady to capture your attention.”

Yay me. What I wouldn’t give to be an average doe right now.

My stomach was still playing around on the trapeze, rendering me mute. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening. I mean, this couldn’t be real, right? I just gained the ability to talk to them – to understand them only to get taken away? This was insane. Impossible. I was still in Icarus’ hell world. That had to be it. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t-

Fyodor’s chuckle vibrated down my spine, his voice a poisonous silk as he squeezed me a little closer, “Well, she certainly is an unforgettable face. One who stands apart from everyone in more ways than one…”

What was he-? Oh no. Could he have-?! It’s not possible! And yet this is Fyodor, so theoretically… A gasp rose, yet before it could escape my throat suddenly constricted – sound cutting short. Instantly my body convulsed, attempting to save itself as oxygen slowly trickled to a stop as Fyodor tightened his grip around my neck.

Was he trying to suffocate me? After all that? Why? What purpose did that serve? I didn’t know, and very quickly felt the room sway. Pressure built and fear chilled my veins. I was going to die. He was killing me.

No! I thrashed vainly, digging my nails into his wrist and tugging at his vice grip. Incomprehensible noises escaped, causing him to smirk. It was one of the last things I saw before blackness ate my vision. Fyodor’s eyes glinted malevolently as he watched my body steadily lose strength as I drowned in the abyss.  

Previously I’d welcome such, but now… It wasn’t fair. We just escaped Icarus. We were supposed to be safe. So why? Why was this happening?

Tears numbly dampened my cheeks as the burning pressure grew too much for me to handle. My skull was going to shatter. I was going to die. Everything hurt and I just wanted the pressure to go away. But it lingered, even as aspixiation claimed my consciousness at last.

Yet not even that soothed me as phantoms of Dazai reaching out only to fall short played over and over again. Evidently, demons lurked in the shadows no matter where I went.

Notes:

No rest for the wicked. Honestly, I'm probably going to try and speed through this dark little arc since we're running headfirst into the main trigger warnings of the series and probably its darkest parts. I'll be sure to add warnings, but they'll pretty much be the same for the next 8-9 chapters. Let's just say, Violet isn't going anywhere good, but given Fyo is anyone honestly surprised (side note though, I am super giddy because Fyo is prob my favorite or close to it in terms of villains and characters in the series)

@uwuscope: Aww thank you ♥ That's amazing to hear and makes me feel super flustered. Be sure to check out other stories on this wonderful site too - there's some extraordinary ones better than some books I've read floating around.

@lipstickgremlin: Haha yes it was a joy writing that chapter too and reading all of your comments and just being like "Mmmmmmmmm I don't know about that." Think that's what I enjoy the most about writing - adding those small little details that point to stuff like this but most readers don't pick up on until points like this and then go to re-read the chapter to pinpoint those signs. Drives people insane but is so much fun to write~

@MisuSan: Careful is an understatement but yes, Violet needs to be extremely careful from here on - and not just because of Dazai. After all, how long has Fyo been watching, I wonder?

@ilover: Aww thank you~ But field trips are fun too! I can't remember the last time I went on one. Downside of college life I suppose but then again we do have more freedom for mini vacays. Oooh, catching on huh? Love the subtle hints and since this is a super slow burn, they make a nice simmer~ Hahaha yes, both definitely fall into the lovesick fool category by this point.

@seneca: Yes, yes. Not very good for Violet, but a scene I had stashed away since a little after beginning the series so a fun one to see finally come to life. And yep, I'd imagine it'd be quite difficult to hide things from Dazai, but then again this delves into an entirely different arena than he's used to so who knows, maybe Violet has some hope in that discussion. Definitely. I think when I was writing the chapter I meant for it to be a bit longer of a confrontation but then realized how long the chapter already was and the fact that Dazai would likely want to make it quick (not to mention the level of cruelty in his actions then was not unlike his Mafia self).
Lol your addition was wonderful and I feel the pain (I have to wake up at 4am for work; the struggle is real). I really liked that addition too even if it was a bit last minute as I needed something to wrap up things and was content in letting the poor bandaged guy have a moment of peace (also the mental image of the trio like that made me smile alongside the one of Odasaku and Dazai & Oda going to the children in this one). Yes, and it breaks my heart to think that Dazai-sensei felt anywhere near this broken and isolated. Haha maybe, especially as we get to this point in the arc. Honestly the tag should just be Everyone Needs a Hug at this point.
Hmmm, if it is not this Dazai I wonder who it is?

 

See you all maybe soon?

Chapter 52: Descent

Summary:

Here we are in the heart of the darkness

Notes:

Warnings for torture & graphics

Waking up came slower and heavier than usual. Not like I wanted to open my eyes. From what I could tell, I was not lying down in a warm, comforting room. Meaning Dazai failed to pull off a miracle turn around. And that meant I was in one of Fyodor’s hideouts. But how? I could’ve sworn he reached for me…

“He pulled back in the last moment. I suppose he concluded the value of your life did not outweigh the risk this time,” an oily voice echoed in the damp cold.

A voice that will haunt me for years to come.

“That’s…not true,” my parched throat screamed with each syllable.

It felt like days since I last drank a full glass of water, let alone ate a solid meal. Given the small glass I had before leaving the lab, and what Kunikida told us, it wasn’t that far off. Shame it happened right when I needed all the energy I could muster.

Fyodor’s almost pitying look was blurry, but his tone easily made up for that, “Denying the harsh truth is understandable, but it won’t save you.”

No. But it would keep me alive long enough to be saved. As much as I knew he was lying, his words still stung. Why did Dazai pull away? My memory was foggy. With all the stress in that moment and the sheer mental exhaustion from surviving Icarus, I only recalled the single snapshot of his fingertips just barely lingering apart from mine to the point I felt his warmth and then…nothing. The worst part was: as much as I wanted to believe we bonded in escaping from Icarus, I couldn’t fully deny Fyodor’s words.

As much as I wanted to believe Dazai was fully good, the truth was he was no angelic hero. I of all people knew that all too well.

Dull pain and soreness built up along my arms I soon found bound to the wooden arms of a dusty chair that was far from comfortable even without the binding. “So much for providing a hospitable atmosphere,” I chuckled morosely, mind instantly reverting to defense mechanisms long since imbedded in my subconsciousness.

Or maybe they were from Dazai’s? Now there’s a thought to drive one insane. Probably best not to mull it over too much. I had enough to deal with as it was.

“Well you don’t train a dog by giving them treats right off the bat,” he answered matter-of-factly.

What’s with these people and their dog animosity? Personally I am more of a cat person, but dogs are still freaking cute and completely undeserving of this treatment. I suppose Japanese culture states otherwise, but seriously… Thought Russians held a slightly higher view of the canine species.

“Nor do you go straight to punishment,” I countered dryly, subtly impressed by how my irritation and previous lectures on psychology drowned out the terror for the time being, “If you want to alter a behavior your best option is positive or negative reinforcement.”

“Oh? Skinner, huh?” he said mildly impressed. Shame I couldn’t dwell in the reward of catching him off-guard as his lips twisted into a wry smirk, “Shall we put his findings against Holmes’ ideology?”

For the briefest of moments my mind stopped. I don’t know if there’s an emotion for “…” but that’s what I felt. Holmes? Like Sherlock Holmes? The British sleuth and mastermind? Was he comparing himself to Sherlock? Why? The character was a good person, albeit with a morally grey background. Guess that was a theme in this series, but still. Why-?

Oh. Crap.

Tension built in my muscles and I barely recognized my fingers curling into the wood. Holmes was not just the name of a fictional character, but a real person. Someone who shouldn’t exist here. Or at least I thought. Fyodor referencing B.F. Skinner should’ve thrown those thoughts out the window.

He wasn’t referring to Sherlock Holmes. No. He meant H. H. Holmes. The infamous serial killer from Chicago’s World Fair. The guy who built a castle to lure in poor unfortunate souls. The murderer who tormented his victims mentally, physically, and psychologically…

Someone I did not want to hear uttered from the lips of a man who stood the reflection of Dazai’s darker days.

Fyodor smirked at my recognition and I could do nothing to stop shaking at what awaited. It was honestly no surprise, and yet my blood ran cold.

Torture.

The mere word almost made me puke. Sure, I survived the mental trauma of Icarus, but Fyodor played on an entirely different level. And as much as I wanted to boast I could handle whatever he planned, I knew that those things drastically changed when the pain began. And I couldn’t say for certain he would not pull out all stops to get the information he wanted – intel that would decimate the Agency, Port Mafia, Yokohama…maybe even this entire world.

Information I was now terrified to protect.

Realize this: I’m not Dazai. Even if we shared a mind for a little over a day, I didn’t possess his experience in enduring pain and torture. Heck, I barely knew a handful of methods from museums I toured like 3 years ago. Thus the obscurity pulled me further into the dark fear I knew I had to avoid. Remember, what did he say about situations like this? Never show your true emotions – don’t allow the person to take advantage of your fears and thoughts? Sounds easy enough for a trained torturer.

As for an average, out-of-place girl, you might as well ask me to fly.

I attempted my best façade of control, tears stinging my eyes as I glared in I hope what seemed like defiance at Fyodor. We both knew this broken mask would not last, but I was determined to make it endure as long as possible. Because this no longer concerned just me. It involved the very characters – the very people I came to cherish.

For their sakes, I could endure this hell for at least a little while.

Focusing on the light of their smiles and that sunset, I stared into that chilling lavender gaze threatening to devour me as his lips curled further, apparently amused by my feeble resistance as he pulled out a small yet wholly terrifying knife. He leaned forward, brushing the tip of the blade up my leg until the fabric of my dress bunched at my hip. Its cold touch threatened to make me shiver if not for the rising terror in my throat at how utterly vulnerable I was.

Was this worth it? I’m ashamed the question seeped into every crevice of my mind, and the option of abandoning the others after only just vowing to protect them was very tempting. Can you honestly blame me though? Sure, it makes me a wretched hypocrite, but I never claimed to be a storybook hero or noble person. I am not strong. I am not brave. I am weak and cowardly and scared. Despite everything others may think, I am still only human.

A yell tore from my throat as he abruptly pushed the blade into my leg, pressure giving way to sharp pain that burned all the way up my spine. Already I could feel warm blood drip down and collect beneath my thigh. Had he punctured an artery? As fuzzy as my grasp of anatomy was at the moment, I knew an important blood vessel lay in your thigh region and if cut would grant five minutes tops before you bled out. Seeing as he likely wanted to prolong this, I doubted he severed it, but that did not save me from the burning fire that sent static in my vision.

My hands gripped the armrests, threatening to splinter them as I vainly struggled against the restraints and his form pinning me there. I tried biting down on my lips, but my heavy breathing spoke volumes that Fyodor relished in. My head leaned a little over the back of the chair, eyes scrunched shut. Control the pain. Control the pain. Yeah, far easier said than done, my friend.

Vaguely I felt a small pressure as he pulled the knife out, letting more blood drip down my thigh and spiking the pain to the point I could barely breathe. It was not gone for long as the cool metal pressed against my cheek, smearing blood as he trailed it downwards, breath brushing unwelcomingly close behind, “Resilient. That’s good. You’ll need it if you want to survive in this fallen world.”

“Fallen?” I croaked, prying open an eye to take in his shifting image, “Why? Because of abilities?” His face remained a perfect mask, but a small flare in his dead eyes said I was poking at a dangerous subject. One adrenaline and pain blinded me to as I rasped, “Don’t you think that maybe the problem isn’t abilities, but the users themselves? After all, you can’t blame a knife for killing someone.”

“True,” he agreed after a pause, small twisted grin cutting along his face as he pressed the blade hard enough to prick mine, “So what do you propose to bring this world to salvation?”

How about not flaying me alive for starters? Or being a freaking normal manic torturer and actually asking a question before bringing the pain? Although, I suppose it wasn’t necessary as we both knew what he wanted.

Geez… How to save this world…? A complex question that demanded a complex answer my dizzy mind couldn’t possibly surmise with him slicing me every other second. Sweat stung at the cuts, and my hands faintly ached from gripping the armrests so tightly for so long. How did he expect me to answer when every time I so much as twitched he callously sliced my legs, arms, side? It was maddening, and quickly pushed the bounds of cruelty.

“Well? Does the lovely prophetess have nothing to say?” Fyodor’s voice was level but the sneer beneath it sounded clear. He trailed a hand down my bloodied arm, stopping to rest over mine, rubbing tormenting circles into my skin, “Shall I fetch a sketchbook for you? That was how you communicated most effectively before, right?”

Of course he knew about that. Why wouldn’t he? Still, if he thought I was drawing anything other than a spiteful answer to his questions, he was in for a hell of a wake-up call. Please. How did he even expect me to do so with my hands tied down? Draw with my teeth? Applaud the vote of confidence but not going to be able to draw much other than squiggly lines a two year old could beat.

Something that grew even more distant as he deftly slammed the knife into my other hand – pinning it to the wooden chair. Blinding pain assaulted me, my scream cut short as bile rose in my throat. I barely had enough sense to turn and puke on the floor instead of down my front. Agony flooded every part of me, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop the breathless screams and stinging tears mixing with sweat and blood.

I’d never experienced this level of pain, and something told me it was only going to get worse from here.

Shock coiled around me relentlessly, making breathing near impossible. My throat felt like it was going to implode, and it took everything in my being to remain relatively still. Each twitch seemed to veer the blade deeper into my hand and send more waves of agony and bile through me. In a twisted way, it grounded me – enough to begin weakly gasping and yelling. A late reaction I instantly regretted in the way it widened Fyodor’s cruel leer.

“You are ambidextrous, are you not?” he asked casually. His fingers lightly traced my wrist, coming dangerously close to the knife.

Geez. Can he not? I guess this was torture but even then my stress levels were through the roof and my spine felt seconds away from snapping.

When his thumb breezed over the blade, it felt like getting shot and I gasped, “Stop!”

I half expected him to laugh demeaningly like all super villains. It fit, I mean I’m fairly sure Fyodor was the endgame baddie of the series or very close to it. He certainly held the smarts for it. Not to mention devastating ability no one knew for sure what it was. He pretty much fit the textbook definition.

In spite of that, no laughter came. Instead he suddenly leaned forward until his nose practically brushed mine – knee planting itself between my legs and supporting his weight. My breath froze, heart stopping at our proximity. Every shade of red, violet, and indigo danced in his dead eyes. It was aweing, or terrifying? Couldn’t really tell with how everything hung suspended in midair.

I must’ve started hallucinating as his expression looked like it softened as he murmured, “I am sorry, Violet, but-“ his gaze flicked upwards, “-you and I both know salvation lies in what is ahead.”

What? My heart began regaining its pace. I didn’t like how he looked above my head. Why-?

Without warning, harsh rope wrapped around my neck – quickly constricting and cutting off my airway. Was he trying to strangle me? Was this a noose? Out of instinct I thrashed – action backfiring immediately as it jerked the blade in my hand. Static flooded my vision and my cries turned to haggard chokes. Oxygen trickled to a stop and blackness crept in. My head pounded and my lungs burned – agony building and building until I felt like I’d explode.

Unconsciousness snatched me away from my torment like a loving parent, yet not before I met Fyodor’s wolfish smirk as he towered over me. Tears blurred everything – the pain and fear and agony and desperation spilling over until nothing was left but a heavy abyss.

 

…

 

I woke up with my arms tied back at a painful angle and cheek partially submerged to the point blinking flicked tiny droplets of water into the air. Yeah. If that doesn’t describe one of the worst ways to wake up, I don’t know what does. Guess I should be thankful that I woke up at all.

Then again, maybe staying asleep stood the kinder option.

Confusion clouded my throbbing head. Where was I? What happened? My neck burned. Why? I couldn’t quite remember. Something about Fyodor and my agonized hand and a noose and blackness… Geez. The migraine of the century chose now to torment me; thankfully only briefly as a bolt of lightning traumatized every nerve and muscle in my body.

Have you ever slid down one of those plastic slides on the playground, or rubbed your socks along the carpet? Remember getting that telltale electric build up that raises the hair on your skin and zaps the unfortunate victim of your next touch – or perhaps you? Well, getting shocked via static and a live wire sticking into the puddle you’re practically face down in are two completely different things.

Heavy, hot fire shot up my spine, my muscles contracting and spasming so quickly I couldn’t manage more than a pathetic gasp. It hurt, not like the knife in my hand but terrifyingly so. Probably because unlike the blood and obvious wounds from a blade, electricity seared you from the inside out; only visible signs being a nasty burn that fell painfully short to the damage wrought within.

Panic wrapped like a rope around my neck, making breathing even more difficult than the water haphazardly slipping past my lips.

Coughs tore from my throat. A natural reflex that backfired tremendously. Liquid fire filled my veins, searing my pierced hand and sending hot tears down my cheeks. It hurt so much, more than I could ever imagine. Maybe if I hadn’t puked before I would have now. Instead it was all I could do to weakly turn a little more onto my back, just enough not to squash my damaged hand, and gasp in air unhindered by water.

This sucked. How long was I out? Where was I? In the same room? I didn’t have the energy to examine my surroundings. Heck, it was all I could do to level my breathing a tiny bit.

“Fear is an interesting motivator, don’t you think? It drives men mad, provokes them into unthinkable actions. It is one of the few forces in this world that transforms man into a monster… Rather intriguing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Geez… It is too damn early or late or whatnot for philosophical questions.

Tightening my center, I managed to haul myself up into a sitting position on my knees. My hand ached terribly, to the point I felt close to passing out. Every scrape and bruise pulsed maddeningly, the bolt of electricity not helping whatsoever. Heavy breaths left my lungs and I needed a moment to catch my breath before trailing up blood red boots and white pants to meet those poisonous eyes, keenly aware of the large cable sticking into the puddle just a few inches from where he perched in mocking regality on a weathered chair. What I wouldn’t give to just knock-

Jarring pain shot through my body, muscles contracting and expanding far too swiftly. Electricity crackled loudly, setting the water alight. It surged through me, searing every nerve and blood vessel in my body – burning me from the inside out. It must’ve only lasted a couple of seconds but it felt like eons. By some miracle I managed to avoid falling back down, but I was trembling terribly. If that happened again…

“Now, now… A conversation is hardly entertaining if it is one-sided,” Fyodor chided, toying with a small remote not so secretly connected to the wire beside him. Ass, I glared at him. Must’ve looked pathetic hunched over like that, but didn’t really care in the moment as he continued casually, “You understand Japanese now, right? A useful side-effect of that man’s invention. I really must thank him. After all, it allowed me to finally be able to discuss things with you.”

“Discuss?” my voice came out croaky and hurt with each syllable, “There’s nothing to discuss here. Why- Ngh!”

White fire danced around me once more, a brief tarantella that forced my hands out to brace my fall – or rather would have if not for the rope binding them. I bent over, biting my lip for whatever good it did, somehow managing not to fall completely over. Tears sprung to my eyes, blurring the murky water slowly reddening thanks to my hand and numerous other wounds. Air couldn’t come quick enough, that or scorched lungs really stink at retaining anything but bloody water that spattered against my cheek.

Once more fortune favored me to remain hunched over instead of fully collapsing. Although, under those icy, dead eyes it felt more like a curse as he corrected, “Nothing? My dear, we have everything to discuss.”

Not if you keep electrocuting me.

If he read that in my stance, he made no comment, instead smirking as he shifted coyly and crossed his legs, “What do you think humanity fears the most?”

What was this? Dr. Phil with a helping of shock therapy? What was he trying to get out of all of this? My opinion of fear? Or what I feared the most? Couldn’t he tell from looking at me?

“The unknown,” I grudgingly answered if only to keep him from zapping me.

It wasn’t deep like some of the conversations I stumbled into with my roommates, but held enough truth to answer the question appropriately. Not knowing terrified many, myself included. It took away security and control, something most everyone craved and what torture commonly played off of. Not so sure pointing this out helped my case, but then again this was Fyodor.

Every move either of us made was already meticulously laid out before I could even understand a word he said.

“Interesting,” I didn’t like the glint in his eyes whatsoever as he rested his chin on the heel of his hand, continuing like a wolf staring down its cornered prey, “We agree in that respect. Taking a leap of faith, uttering a new word… The very notion of stepping into the unknown repulses mankind. It is what people fear most, and yet they continue to seek it out, to bask in that pleasure and intoxicating adrenaline of peril to see if they can survive a dance with Death.”

Okay… Should I be glad we agree or not?

“Although…” Crap. Did not like the way this was going, especially as his eyes narrowed menacingly, “I find the fear of pain a much more compelling concept.”

Yep. Definitely don’t like this. Not one bit.

“Pain makes one act rashly – it throws logic to the wind in favor of preservation. It drives people into foolish decisions. And the fear of pain achieves just as, if not more astounding results,” his smirk twisted inhumanely and my heart staggered in its race.

“Dazai-kun possesses a mild degree of algophobia, right?”

His name falling from those lips hit me like a bullet. I think I flinched or something. Couldn’t really tell. After those shocks, a persistent tremor racked my muscles. Hard to tell if I managed to do anything but stare dumbfounded at him.

Dazai… Of course. This wasn’t about me. It never was. It was about what I could tell him – what I knew about Dazai and the others. I was always just a piece in their match – a chess piece for them to manipulate and move around. Something I didn’t totally mind if it was Dazai’s hand. Someone I knew I could trust even as his hesitation hurt.

Someone I would protect no matter what.

“You want me to tell you about Dazai, to give you something to blackmail him and the others with?” It fell more like a statement than question. Not like it mattered, we both knew exactly what I meant. And it did not help the feral snarl that came from my lips, “Like I’d ever sell him or anyone out to you.”

Unsurprisingly that received another bolt of electricity through the water and all of my nerves. It lasted a good amount longer than the others, to the extent I gasped for air that my lungs couldn’t hold onto. Blood dripped down my head, stinging my eyes. Where did it come from? A cut opened by muscle contractions? Either way, by the damp sensation trailing down my arms and legs and sides, it wasn’t the only one.

Sheer spite kept me from collapsing fully (and who said it accomplished nothing?), yet could do little in allowing me to speak between haggard breaths. So much for a discussion. Guess it was going to be one-sided no matter what.

Whatever strength that kept me there faded in seconds, the water splashing against my face – impact cruel on my aching bones. Everything hurt, breathing hurt yet instinct continued to desperately pull air into my lungs. Pain seared everything, his words ringing eerily true as it corroded my thoughts and sensibility. I just wanted the pain to stop, for a moment or second of respite.

One that wouldn’t come as he pressed the button once more. Agony built – each interlude between shocks growing shorter and shorter until all I managed to do was get out a partial gasp before the next began. It was hell. Utterly horrible – much worse than him stabbing my hand. Maybe because it was constant or left me shaking uncontrollably. I don’t know. All I knew was that he was slowly killing me. Or rather shoving me as close as I could get to that edge without falling over.

Not yet. Not until he gained that which he sought. The information I knew. The secrets I hadn’t told anyone. Things he pounced on the moment they became available. Honestly, it was amazing he’d reveal such desire. Thought he’d try to conceal it more. Then again, that didn’t hit me until later.

As of now, it was all I could do to gasp weakly as tears mingled with blood to stain the murky waters a rusty red. My body trembled painfully, each tremor like knives in my bones. It sucked and I couldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried. This went beyond anything I experienced, and I was certain I would never look at electricity the same way again. Not when it led to him stealing another vital thing from me.

Not when it allowed him to take my mobility away.

A maroon boot callously nudged me onto my back, impact small yet as jarring as falling from a third story window would be. A strangled noise left my lips, and I scrunched an eye shut – other refusing to let him out of my sight. Not like it mattered. I could barely make out his form from the blurred darkness eating away at the edges of my vision.

He leaned closer, negating the disorientation and thankfully the possibility of more shocks as his knees sank into the shallow waters. Well, considering he didn’t want the burns that seared my entire body.

Sharp pain shot up my arm as he swiftly cut the rope binding me and grabbed my hand, of course sparing no decency in selecting the one with a knife-sized hole in it. Cruel fate sent static in my vision yet relented in knocking me out as Fyodor tugged me upright, my feet stumbling precariously only to end with me leaning against him for whatever dubious support that was. Think I yelled or something based off the brief burning of my throat. Couldn’t really tell with all the dizziness and pain making a mess of my mind.

His fingers traced feather light touches against my cheek yet it felt like nails I was too jumbled to do much more than weakly bemoan his touch. His chest pressed against my ear – steady heartbeat hardly comforting. I guess it was some mild relief he didn’t get off on this. And yet the lack of feeling wasn’t exactly a good thing either. If anything it made things ten times worse. A torturer with a conscience was one thing.

One without the capability of even a small bit of empathy terrified me.

“Your undying loyalty is admirable, but I wonder… Is it worth the price?” he asked in feigned concern I deigned not to respond past a sidelong glower.

Any reaction he gave was lost on me. Please. Now that he couldn’t zap me I was fine. Although I suppose at this proximity he could do any number of atrocities… Things I was helpless to do anything against.

To my mild surprise, he merely set my hand across my lap, shifting his grip to press against my back and legs; hoisting me up without much effort. The pressure dug into all of the burns and bruises and cuts, tearing a hiss from my lips. Reflexes prompted me to dig my nails into his chest and a small fear of him dropping me froze my thoughts. It was by no means a long fall, but it definitely would hurt like hell.

Thankfully his hold remained firm, a mock play on security as he returned to the chair and sat down with me draped across his lap. Surprised the shabby thing supported our weight. Then again Fyodor was a bit thin and with that throwing up and not eating anything in a hot minute I probably didn’t fare much better.

“You know so little about them. Well, I suppose you know more than the average stranger,” something warm and sticky smeared across my cheek, stinging it ferociously. What the heck? I hissed, trying and failing to squirm away as he held firm, “Then again, people are rarely who they make themselves out to be. This country has an idiom regarding that, does it not? If I recall, it mentions the three faces one possesses: one that they show the world, another for family and friends, and a final true face… I wonder, what are their true colors? More importantly, are they worth protecting?”

From you? Yes. Why is that even a question? And why-? Ow! More sticky stuff smeared across my shoulder, digging into deeper cuts crassly. What is he doing? Treating my wounds? Gee, thanks. How kind of him.

“It…doesn’t matter,” I croaked, each breath pressing knives in my lungs, “Whoever they were…in the past…they are not those people now. Even then, I won’t turn my back on them. It’s kind of what it means…to be a part of something. Although I guess you wouldn’t know anything about loyalty and companionship…would you?”

Dang. Surprised all that came out. Blame pain and bone-deep exhaustion – something his poking and prodding at did not help at all.

Fyodor huffed, barbed words barely bothering him as he spoke calmly, “You think so? There are advantages to walking independently. Nevertheless, there is value in fidelity. Alas, it turns rancid when committed to the wrong person.”

“And you think the Agency is not the right one to trust – that Dazai is undeserving of loyalty? Please. Like you’re in any position to talk.”

“Perhaps, but they are hardly what anyone would call saints. You are aware of that, right? The amount of blood pooling around them despite how they proclaim to be a vanguard for good?”

He meant their crimes – Dazai’s quickly coming to the forefront but sadly not alone in the Agency. Fukuzawa, as I recall, was an assassin, while that hallucination Kunikida saw during Q’s assault hardly pointed to anything good. Not to mention Ranpo’s willingness to commit crime to protect the Agency later on and Atsushi’s rampage as the tiger. And then there was Yosano – the apparent “Angel of Death” or whatever those hunting dogs called her… Wait. Angel? Was that what triggered her back then?

Biting pain burned my hand as Fyodor callously pulled me from my thoughts, rubbing that ointment into the very hand he stabbed. How ironic and completely unnecessary. I mean, yeah, I don’t want it to get infected but would rather get treatment from someone who wasn’t just going to reopen all these wounds later.

“Regardless of what they did in the past, they’re eons better than you are now,” I at last hissed, tugging on his grip vainly.

“Oh?” he raised a brow, attention still pinned on applying the medicine, “Are you suggesting that not all crimes are the same? That there are varying shades of black?”

Sure. Whatever you want to conclude if it means ending this quicker. With each passing moment his hands trailed further across my body and sent my stress levels skyrocketing.

“Do you believe that the sin committed for the sake of another is less damning than one borne of pure selfishness? Or perhaps the crime of a vigilante is nobler than that of a petty thief? It is quite the romantic way of thinking. However, in the end, sin is sin. No matter the intention, all crime begets punishment. They are inseparable – two sides of the same coin.”

“Two parts of a singular process,” I grimaced as he began poking at the nasty gash in my side – frayed edges of my dress sticking to the wound and pulling painfully with each motion, “Makes sense to think of it like that. Still, if you really believe that, then you’re more of a hypocrite than I thought – claiming to be some god despite committing the very crimes you condemn others for.”

I felt him tense beneath me. Crap. Well, it was going to return eventually. No use delaying the inevitable… Still, I scrunched my eyes, ready for his retaliation only for a faint rumbling to dance along my side. Wait… Was that?

Hesitantly, as if any movement would shatter the illusion, I glanced up to find him chuckling lightly. What? Why was he…?

“You hold a good point. However, let me ask you this: Are the sins of man the same as those of god?”

What? “What are you…? Sin? God? Those are-”

“Opposites? Not at all my dear,” he smiled down at me, “After all, did God not send the flood – killing countless in order to make way for a new, better world? Did He not send the plagues upon Egypt, the walls of Jericho crashing down, the destruction of Sodom?”

Well, I mean yeah, but-

“Allow me to rephrase that: the intentions of a sinner do not change the fact that they committed a crime. Be that as it may, the sins of God differ in that they are painted a pure white – they are the necessary sacrifices for a new, better world.”

Necessary sacrifices? Did he truly believe that? If so, then I think I just understood Fyodor a lot more than before. Under that theory, his actions made sense. They were still paradoxical as all hell, but there was some solid reasoning (or delusion) behind everything. A sort of “the end justifies the means” way of thinking.

He really thought that he was doing the work of God; that his killings were for a greater good. It was terrifying and enlightening at the same time. Although, wasn’t this supposed to be the other way around? Was he not supposed to learn about me or what I knew? Was this some sort of tactic to get me to lower my guard like some twist on quid pro quo?

Ugh. You know what? No. I really don’t want to think about that and the horrid connotations of those words. Especially still draped across Fyodor’s lap.

Even more when I felt the telltale prick of a needle resting against my neck.

I stiffened, noting the syringe in his hand poised to inject a clear serum that spelt nothing good. Indeed, my voice wavered as I at last responded, “Consider for a second that I actually believe you; how do you know those ‘sacrifices’ are even worth the venture? That you’re not just shooting yourself in the foot?”

His smile sent chills down my spine, and coupled with the needle did little to reassure even as his tone was soft, almost mocking in its sympathy, “Do you believe in the virtue of your way?”

Uhh… Yes? Did I really need to respond?

Thankfully my expression spoke for me as he simpered lightly, “Faith, even misguided, is a powerful thing. It propels one to depths beyond the capabilities of the normal, everyday man, and grants the strength needed to make those sacrifices.”

“So that begs the question…” he trailed off maliciously, “How much are you willing to sacrifice for them before you see the truth?”

Any response cut short as he at last pushed the syringe in my neck, injecting thick poison into my veins. It hurt, but the pain was buried under a rising panic in my bones as his hand slid down my side, stopping at my waist in horrifying suggestion. One that only boosted the terror of his question as the world tunneled.

I guess we were both going to find out just how far this charade would last before crumbling apart.

Notes:

Diving into dark waters here. Hope you all can bear with it for a bit, but will likely add some extras to get some breathers in between these chapters just to make them bearable.

Or, if you're enjoying it some songs to get the general mood of this arc - of which Red's Of Beauty and Rage album and Sam Tinnesz's Heart of the Darkness fit pretty well with this arc and the interactions between Violet and Fyo, and some of Dazai's views on things (also somethings I listened to while writing a few chapters for this arc).

 

@seneca: Oh yeah, this arc is far from pretty and probably the darkest one in the work. Haha, aww well I hope its been a fun ride so far; again, it is diving into dark territory now but will get back up in lighthearted territory eventually.
As for Dazai's POV of the incident, well, he has his reasons which will be discussed in the upcoming chapters. Concerning his darker side, as I've noticed with his manga and anime confrontations with Fyo, it tends to come out and I don't see any reason why it wouldn't in this case.
Haha, when first planning this I thought about it too but the fact that Fyo would pounce as soon as the opportunity presented itself was too good to pass up (not to mention how he'd play on the fact that she's exhausted from the incident with Icarus).

@lipstickgremlin: Oh? That's quite the theory, and definitely up his alley. Only question is: how did he impersonate Dazai so well? It's one thing to dress up like someone, but they were in pretty close quarters. Oooh, Crime and Punishment makes me so giddy to talk about (and my theory on it is very similar to what Violet thinks in the next chapter), especially after the most recent chapter that killed my soul and gave off a seriously not-good vibe when considering a certain European's potential involvement in things (not to mention her ability's name is eerily coming true and I fear for Fyo). But I digress.
Yes! Nikolai honestly was a cheap twist at first as I didn't know how Fyo would escape with Violet without his ability. But yes, his appearance was a nice twist and tease for future events.
Aww thank you for your lovely comments that make me happy ♥

@ilover: Well, I suppose from this chapter he is well aware of that but does not really mind. Not to mention if he does get what he wants, Dazai will have a lot more to worry about than avenging Violet. Haha both of you make me happy - thinking Fyo kissed her. He does show some signs of interest in this chapter. But I wonder if any of those indications are true or if they are simply lies? And true, true, but as I mentioned to lipstickgremlin, the question remains: How did he manage to fool Violet who very much knows what he looks like? Just some food for thought.

See you all later~

Chapter 53: Watch Your Back

Summary:

Blind devotion's not enough, can't go on with our eyes shut.

Notes:

Warnings: mentions of torture

Time is relative. A famous quote from Einstein. Or, that was the theory. Apparently the guy had a nasty rumor pertaining to stealing others’ ideas and selling them as his own. Either way, whoever said it first had a valid point.

Time was relative, but it was nice to hold a sense of it. Helps keep a semblance of sanity. Guess that’s why torture attempts to distort that sense – dragging minutes out to days and compressing weeks into seconds. Then again, it was a passing thought as a persistent pain clouded everything.

After injecting me with poison that lit my blood on fire for the better part of what felt like eternity, Fyodor’s lectures seemed to get more and more random. Obviously he was getting something from them in the way I answered or breathed or whatnot, but the variety of topics ranging from religious ideals to morality to even opinions on what could be considered beautiful was a bit odd. I mean, in hindsight they all sort of connected, but in the moment it was all I could do to think straight as my body was subjected to more cuts, searing water and rude ice baths, burns, and the ever present poison among the list of torture methods he was crossing off his list.

Suppose that made my responses more genuine, but then again they were far from what I expected – barely a hint of him asking about the others apart from constantly questioning why I was on their side.

He was wearing me down, that much was clear. Only question was: would I hold on in time for the others to find me? It was a question that constantly nagged my mind. And ever so slowly I began losing that faith; in its place the rancid doubts Fyodor so expertly sowed into his victims’ minds. That was probably one of the worst parts about all of this.

While I knew he was lying and trying to get me to give in, my strength was running out and desperation made that rotten seed a tempting sight if only to lessen the pain.

At least it seemed enough time had passed that Fyodor needed a solid break – leaving me some time to recover. Or, well, as much as one could standing just far enough from the wall that they couldn’t lean on it with their hands bound above their head. It was exhausting and freaking horrible to the point I could cry if I had any tears left.

I was just so, so tired, and I wanted this to end already. Only sucky bit was that meant telling Fyodor what he wanted to know. And I couldn’t bring myself to do it. But the thought of prolonging this torture even a few more minutes…

It sucked, especially as not even the brief moments of unconsciousness provided a bit of relief – tainted with nightmares of the Agency being hunted, the truth of Yosano’s title, and the stakes rising ever higher with Ango showing up alongside the guy who almost beat Ranpo.

These visions had absolutely no sense of timing whatsoever – appearing at the worst moment. Couldn’t they wait til after Fyodor was finished to pop up? Although I suppose there was a small silver lining in that I couldn’t draw them with my hands bound. How unfortunate for him, huh? Wonder what he’d think if he knew? Probably nothing good.

A soft clicking noise sounded in the silence, signaling the end of this brief respite. Great. I got maybe two actual seconds of sleep. More than the last time. Talk about sad baby steps. Ahhh… I shifted on my feet if only to alleviate my numb arms. Not like he didn’t know I was awake….

Steps fell near silently on the dirty, bloodstained ground. Odd. Was he purposely being quite? Trying to sneak up on me? Please. No need to waste the effort. Even if he did somehow surprise me I held zero energy to give any kind of satisfying reaction.

Or so I thought until a voice that made my heart skip a beat sounded, “Violet-chan…”

It couldn’t be…! I stiffened, tears spilling from my eyes as they opened wide to see a sight that nearly accomplished what Fyodor sought this entire time.

“Dazai…!” I gasped.

My God. It was him. He found me. He made it. This nightmare was finally going to end. Or so I thought. This was Fyodor’s hideout. Sneaking in alone was one thing, but could he manage to get us both out? Not to doubt his skills or anything, but this was Fyodor we were dealing with. Besides…

I don’t think I could take seeing him pulled away from me for a second time.

“Dazai…! Dazai…!”

Even then, I couldn’t keep the tears in as I spoke his name over and over – sound of it wonderful even as it abused my dry throat. Relief was so tempting in that moment but I couldn’t accept it. Not now. Not yet when things were still so uncertain.

“Sshhh,” he hushed me, finally closing the distance and reaching up to pick the lock of my shackles.

My heart pounded so loudly, waiting for Fyodor or one of his goons to show up. This was risky beyond belief. Where were the others? Don’t tell me… Did he actually come alone?

“Dazai…” I grimaced, forcing out the words even as they killed me to say them, “You-You shouldn’t be here…! What if-?”

“Hush,” he intervened and not a second later the metal cutting into my wrists disappeared and I fell into his arms that steadied me, “Don’t worry. We will get out of here, I promise.”

I pushed against him, mere action of supporting my body weight making my arms tremble. The throbbing grew worse, and whatever breaths I managed to take felt like breathing in water. By some miracle I found enough energy to rasp out.

“Idiot… You…shouldn’t be here! Fyodor…Fyodor will be back any minute now!”

“Then we best be leaving,” he gave an unperturbed smile. The sheer bravado in this guy. Almost wish I had it but then again that would probably just kill me. Guess it makes sense in a roundabout way.

Grabbing my wrist, he tugged me up and slunk out of the room. Worn halls covered in signs of disrepair and decay passed us by – the few rooms other than the one I was in either pitch black or concealed behind rusted doors. It gave off a similar vibe to Icarus’, or I guess Yokoyama’s lab. Was it near there? Likely not. Can’t see Fyodor hiding out only a few feet away from where we were.

Although, that type of stunt seemed to suit him at the same time.

Ragged breaths scratched my throat as I stumbled after Dazai. He wasn’t by any means going fast, but to my aching, battered legs it felt like we were sprinting. Any second now my knees would buckle. My lungs burned. It was all very embarrassing really. I mean, I was an athlete. Even after coming to this world I did my fair share of walking and some brief strenuous exercise. All in all, enough that I shouldn’t be struggling this bad.

Then again, I did just endure however many days, weeks, or hours of torture. Suppose that’d take it out of anyone.

At any rate, escaping was quickly turning into a new kind of torture on my aching muscles and bones. Yet before I could tell Dazai to slow down, he abruptly stopped so that I lightly collided with his back.  In a swift motion, he tugged us into one of the open doors and crouched down.

Oh God… My heart picked up pace. Was it Fyodor? Or one of the members of his group? Did they realize their uninvited guest? Or that I was missing? Crap. Crap! I knew this was a bad idea. Now not only would the torture increase since I hardly believed Fyodor would find this amusing, but Dazai would be involved as well. It was horrible. The worst possible scenario. Getting hurt myself was one thing, but watching him hurt Dazai was-

“Violet-chan…”

A cool touch pressed against my cheek, calloused thumb brushing away the beginnings of tears in my eye. It was surprising and oddly soothing as I blinked up to meet Dazai’s small, sympathetic smile as he murmured, “It’s okay. This is just a small setback – an opportunity for you to catch your breath. We will be alright, okay?”

Geez… I inhaled deeply and nodded as he leaned back, letting me wipe away the rest of the tears, “Ye-Yeah… I’m sorry. I think all of this has just gotten to me more than I realized.”

“Don’t be, anyone who experienced what you did would feel the same way,” he spoke calmly, and yet when I glanced over his eyes bore flares of deeper red.

Was he…angry? No. The mere presence of such a strong emotion in his gaze meant it was more than that. He was livid, yet somehow managed to keep a lid on it – concealing his emotions in a way I could only dream of replicating. But why? Could it be…? No. That’s impossible, and yet…

“Violet-chan.”

My heart skipped a beat, butterflies filling my stomach as I flinched; looking up at him and feeling my cheeks begin to burn as I stammered, “W-What?”

Crap. Did he see? Did he know what I was thinking?

A small smirk lit his expression, reverting back to calming familiarity yet doing no favors to my cheeks. Yeah. He totally saw. But was that so bad? No. Yeah, that can’t be good. I mean, did he even really feel that way? Did I want him to? Would it be okay?

How much of the story would really be impacted if we did?

Gently, like handling a precious antique, he took my unstabbed hand in his. My heart skipped a beat. Was he about to-?

“How much did you tell him?”

Huh? I blinked. Tell him? Fyodor? Right. That makes sense. We’re still in the hideout and very real danger. Get your head out of the clouds. Still… How much did I tell him? Did he really think I caved? Not that it was out of the blue (heck, it was a miracle I didn’t, but then again our talks didn’t really delve into those topics), but a little, I don’t know, demeaning? Thought he’d trust me a bit more.

“N-Nothing. At least nothing explicitly,” I stammered, shifting uneasily as my eyes darted to where a shadow skirted past the doorway, “Is now really the time for thi-?”

“Violet-chan, I need to know what you said. Whatever information Dostoevsky gained will undoubtedly give him a leg up. In order to stand a chance, you must tell me everything,” he interrupted, completely unperturbed by the fact that we were speaking in hushed voices very much in the hideout.

It took me a bit aback, especially as notes of I’m-not-playing-around filled his tone. Spurred flashbacks of his Mafia self. All in all, not very welcoming with my nerves already well cooked from Fyodor’s antics. What was with him?

“I’m trying to tell you, I didn’t say anything. I mean, maybe he got something in the way I said certain things or twitched or breathed, but I hardly think they gave away any secrets involving the Agency or really anyone but myself,” I frowned, trying to keep the frustration at a minimum. Kinda hard given the general lack of sleep and persistent ache.

His eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, “Alright. I believe you.”

Whew. Thank goodness. Now we could focus on getting the hell out of-

“But that information – the things he sought – is still imperative. Whatever it is, whatever you think he was trying to get you to say, I need you to tell me now. Everything.”

What? I gawked at him. Sure, on the one hand his question meant that when he and Odasaku ran through my memories he didn’t get a sneak peek at future events, but on the other hand… No. No! This was insane! Why was he even asking me this now? Inside Fyodor freaking Dostoevsky’s hideout? What if the room was bugged? Hell, what if we got caught because he couldn’t wait for things to play out and wanted spoilers?

“N-No!” I had to physically struggle not to scream at him and keep my voice a hushed hiss.

He frowned, looking ready to argue – the exact thing we did not need right now. What the heck was happening? I mean, I get it. Being ahead of Fyodor in any way is a great thing. Fantastic. But seriously, timing man. Besides, was what I had to say really that important? Most of it involved him – stuff he already knew. Did he think Fyodor was after something else? But the only teases at anything aside from those random conversations were shot at Dazai. It didn’t make sense and my nerves were about to burst.

At his continued irritated silence, I hissed just as irately, “Dazai, there really is nothing to say – not now at least. Seriously, can we just-?”

“Not even about Dostoevsky himself?”

Geez. He really is stubborn like a mule – one with atrocious timing.

Deciding to humor him in hopes he’d snap out of this obsession for a second and continue this escape, I whispered harshly, “You probably know more about him than I do.”

“Perhaps, but a second opinion never hurts.”

Unless it gets us caught. I bit my tongue to keep the words from spilling out, instead taking a deep breath before conceding, “Fine. Fyodor is a Russian ability user who leads the Rats in the House of the Dead and is also a part of another organization called the Decay of Angels.”

His eyes widened a fraction of an inch and surprisingly I was too fed up and stressed out by the very real possibility of being found to react as I continued rather sourly, “His ability is called Crime and Punishment, but aside from that, I know what pretty much everyone else does: nothing. I mean, he can kill with a simple touch but that’s almost useless in defining it since that can be said about pretty much any ability.”

Dazai remained silent, pinning me with that unnerving gaze for a few moments that drove me further into insanity before asking, “Do you have any theories of what it could be?”

Yeah, but you’re better off asking him himself when he catches us. Ugh!

“Not really,” the retort fell from my lips, and I had to breathe to relax a little to continue, “I mean, I think it may have to do with the mind or brain or thoughts and the like. There was something that I read that said something along the lines of ‘All crime begins with thought’ so it’d fit, but there’s really nothing to back that up.”

Except for the fact that I read it from Crime and Punishment back in my world. Something he, for better or worse, did not see and thankfully did not probe any further as I finished tersely, “Now, can we please get going before we’re both caught?”

He paused before exhaling and giving a small, slightly apologetic smile, “Yeah. I’m sorry, Violet-chan. But rest assured knowing that, no matter what, your secrets are safe with me, and you can trust me. After all, we shared a mind right?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, kind of over this conversation ten minutes ago but managed a weak smile back, “And for the record, yours are safe as well. Just next time, let’s not chat in the middle of an enemy’s hideout, alright?”

He blinked before chuckling, “Alright.”

Geez. My heart fluttered at the sound. The sheer rollercoaster of emotions he put me on was something else but all in all exhilarating. Yeah, I’m hopeless at this point. But still… I gazed at his Cheshire grin. He was one of a kind.

Hopefully that’d be enough as he cast a brief glance up and down the hall before grabbing my hand once more and slinking out.  

Notes:

Bet you didn't expect this huh? Well, to be fair, I didn't either but I had some extra time and thought why not power through another chapter?

As for Violet's whim-theory, it actually correlates fairly well with the one I hold of Crime and Punishment. I don't think it is purely 'kill with a touch' but something along the lines of Fyo holding some influence on the victim's thoughts (maybe to the extent where he can tell the brain to implode since the two deaths he caused with his ability caused blood to come from the face rather than any other part of the body). Also, it would tie into how he still influences Nathaniel (I'm putting my money on he is Fyo's outside contact). But all this is just speculation.

 

@seneca: Yes, it certainly is not good news for Violet. As for his methods, they are quite paradoxical - harming her in one minute, then patching her up in the next. Very disorienting, but I suppose that is one purpose of torture. Haha the philosphy talks honestly came out of the blue. Just assumed since Real Fyodor was quite accustomed to religion, Bungou Fyo would be as well. Not to mention they tie into one of his main goals as it pertains to Violet.
Well, it will take a long time but Violet does recover as much as one can in these situations. Lol yes, it is quite a long road from here and the emotional rollercaoster is a fun ride. As for a happy ending... Well, we will just have to wait and see about that c;

@lipstickgremlin: Aww, that makes me so happy considering I do the same for all the fics I obsess over. And yes, I tried reading up on torture methods and brainstorming ways I would be uncomfortable around someone and it all kinda came together in this chapter and the ones to come. Aww, thank you! Fyo is so hard for me to write but I love him so much!
Oooh, I have so many theories for Agatha - most of which not exactly good for ADA. But her ability name is quickly becoming very ominous as 2 out of the 5 angels are now or extremely hinted at being dead, and part of me is screaming at Fyo to run and fearing whatever may happen to him will get Dazai caught up in it as well (my Fyozai urges are twitching at the thought of both dying together). Alas, I guess we will just have to wait and see what happens.
Haha yes, well it seems to be taken quite well with others, including my roommates who are screaming at me for raising their hopes that the two actually kissed. And I can see that. Fyo has a good amount of experience in impersonating others.

@ilover: Haha, well she hasn't been explicitly mentioned in the manga since a little before the Guild's arc, but now that I think about it, it is interesting that we all just assume Agatha is affiliated with Fyo (I say this since Fitz and Fyo interact like they never were in cahoots or at least not willingly). She could very well be something like Ango and the Special Ability Department, but once again I guess we will have to wait for that revelation if it comes.
Haha another good theory, makes me think of Fyo as some ventriloquist.

Thank you all for the lovely words, see you next time ♥

Chapter 54: Gravity Lies

Summary:

The villain plays the victim so well.

Cool night air felt like silk against my skin and icy fire to my throat – both soothing and tormenting as we ran through the forest surrounding Fyodor’s hideout: a barely noticeable entrance into the tunnels below carved out of a small hill’s face. Tunnels. That entire time we were underground. Fits the general theme of him and his group, but also eerie in the fact that they were so similar to Icarus’ lab.

Could we really be so close to that location? But if that’s true, then why did it take Dazai and the others two entire days to find? Surely they would have scoured the proximity first. Then again, it was insanely reckless of Fyodor to hide so close. Was that the point? Or was it merely a coincidence the locations bore similarities?

Still, two days. It was astounding. I somehow survived Fyodor for that long, and yet beneath the ground, in that horrid room, it felt eons longer. All the more reason to put as much distance between us as possible.

If only my battered legs could make it that far as, in a cruel twist of fate, my foot caught on a root. The expected jerk sent jolts of pain shooting up my leg and spine – dislodging Dazai’s grip and sending me to the ground. The impact, while in honesty not all that terrible, felt like a sledge hammer to the numerous scars and bruises and burns littering my body. Indeed, black splotches dangerously formed in my vision and my head spun.

No. Focus. Don’t pass out. Stay awake. Stay awake. If you faint now, then you’ll slow Dazai down and then…then…!

Breathing felt laborious, like each breath was taking in not enough oxygen. Everything hurt and I couldn’t stop shaking. A panic attack. I was having a panic attack. Now of all times. At least my rancid luck was still intact.

Breathe. Just breathe. Don’t think about it. Don’t worry. We’re going to get out. We’re going to make it. Dazai’s still here. He said we’d make it… And yet, why did I doubt him? Why was I so terrified that we were going to get caught – that this escape was going far too well?

My chest hurt, feeling like it was going to implode at any moment. It was agonizing, and I think brought tears to my eyes. Kinda hard to tell when it feels like everything around you is falling apart.

A cool touch cradled my cheek, blurred colors clearing to show Dazai kneeling in front of me. His gaze was soft, sympathetic and emitting a calm I envied greatly. How could he be so calm? Experience in fleeing dangerous organizations? Who’d have guessed it’d come in handy later on? Geez…

“Violet-chan,” his voice echoed in my ears, everything pulsing as I struggled to draw in enough air. His touch against my cheek was nice, but it was a fleeting relief to the ever growing panic and pounding in my chest and lungs.

Something he picked up on easily as he gently took my hand and pressed it against his chest, instructing while leaning so our foreheads touched, “Breathe with me.”

Smart… I closed my eyes, focusing on his steady heartbeat and the way his chest moved against my palm. It took a minute, but I managed to match his rhythm and finally subdue the fear and ache. Only downside was I felt ten times more exhausted than before – and that was saying something given I hadn’t slept more than a couple of minutes in two atrocious days in hell.

Or so I thought until realizing my forehead was still pressing against Dazai’s, his hand nestled along my cheek at the perfect angle that if either of us were to shift a little, then our lips would-

Fire seared my cheeks and my heart staggered in the steady tempo I fought to achieve. He was close. So close. How’d I not notice before? Was the panic attack really that bad? But now that it’s over, shouldn’t he have pulled back? But then why was his grip on my hand so firm? Why did it feel like he was slowly inching forward? What was that flash of emotion in his eyes? It couldn’t be… Was he going to-?

Before the thought could finish and the distance between us close, my hands shot up to his shoulders and shoved him back. Geez. My face burned and I couldn’t even look at him. What was this? Why was he trying to kiss me? Did we not just go over timing? What was he thinking? Was it even a spur of the moment thing? Was I really upset about the possibility he wanted to?

No! I banished the thoughts, instead speaking to the best of my ability, “W-We should keep going.”

Silence followed briefly until broken by the sound of Dazai rising to his feet, his hand coming into my line of sight and prompting me to finally meet those carnelian eyes as he agreed, “You’re right. Let’s go. We’re not far now.”

Not far? I frowned, taking his hand and letting him pull me along once again – this time taking special heed of any roots or rocks or twig that could prompt a repeat of this. Once is more than enough, thank you. And hopefully all it would take. I mean, he had to be referring to a getaway car right? That’s why he went alone into the hideout – so that Atsushi or Kunikida or whoever could wait for him at this point. It made sense. I could only pray they brought Yosano along and that whatever treatment she had in mind would be quick and efficient and not totally horrendous.

At least when she patched me up I didn’t have to worry about those wounds being torn open minutes later.

We continued into the darkness, this time before my lungs could burn unbearably a dark shape took form among the trees. Was that a cabin? Out here? Guess it holds some privacy perk, but all my mind could think about was horror movies. How ironic that this literally was a cabin in the woods. Still, where there’s a structure there’s a road – and roads meant vehicles that could take us far away from here.

Or that was the idea as we rounded the cabin only to find the dirt road leading up to it vacant and bearing signs of overgrowth. What? Were we early or something? Where were Kunikida and the others? Why-?

“Come on Violet-chan, this way.”

I blinked, turning to find Dazai had somehow gotten all the way to the entrance of the place and now held the door open for me. What? How? Did he just pick the lock?

“What?”

He simpered lightly, holding a hand out, “Don’t worry. The residents won’t be here until next spring. In the meantime, I’m sure they won’t mind us bunking down for the night.”

For the night?

Before I could ask, he added, “Come, Violet-chan. Best we speak about things inside.”

True, but if he thinks this is saving him from a barrage of questions then he’s got another thing coming.

Pushing aside the common decency and social etiquette that frowns upon breaking and entering into another’s vacation cabin, I crossed the threshold into the dimly lit room. It was rather nice – not over the top yet well-furnished with beige furniture and blue accents scattered about. They even had a loft peering above the kitchen that looked refurbished as its equipment stood out among the other pieces. All in all, a very nice place. Too bad an investigation of the lights showed they were smart enough to save on their electric bill while they weren’t there.

The door closed, a quick glance showing Dazai locking it for whatever good that did before turning, taking off his shoes (which I hastily mimicked) and walking past me into the kitchen – unabashedly beginning to scour the cabinets. Geez. Did he have no shame?

“Dazai, what are you-? Stop,” I scolded, going up to him to stop his invasiveness despite how it really wasn’t smoothing over the fact that we broke in.

He glanced down at me as if I suggested the sky was orange, “Why? The owners surely won’t notice a cup of tea or some missing canned food.”

“Yeah, cause I highly doubt they keep inventory of their stuff. That’s not the point!” I hissed, trying and failing to snatch the cans from his hands and only winding up pressed against him.

All too quickly my cheeks burned and I jumped away from his wry grin. So much for holding the higher ground. Geez…

“W-Whatever… Do what you want, I don’t care,” I huffed at his chuckle, turning and finding a spot on the couch.

Ahhh… To just sit down and relax… Who’d have thought such a thing could be so nice and so easily taken for granted. You can count on one less person doing that. Sure, the pressure on my battered legs and sore back was not exactly soothing, but being able to finally rest a little was nice. My exhausted body definitely appreciated it.

Wish it could last as Dazai returned with a can of tuna that could only be spicy by the red hue of the liquid it was soaking in. He handed it to me with a small smile, going back to the kitchen briefly to retrieve two cups of steaming tea. Steaming?

“What? How did you..?”

“Battery operated kettle. It would seem that the owners were prepared to live off the grid if need be,” he explained easily, taking a sip and sighing contentedly.

“Nice. Guess we’ll have to leave them a thank you note for the tea,” I smiled, breathing in the wonderful jasmine scent before setting it aside to attempt to pick up a slice of tuna with the chopsticks he brought.

Keyword: attempt. Apparently it’s not all that easy with a hole in your more dominant hand. My grip stumbled, never quite managing to pick up the sliver and lift it high enough to reach. Damn. So much for being completely okay…

Before I could give into the rising frustration, a hand slipped over mine, gently guiding the chopsticks out of my grip to, in turn, use them to pick up the piece I’d been going at for the past couple minutes. It rose to my lips, and blinked up to find Dazai with a small, sympathetic smile.

“Here,” he offered, pushing the piece into my slightly ajar mouth. It was only when the spices sizzled on my tongue that I realized how intimate this was – that he was pretty much feeding me.

Understandably my cheeks burned, something I hoped he’d blame on the spiciness as I did my best to speak levelly, “S-So… What’s the plan here? Where are Kunikida and Atsushi and the others?”

“Back at the Agency,” he responded, picking up another piece and holding it out for me to take before I could speak. Geez, I swallowed before taking the piece in my mouth, earning a pleased smile from him as he furthered, “They don’t know I slipped away to find you.”

“Whaf?!” I gasped, or rather attempted to with a mouthful of fish. Nearly choked but somehow managed to chew and swallow before continuing, “What do you mean? Did you seriously come alone?”

“It was the best option. I couldn’t waste any time gathering everyone with you in danger,” he defended, taking a piece and this time thankfully eating it himself.

He chewed slowly, and I found myself watching his jaw move and the way his throat shifted when he swallowed. A shiver traced up my spine and my cheeks heated up when it hit me how weird it was that I found myself staring at him. Or, rather, how embarrassing. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice as his eyes opened to meet mine once more.

“You had been with Dostoevsky for two full days. The amount of damage he could inflict in that time… Well, I suppose you would know,” he murmured, gaze traveling over the multitude of wounds left behind.

His attention quickly reminded me of how battered my dress was, and I grabbed the blanket, feigning being cold so I could cover the tears while replying, “Yeah…”

Silence dragged on between us, and I let the soothing warmth of the cup I retrieved ease my nerves. I didn’t quite feel the effects of surviving torture under Fyodor’s hands, but I wouldn’t be surprised if sleep didn’t come easily for the next few days. Heck, I was already paranoid to the point of glancing out the window every other minute. Ideally that would fade in time. As of now, it was nice to simply sit with Dazai.

If only the feeling could last as he spoke up tentatively, “Violet-chan, I know you were reluctant to speak before – and not just because we were in the middle of Dostoevsky’s hideout.”

Yes. Where’re you going with this Dazai?

He took a breath, gaze hardening in determination, “How much do you know?”

Geez, you’re really not pulling any punches huh? Well, this was a long overdue discussion. One I still held many reservations for, for good reason.

A sigh left my lips. This wasn’t going to be pretty…

“Long story short: enough,” I admitted.

“And Dostoevsky?”

Seriously? I bristled a little. Did he really have such little faith in me?

“I told you before, I didn’t give him anything. And if you’re referring to information about him, I already told you the gist of it earlier.”

Dazai looked ready to argue, but graciously relented with a heavy breath, “Yes. You did, didn’t you?”

What’s with him? Is this what I had to look forward to? I thought these talks would include ominous looks and the chance of torture, not a heavy helping of doubt. It was infuriating if not painful. Did everything up until this point mean so little to him?

“And me?”

I blinked, not expecting that. What should I even say? A part of me wanted to explain everything and yet that nagging instinct from the start to keep this wayward story in line remained. Indeed, it proved sufficient even after this less than pleasant encounter with Fyodor.

As much as I wanted to confess everything to him, it felt…wrong to do so. Especially now since we weren’t all that far from Fyodor’s hideout.

In the end I exhaled deeply before replying, “Enough.” His frown of disapproval prompted me to add, “Please, Dazai, understand that I’m not doing this to harm you. More like if you knew then things could be a lot worse.”

He was quiet for a few seconds and I briefly feared an argument until he sighed, “Sometimes not knowing is better than knowing, huh?”

Whew… “Yeah,” I agreed softly, relief washing over me. Who’d have thought it’d be this easy?

“Besides, it won’t matter for much longer.”

Huh? I blinked.

“I’ll contact the Agency in the morning. From there we will mount an assault on Dostoevsky’s hideout and take him out before he can do any more damage.”

What? Reflexively I tensed. Odd considering the guy literally put me through hell the past couple of days. But still, storming Fyodor’s base now was definitely not part of cannon. And the ripples of doing so terrified me. I mean, everyone barely made it through Cannibalism. Who’s to say the cost for this wouldn’t be worse?

“Are you concerned for him?”

“Huh?” I flinched, meeting Dazai’s lopsided smile – his red eyes gleaming in a dangerous emotion that sent shivers down my spine as I stammered, “N-No! It’s just… I-I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, are we even prepared for that kind of attack?”

“We could be better prepared, but an opportunity like this won’t come around again,” he rebutted, grinning darkly before I could object, “That is, unless there is another opportunity we have been unaware of as of yet.”

This ass. I glared at him, feeling myself begin to shake from the anger. He was trying to get me to tell him about what awaited! And right after I told him it was better to wait! Of all the nerve… Why? Was he even listening to me?

Worst of all, could I afford to trust him after this blatant display of mafia interrogation tactics?

“I guess we will just have to wait and find out,” I responded tersely, holding his gaze. It made me feel small, like I was in the palm of his hand. Sure, I mentioned earlier I wouldn’t mind being his chess piece, but not like this.

Seriously, what was with him? The Dazai I knew wouldn’t act like this, right? Especially not so close to Fyodor’s hideout and after I freaking got tortured for the very same information he was trying to pry out. Nothing made sense. Why was he acting this way? Why didn’t he contact the others? Why were we staying so close to the hideout? How could he act so calmly and undisturbed through all of this – eating freaking spicy tuna like it was noth-

Wait. Spicy? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, noting how he chewed without a care in the world. Certainly without any pain. Something that he should have been complaining about. I mean, Dazai hated spicy foods, right? So why was he so unaffected? Could it have been all an act – one he played even in front of Odasaku? Or…

My blood froze. It couldn’t be…

“Sorry, I guess I’m just a little tired and stressed,” I apologized, catching his attention as I continued meekly, “Everything’s just changed so much in the past few days. It’s hard to believe that I can now speak and understand others now. Makes that first round of Pictionary seem so far away.”

He blinked before his expression softened, “A lot has happened huh?”

“Yeah. And to think it all started with you drawing that picture of a crab to ask if I was hungry.”

My heart pounded as I fought to keep my smile straight as he paused. Did he know? Did he suspect? Oh, please let me be wrong. Please let me be wrong…!

“Yes, you have grown so much since then.”

Oh my God… Oh my God…!

It took every ounce of self-control not to get up immediately and raise suspicions – instead continuing a nauseating reminiscence with the man. After a few minutes, I politely excused myself to the bed in the loft upstairs under the excuse I was exhausted despite being more awake now than ever before. He offered to help me up the stairs but I declined. Didn’t think I could handle feeling him so close again.

I calmly walked up the stairs and plopped onto the bed. Only when my back was turned to the railing did I cover my mouth to hold back the screams. My instincts were on full alert, everything slowly making sense while at the same time baffling me. All of it collected with one terrifying revelation that shook me to the core.

The man sitting at the bottom of the stairs was not Dazai Osamu, and whoever they were they wanted what I knew just as much if not more than the demon they stole me away from.

Notes:

Hi! So a little off-timing with the typical Tuesday uploads, but I did want to do this a bit early just to give a quick update.

I've been outlining the series and as of now have gone well past the 100 chapter mark with the outline, and instead of going for the record of the world's longest novel, I've decided to split things up into two parts for this series - hence why you see the 71 limit to this one as of now. I am currently working on a title for the second part but other than that everything is running smoothly, although I may take a little break between parts.

Now, back to the story, I'm so proud of all of you ♥ Catching onto "Dazai" so quickly melts my heart and makes me think that I should go back to not being as obvious with my subtle hints. But, all in all, bravo~

@lipstickgremlin: Haha well, thank loads of coffee and the fact that I've almost been awaiting this arc since the beginning - especially as it marks a big turning point for the series. Aww, thank you. It could really be anything at this point but the whole mind thing is what I'm going with now. And right? I'm scared for everyone right now, but also that part of me that's just like 'If you don't see them die are they actually dead?' That and maybe the Book can reverse things? Idk anymore with this wonderful series.

@Nathy: Aww thank you ♥ It's a mystery to me to how I did it, but glad to see you enjoy it ♥

@seneca: Haha yes it was very spontaneous for me, almost like this chapter. Hmm, you do have a point with Dazai's arrival but at the same time he is on par with Fyo so would theoretically find her fairly quick - but I agree with not that fast and rather reckless rescue attempt and detour. Ah, yes and now that she realizes things aren't as they appear, it does present a rather troubling issue for her, one that sadly does not improve in the near future.

@uwuscope: Hmm, well if that is his ability than it would very much make sense. My theory aside, for this work I am sticking with the traditional theory that he is able to kill with a touch despite how Violet and myself think that there is more to it than that. Basically keeping it vague because Fyo's character thrives on that second-guessing aspect.

Thank you all for the lovely support~ Hope everyone has a relaxing weekend and see you later ♥

Chapter 55: No Escape

Summary:

We can run, but we won't get far.

Notes:

Warning: Mild suggestive themes

The mattress below was soft – like a cloud of feathers compared to the concrete I vividly recalled; the pillow supportive and retaining a faint scent of pine, remnants of the owners. It was nice even if it was odd sleeping in someone else’s bed uninvited. Yeah. If only that was the worst of my problems.

Pinnacle of which resting on the sofa below – a tentative glance showing his eyes closed and breaths calm.

He finally fell asleep, something that only solidified my suspicions. Dazai wouldn’t fall asleep so easily in this situation. I knew that, even with his quirks, he held enough sense not to let his guard down just yet. Although maybe he was just exhausted? Did he rest at all? Was his body giving in like mine so desperately wanted to? Was that why he answered wrong earlier?

I couldn’t be sure, and didn’t want to take the risk. Things were happening too fast and, as bad as it sounds, I couldn’t trust him. Not when everything in my being screamed to run away.

And that’s exactly what I planned as I carefully approached the window, thankful that the cabin’s owners invested in quality old-fashioned ones that didn’t squeak or trigger some alarm system when opened. Now for the hard part…

Casting a final glance into the darkness where Dazai slept, I took a breath and climbed onto the roof. No turning back now. What if this was a mistake? What if in doing this Fyodor caught me again? Did he see this coming? Was that why he let us escape so easily?

There was no way to tell. All I knew was that I had to get out and somehow find my way back to the Agency. At least if this was all just a big misunderstanding, then we could catch up there and figure out things in a better environment. As of now… I could only hope that if the man below really was Dazai that he’d be safe.

If he got caught because of this… I don’t know what I’d do.

No. Don’t think about that. Focus on getting out. Focus. Focus…

I treaded forward carefully, the scratchy material of the roof’s shingle’s pricking at the bottom of my feet whose shoes were unfortunately by the door and could not be replaced by the larger variations in the room without tripping me up. At the very least it made it a bit easier to sneak my way down to the edge – one with the perfectly positioned tree to climb down. Oh, climbing skills don’t fail me now…

By some miracle, I managed to jump to the tree and stumble my way down with only minor scrapes and noise – at least enough to be mistaken as some squirrel or raccoon jumping around at night instead of some crazy, battered woman. Geez. The bark rubbed harshly against my tattered skin, and I’m pretty sure I reopened the gash on my side. Hopefully I wouldn’t bleed out before finding someone. How sad would that be if it happened?

My knees nearly buckled by the time I dropped to the ground, somehow retaining enough strength to remain standing and begin jogging in what I hoped to be the direction of Yokohama or some road that would lead me in that direction. The sticks and rocks and other detritus sent small bursts of pain up my spine, but compared to what awaited if Fyodor’s goons caught me… I could endure it a bit longer.

Unfortunately, everything looked eerily the same even after my lungs began to burn. It was maddening and made me understand how people could get lost in the forest. Everything looked similar and yet different. Like you were walking in circles that made you question your judgement. Was this really the right way? Was I actually getting closer to Yokohama or further away?

A clearing appeared through the trees, one I instinctively approached. It was out in the open which meant nothing good in terms of hiding, but at least it indicated I wasn’t completely turned about. Maybe it would give me a chance to figure things out.

Stepping into the light of the crescent moon above, I at last allowed myself a moment to rest. One that would end far too quickly as a voice broke the silence.

“Running off in the middle of the night? Abandoning your comrade? How naughty,” the voice that once was a source of comfort now made my stomach drop precariously; my heart picking up pace as it continued oily, “What a pretty little liar you’ve become, Violet-chan.”

No way. No way! I spun around to find Dazai leaning coyly against a tree, his expression a dark twist on demeaning. Like a wolf that meticulously hunted its prey, giving some vain hope of escape only to snatch it away. It was terrifying. Was he reverting back to his Mafia self? Or was it always a part of him? Or were the real person’s traits finally rising above the illusion? I didn’t know.

It seemed to be a reoccurring theme as of late with the guy.

Shock held me so firm I couldn’t find my voice – limbs locked in place as he chuckled and sauntered my way. How did he get here? Was that an act earlier? Of course it was. Dazai or not, there was no way he’d actually be asleep. But why let me get this far? What did he want?

He stopped an arm’s length away; small smile not reaching his cold eyes that seemed to peer into my very soul. It was startling and would have frozen me if not for his action in reaching out. That, somehow, finally alerted my body to move as I flinched away with a startled gasp – stumbling back a few steps to his portentous chuckle.

There was no mistaking that level of iciness – no way someone could easily fake that intensity in his posture while simultaneously achieving some semblance of a casual manner. All this meant that either this guy was an extremely good actor or…

Could this all just be one big misunderstanding? Did he purposely answer wrong to not tip me off? But why? Did he think that Fyodor brainwashed me or something? Nothing made sense – each theory only adding onto the next; all of them too outlandish and risky to accept.

Was this really Dazai or some imposter? The thought terrified me almost as much as the fact I could no longer tell. Since when did Dazai become so unfamiliar? Or…

Was this from Fyodor’s subliminal suggestions? Was it possible he got to me more than I realized? Or was this all just in my head? Was I going insane?

“I-I don’t understand!” the words fell from my lips as I held onto my pounding head. It certainly felt like I was going insane. Nothing made sense, and I glared at him in what could only be the look a cornered animal would give, “Who are you?!”

He smiled, as calm as could be, while I was having a mental breakdown, “Say my name.”

What was this? Answer one question with the same question? Say his name? I wanted to know what that name was!

A light simper sounded as he took a few steps forward, this time his cool touch caressing my cheek. It was jarring at first, like getting hit by icy water; yet in the next second all my nerves calmed. It was insane. Could this really be Dazai? Was this some sort of physiological response? It felt nice – soothing. Like I could fall asleep at any moment…

Almost like all my energy dissipated at his touch. A familiar feeling. Had it always been like this? A frown tugged my lips. No…it hasn’t. Only recently has this sensation become familiar. But when? When he rescued me? No…

My heart stopped, weary nerves suddenly alit with adrenaline that rubbed like sandpaper in my veins. It wasn’t when he came to rescue me. This sensation, I was introduced to it weeks ago. Back in that hideout after Soukoku’s reunion when Dazai returned. When he kissed me.

And also when Fyodor held me or made any sort of contact with my skin.

“No…” I rasped, paralyzed by the conclusions I came to and the dark glint in his eyes, “That’s not… It can’t be! You’re…!”

His grin twisted, hand sliding from my cheek down to collect a few strands of my hair he leaned down to press a kiss to. The entire time his unnerving gaze never left mine – flashes of red growing ever more prominent. Red? No. Not quite.

They were violet.

My knees shook precariously, and I couldn’t breathe. No. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening!

“Impressive. You have quite the learning curve, much better than what I expected,” he smirked, voice wavering between two very different ones and creating something that belonged in nightmares.

“No…you can’t be…! That’s impossible!” I vainly argued despite the reality already sinking into my skin as his grin curled in a twisted sort of amusement.

“We work with supernatural abilities, my dear,” the image distorted, illusion finally dissolving into truth in what could only be a horrifying manner as Dazai’s features melted into Fyodor’s who finished with a small smile, “We live in the world of impossible.”

A scream lodged itself into my throat, knees at last buckling and sending me to the ground. This entire time… This whole time…! There’d never been a moment where I was safe. He was with me the entire time! And I told him about the Agency and Dazai so easily – about Odasaku! My stomach churned. How? How did I not see this?

Did I just give him everything he wanted?

My hands somehow found their way into my hair and over my mouth, attempting to conceal the short gasps and yells escaping. Reality hit cold and hard – most cruelly in the fact that now that everything had come to light, there was only one place we would be going. Back to his hideout. Back to that room.

Only this time, I knew the torture would be much, much worse. He would focus tenaciously on that crack. The very one I exposed without a thought.

The scream stuck in my throat finally managed to climb up, and yet just as it started to emerge, a callous hand pushed me down. My back hit the ground rather jarringly, not that my shellshock could register the pain tingling along my back. Rather, it forced me to meet Fyodor’s gaze as he sat on my waist, effectively pinning me both physically and mentally.

This position… It couldn’t be. Was he…? I mean, if that really was him… Then that meant that kiss was…

Bile rose in my throat, and it took everything I had to shove it down and rasp, “H-How?”

That’s right. Focus. Don’t ask for what will never happen. Focus on getting as much information as you can from him. I mean, I survived two days of torture. Maybe I could survive a bit more? It was a vain hope, but one I needed as breaths came haphazardly and I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. He simpered softly; trailing his hand down my arm to lace our fingers together.

“Think about it. How did I manage to do the impossible?”

Impossible? Like an ability? But his didn’t involve illusions – or at least I was fairly certain it didn’t. But what else-?

Movement in my peripheral vision prompted my eyes to dart past his form to where another stood a little ways off – his militaristic attire standing out despite its neutral tones. Another person. A member of the Rats? By the way he was standing nonchalantly, more than likely. But why was he here? Back up? Or…?

No. He wasn’t here to shadow his boss. All of this stress must be messing with my head. Although considering the mental breakdown I was in the middle of, can you blame me?

He wasn’t here as back up. He was the ability user – the one who made this charade possible.

Fyodor smiled at my realization, filling in some of the details, “Griboyedov-san’s ability is quite useful, wouldn’t you agree? It allows him to manipulate reality based on the knowledge he has of others’ appearances. That night was merely a trial run, but who could have known it would bring me to the fascinating secret the Detective Agency was so keen on protecting?”

His words were like knives; only assuring what I desperately prayed was some horrible dream. A nightmare. One bent on continuing as his free hand tilted my chin back so I met those poisonous violet eyes. A sight that blurred as tears surged and spilt down my cheeks.

“No… You’re lying! This can’t be…!” my voice wavered and my eyes fought between closing and banishing this nightmare and keeping him in sights lest he do something. Not like I could stop him, but the semblance of control was nice if not futile.

“Can’t be what? Real?” he spoke oily, chuckling as he leaned closer until his lips brushed my jaw and hot air teased my ear – the last straw I needed to slam my eyes shut as a whimper escaped while his voice dipped darkly, “Believe me, Violet, this is all very much real.”

Notes:

Another early update since I don't know if I'll be able to tomorrow.

And we finally learn how that night was possible; though all of your theories were very interesting and tempting to adopt - some coming extremely close to the answer too.

Some background on our newest addition:
Alexander Griboyedov - Ability: Woe from Wit; as Fyo mentioned, it allows him to create illusions in a similar manner to Tanizaki's

@uwuscope: Thank you! It was definitely a roller coaster to write like this one and the ones to come

@seneca: Aww thank you! And frankly I'm surprised too considering a lot of my works kinda dwindle off halfway through - Immersion surprisingly going fairly strong in comparison. The decision for a split in the series, however, only came on recently and makes for this part's ending a little abruptly but I do enjoy those lovely cliffhangers and unanswered questions that drive everyone insane.
Ahh, yes she is still very much in a lot of trouble and we've reached that point where she begins to realize how far over her head she's in with Fyo.

Next time, we finally get to see how our lovely detectives are coping with this. Hope everyone is well and has a lovely day~

Chapter 56: Life in the Underground

Summary:

Fight to forget the demons lurking in the shadows. Fight to forget in hopes that it will help you to survive.

Notes:

Warning: Strong suggestions of abuse and sexual assault; nothing explicit but please be careful of the first section if these are sensitive topics for you.

I don’t remember when I realized that the blackness around me wasn’t unconsciousness but rather darkness itself. A numb shell coated my senses – a defense mechanism that struggled to fight off the persistent ache in my body. Without needing light, I knew a good portion of my skin was covered in itchy dry blood and bruises.

Not all products of a blade and the harsh ground.

No! Don’t think about it! Just forget! Forget. Forget. Forget…!

A stabbing pain shot up my spine, forcing a whimper that sounded like a wail out into the deafening silence. How was I supposed to forget when my body physically would not let me? When it constantly reminded me of his touch? Of his lips against mine? Of the sensation of-

No! I cried out, curling in on myself only to knock my hands against something hard.

What…?

Tentatively I reached out, half expecting a hand to cruelly snatch my wrist. My heart twisted painfully in apprehension worse than any haunted house could ever hope to conjure. To my relief- No. Not relief. That’d imply I was settled and okay – something far from what I felt upon my fingers brushing against rough wood. Dread pressed down coldly, only growing as I traced blindly over the area, finding sharp corners and straight boards straining against something that rained down dryly.

Oh no… No, no, no, no…!

This wasn’t a wood box, it was a freaking coffin. One that, judging by the cloud of dirt I displaced, was buried.

Have you ever seen a movie in which a character gets buried alive? Or even a book that tries to describe it? Well, sad to say that no matter how skilled the author or actor, it does very little justice to the raw panic filling me in that moment. Humans lived above ground for a reason. We had legs and eyes and lungs that breathed air for a reason. We live and walked on the Earth for a reason.

And that reason did not help my quick, raspy gasps or pounding heart I knew full well I should desperately pull in and control but could do neither as I gathered my trembling hands back. This was bad. Way bad. Worse than I could’ve imagined. Fyodor…I thought I knew him. I thought I could predict what horrors he’d unleash.

How horribly wrong I was.

Torture and threats… Everything he did, it wasn’t merely for that time’s sake. No. It all built up to this point. To when he buried me alive in a damn coffin and forced me to relieve every single horrid moment in this horrible suffocating black silence. A place where I’d have no choice but to meditate on all he stole and would steal if he decided to let me out.

“No…” I whispered, struggling to curl in on my side in the small container. In the end, all I managed was tilting my head back and holding onto my aching side and neck.

Already the memories of him hovering over me, of his weight pinning me, my hands held down by his, of the frigid air freezing over my skin, of his teeth sinking painfully into my neck and drawing blood came back with cruel clarity. His laughter and scent so strong I half believed him trapped in here with me. He wasn’t, but he was. The terrible nightmare was potent and, in this hell, real enough for my abused mind to believe it.

Enough to prompt tremors and dry tears down my face as his deathly promise to continue what he started sent my stomach curling in nausea and dread far worse than the stale air slowly suffocating me.  He brought my hopes up only to cruelly bring them crashing down – to haunt me with the reality that awaited should Dazai and the others fail.

Should they not reach me in time to stop-

God… I suppose all of this was torture and all, but even then, this was beyond cruel – far worse than the electricity, ice-hot baths, cuts, bruises, taunts, mental games, and everything combined. He instilled a rotting fear and doubt that festered in the dark silence. Something that now ate at me viciously.

Something vague hallucinations of his touch, of his lips against mine failed to help in the least. Something that, no matter how hard I tried to stay calm – to remind myself of Dazai and hold faith in him – managed to worm its way into until my heart was beating out of my chest and I could scarcely breathe this damnable air.

“Dazai…” I whispered miserably, shaking so hard I’m surprised it came out at all.

“Yosano… Atsushi... Kunikida, Kyouka…! Kenji, Ranpo! Tanizaki! Naomi, Haruno! Fukuzawa! Chuuya!”

With each name despair and desperation closed in on me, driving me further into insanity as I began screaming, “Someone, please! Help me!”

Small tears rolled down my cheeks as I pushed at the wood, manic need to just get out blinding my fingers to the pain of scratching the lid. Always thought it was odd that victims scratched their hands bloody. Can’t say I’d have the luxury of ignorance anymore. Who’d have thought such a thing would be so blissful?

Raw fear nearly sent me in hysterics if not for the confining space and depleting air. Should probably calm down and ration breaths, but I was beside myself at this point, crying out for anyone to save me from this hell, yet knowing the only way out was to give what I must never let Fyodor obtain.

Something that would destroy those I cared about and not even guarantee my own life in the process. Although, if I did cave, then there really was no point in living.

A gruesome reality my instincts objected to violently even as the dirt falling around me clumped with sticky red blood around my fingers and down my arms as I continued to scream and plead and beg for help. For a savior to rip me from this nightmare. For someone to rescue me from this hell. For help some part of me knew would not come.

It was all too much. The frayed wire I weakly defended was doomed from the start. I held no chance in preserving it. None at all. And when it broke, I feared the tremendous whiplash it would bring about as everything tunneled in hot, suffocating blackness impossibly deeper than the one I found myself in.

“Dazai… Dazai…!” my voice scraped along my raw throat painfully, no longer graced by the tears that all but dried up as my hands fell weakly beside my pounding head, “Please…! I can’t take this anymore!”

 

…

 

A sharp breath cut through the underside of murmurs in the office, figure once hunched over on his desk now filled with tension. His mind reeled, replaying horrid memories of his death – of his blood on his hands. Of how that familiar face transformed into hers. Of the light he let slip through his fingers.

Of once vibrant eyes now staring lifelessly into his alongside a demeaning voice sneering in his ears.

Will you save this one?

“Dazai-san…?” a soft voice beckoned his attention where Atsushi glanced his way. His dichromatic eyes were lined with a familiar black – one many sported in the building after days of searching and coming up with dead ends.

How many days passed? Two? Seven? Thirty? It felt like ages even as his body recalled five thanks to numerous all-nighters he pulled during his time in Port Mafia. Apparently Ango accomplished them easily. Probably thanks to an assortment of caffeine and energy supplements. Perhaps he should pay him a visit and take some souvenirs back…

No. He sighed. They didn’t have time for that. Five days… Five days passed. The amount of damage he could inflict upon her in that time was terrifying. Was she even alive at this point? How many scars did he cut into her? How much hope and will to live did she have left?

Had she already given up by now?

Despair and self-disgust were familiar cancers eating him alive. He should have known. He should have seen this coming. Yet he was so blinded and taken by those soft eyes and gentle smile and warm light that he forgot the most basic truth of his existence.

Everything that could ever be worth wanting was lost the moment he obtained it.

And Violet Fitzgerald was by no means an exception to that – no matter how badly he wished she was.

Since when had such feelings planted themselves in him? Since when did he associate her with beautiful and wonderful things?

No. He couldn’t think of her that way. He needed to be indifferent – treat her like any other faceless stranger on the streets. If he no longer cared for her like that, then that’d mean she was not his; that he couldn’t lose her. Yes. Just forget. Forget, forget, forget…!

But how could he possibly forget that breathtaking flower twirling with him amidst the snow and fireworks?

A heavy sigh left his lips as he trained his features into a suitable expression to respond to his subordinate, “Ahhh, this is all quite exhausting, wouldn’t you agree Atsushi-kun?”

The young teen flinched, attempts to form a response swirling in his eyes yet never passing his lips as the brunette continued softly, “A weary mind will only hinder our efforts. You should go take a break,” his eyes drew across the room, landing on a couple in particular as he added quietly, “Perhaps with a few others.”

Atsushi followed his gaze, easily catching onto the more worn faces among the crowded office. Only, instead of the typical liveliness and lighthearted chatter, a heavy cloud weighed down on them – one much worse than the time after the Azure Messenger case.

And why not? The stakes were certainly higher this time around. Because while the Port Mafia desired her ability and held her life in some regard, Dostoevsky would not hesitate to end it the second he pulled every bit of information from her.

Information detrimental to both the Agency and Port Mafia – and quite possibly all of Yokohama and the world itself.

Hence the serious atmosphere, strained tension, and…additions to their efforts. Namely the scribe from the Guild and his furry companion who entered on a mission to get their resident master detective to read his novel only to get roped into everything. Poe if he recalled Yosano saying so correctly. Someone with wits comparable to Ranpo – a trait that was more than welcomed in this growingly hopeless search.

And honestly, at this point, they were willing to accept nearly any aid in getting her back.

Even if it meant fulfilling a promise made in an entirely different conflict.

Dazai pushed that option to the back of his mind. No. Not yet. They were not quite to that point where they needed his help. Indeed, with Poe’s input, they made great strides with renewed vigor. They could do this. He could do this. Just focus. Focus on finding her. Focus on what he would do in this situation. Focus. Focus.

The detective inhaled and exhaled calmly, noting yet ignoring the look his subordinate gave as he followed a small group downstairs to the café – owners exhibiting a remarkable sympathy for them and their dilemma in offering discounted coffee and staying later than usual for the long nights. Was it because of their relationship with the Agency? Or did they sense the weight of this job?

“Not going with them?”

He blinked, glancing up from his screen to find Kunikida diligently searching through his, not moving to meet his gaze yet willing to listen. It was an odd thing – not to be yelled at by the blonde aside from the tension relieving acts he played if only to lighten the pressure on his shoulders. And yet an unspoken truth rested between them.

Without needing to speak a word, Kunikida knew how torn, battered, and exhausted his partner felt.

“And leave you all alone? What kind of partner would that make me, Kunikida-kun?” he responded lightly, earning a huff from the blonde.

“Exactly the reckless, lazy one I know.”

“How mean. And to think I brought you back some coffee last night.”

“Yes, one among twelve that just so happened to appear on a tab with my name on it,” Kunikida growled, hazel eyes at last darting up to glare at him. It brought a lighthearted amusement to the brunette, something he desperately clung onto if only to keep some hope alive.

“How curious… I wonder how that could’ve happened?”

Kunikida huffed, bitter scolding notably refraining from passing his lips much to his partner’s subtle surprise as he instead removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose, “So, at what point are we going to move to the next step?”

Ahh. So he’s realized the fruits of their labor have been less than satisfactory as well.

“Not yet,” he responded, clowning tone dissipating into a calm one, “Right now is too early. We still have some leads and the information Ranpo-kun and Poe-kun are sorting out. Going to the next step now would only cause undue hardship.”

Something they only prolonged in the blonde’s case as with every moment her torment grew worse and worse. How long could they keep stalling? How much time did she have left? What all did Dostoevsky pull from her?

What remained of that flower?

He felt Kunikida’s frown without needing to look at him, the man feeling the same concerns that ran amok in the building. Yet before he could voice them, Yosano cut him off with a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry so much Kunikida. Violet is strong – not to mention stubborn. I don’t believe she will have given up so easily.”

A noble sentiment. One that allowed the blonde to release a heavy breath as he agreed. One Dazai envied as doubt tainted his heart. Resilience and strength were traits Violet undoubtedly possessed and got her through numerous trials. However, in the wake of that demon, they were rendered pretty much useless.

He of all people knew how easily one could be broken – how simply those attributes shattered under the right heat and pressure. Methods she couldn’t possibly be prepared for. Not considering what she already went through in her past – one relatively peaceful compared to the ones she read. The ones in which they stood center stage.

“Still,” he glanced up as Yosano continued with a solemn look out the window, “I wonder just how much she actually knows…”

Dazai followed her gaze, heart twisting at the golden rays of light shining through as the sun set outside. Memories of her radiant smile, of her hair flowing in the wind like fine silk, of her eyes absorbing that magnificent light tormented him. He recalled his pounding heart, her terrified yell, of the warmth of her fingertips…

The way his heart frayed at the edges and continued tearing even now…

“That does not matter,” they blinked to where Ranpo addressed them, his typical arrogance barbed with familiar exhaustion, “What Violet knows is irrelative. A distraction, so stop worrying and wasting time and get me more information! I’m the world’s greatest detective. I will find her! But to do that you need to give me something!”

His yell cut through the silence, adding onto its weight precariously – stunning the grand majority of the office while those closest to him frowned, knowing the roots of that outburst all too well. More than safeguarding the secrets Violet honored – the ones that rat would not hesitate to tear from her by any means and use to decimate them and everything they held dear – he simply wished to get her back.

To see that light in their presence once more, and drown out the nagging fear that they would be too late. That he would solve the mystery only to find her lifeless in some dark hideaway.

A reality that loomed ever higher as Poe quietly calmed his companion and nudged him back toward the map of Yokohama and the surrounding area while the rest of the office trickled back into finding whatever they could – spirits barely lifting as Atsushi and the others returned with arms full of food and refreshments to keep them going. A nice effort. If only it could give them the information they sorely needed…

Dazai glanced at his phone. One quick press of a button and he could provide them with another source of information – one backed by the denizens of the night; a hundred more eyes to scour the area for the blonde. But in doing that he would need to provide them with the knowledge he gained – of the risk and weight of what would transpire should they fail. Information that would invigorate their efforts yet also strengthen their resolve to find her first so as to capitalize on that promise.

And even if they were eons better than Dostoevsky, could he really allow Violet to fall into the darkness that surrounded Port Mafia? But if they could find her first… And yet that gamble was… No.

A grim expression formed on his features as his fingers brushed the device. They could not waste any more time. Ranpo knew that. They all knew that. It was time to make that bet. They no longer had the luxury of time.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale, and…

“What do you have there, Haruno-san?”

Naomi’s voice cut through the buzzing in his ears with startling clarity, enough to freeze his thumb from pressing the button that would link him with that man. He blinked, feeling an unexplainable urge to glance in the direction of the secretaries as the brunette chagrinned.

“Ah, one of the patrons below gave it to me saying that I looked exhausted and could use something to refresh my mind and maybe gain a new perspective or something like that. It felt rude to deny him so I ended up taking it, even though it appears to be only a portion of the article…”

New perspective? The feeling stirred at the words. His reaction must’ve reached his features as Atsushi and Kunikida shot him quizzical looks he ignored in favor of rising to see what the article entailed.

A seemingly spontaneous move he was not alone in making as moments before he reached the two, Ranpo deftly plucked the paper from her hand.

“R-Ranpo-san?” Haruno blinked, her companion and a good chunk of the Agency just as stupefied by the impromptu action and how Poe and Dazai quickly pressed on either side of the detective to peer at the words on the paper.

A Hospitable Intruder was the article’s title – story detailing the odd findings of a caretaker of some remote cabin in the woods to the south of the city. Apparently while conducting a spur-of-the-moment visit found that it had been broken into, only it was far from an ordinary breaking-and-entering. Indeed, a few photos included in the article showed two cups and a pair of chopsticks cleaned and placed to dry beside the sink alongside a blanket evidently from the couch folded neatly on the loft’s bed.

It was indeed odd and prompted questions as the caretaker admitted that aside from his chagrin at the event happening he was touched by the person and promised not to charge them – instead wishing to return something they left behind. A pair of shoes that instantly made Ranpo and Dazai tense, Poe flinching as Kunikida voiced the room’s anticipation.

“What is it?”

Ranpo shoved the article into Poe’s hand, darting to the map and furiously circling areas and drawing lines and other marks. The former-Guild member staggered with a startled yelp, fumbling to hold onto the paper only for his companion to catch it before it fell. In any other circumstance, Dazai would find the sight entertaining enough to illicit a smile, perhaps even a chuckle, but all he could think about now was one thing.

“Violet was the one who broke into the cabin.”

His response prompted a multitude of gasps as the office quickly surrounded Poe, who let out an alarmed yelp at the mass of people vying to peer at the paper as Dazai swiftly joined Ranpo at the table. The gears in his mind spun rapidly, digesting this piece of information while digging through his memories of what the area contained.

If he recalled correctly, that place was in the confines of a park – one in which many took their vacations; that area in particular a rather envied spot among the more privileged in the nation. One that used to harbor a logging company that was forced to close to preserve the area. Could she have been held there? It was not far from the cabin’s location – only a couple of miles. Could she have made it that far after what Dostoevsky put her through? How did she manage to escape? Did she manage to outwit him? Or… Could it be that she encountered that man again – the one who whisked her away from Port Mafia, the one she called Grey?

Dazai frowned, mind replaying the photo of the sink. There were two cups. Two. Which meant she wasn’t alone. That meant it had to be that man. And yet, at the same time it didn’t. Who did she find in those woods? And why did she leave them so suddenly as to abandon her shoes while they took theirs?

His heart skipped a beat. Could it be…? Did Dostoevsky miscalculate something?

“There!” Ranpo declared, pulling all eyes toward him as he pointed to a spot on the map, one in the opposite direction of the logging area. An abandoned mine. Of course, Dazai narrowed his eyes. It fit perfectly with Dostoevsky’s methods. But if he was pointing there and not in another area, that could only mean...

“You’ve found where Violet-san is being kept?” Atsushi asked breathlessly, Tanizaki frowning beside him, “Eh? But if those are her shoes in the photo doesn’t that mean she isn’t in the hideout?”

Ranpo’s expression turned grim, Dazai sparing the detective from explaining to the rest of the Agency, “Those are her shoes, which means she managed to get away for a time. However,” he grimaced, “It is highly likely she was recaptured during the attempt.”

The young weretiger bristled in alarm alongside the rest of the Agency as worried murmurs gained volume only to be silenced by the stern voice of their leader, “Then that stands all the more reason to act now. Intentional or not, Violet leaving her shoes behind has given us a chance at rescuing her – one we will not let slip through our fingers.”

Everyone in the room nodded, determined and reinvigorated with the resolve to end this and bring her back. Be that as it may, a heavy weight rested in his stomach. What would they encounter upon reaching the hideout? They would have to tread carefully lest they alert Dostoevsky, and yet the buzzing along his skin to snatch the hand he failed to before made him anxious.

Everything fit, and yet even then he knew how easily it could all turn on its head.

“Dazai,” the named blinked as Fukuzawa called out, “Kunikida, Atsushi, and Kyouka – bring Violet back.”

They immediately straightened and nodded in acceptance, Yosano joining them with a terse statement, “I’m coming too. There’s a high chance she’s been critically injured or will be when we go in.”

“Of course,” Fukuzawa nodded, pinning them with his steely gaze that only grew in weight as the entire room looked at them as he finished solemnly, “Bring Violet home safely.”

The five nodded before swiftly filing out the door and racing into the reddening sunset. They finally secured a solid lead. They would not – could not fail. Dazai steadied his heart, beginning to build a plethora of scenarios to counter and anticipate what awaited all the while noting the quiet whisper of his subordinate beside him.

“Please hold on just a bit longer…”

Notes:

My luck with food poisoning grows ever worse. Also there is no worse regret than thinking you can eat a bowl of bland noodles with some salt then feeling like death a few minutes later. Alas, it does make for some good down time to write stuff.

@uwuscope: Yeah, she's not in a good place at all and Fyo's methods of throwing doubt into everything she knows is quite terrifying. Lol, it doesn't seem that long to me. Usually when I write I do it while watching something or listening to music, so I don't really notice the time. Not to mention in high school my AP professor made us write five page essays in under 20 minutes so I'm used to speed writing.

@seneca: Well, I wish I could say she will be fine but Fyo has pretty much established that he will do near anything to get her to break - and he's already done a lot. All in all, Violet is most definitely going to be impacted by the things he does in messing with her thoughts, sense of reality, and pretty much everything. Honestly, it's depressing as all hell and probably why I'm trying to power through these chapters.
Right? It is an interesting ability to say the least and I enjoy Griboyedov's work so thought it'd be a nice chance to throw him into the series.

Hope everything is going well for all of you. Just a few more chapters of this dismal arc and then we can finally move onto some lighter topics.

Chapter 57: Price of Salvation

Summary:

The price of salvation is steep. Few are capable of paying it - fewer willing.

“How do you bring salvation to a fallen world?”

His voice cut through the darkness, pulling my consciousness back easily. Product of conditioning and a lingering will to keep him in my sights prompting my eyes open. Surprised that instinct held on considering not much else did. I was at the end of the line; something he knew which only made this return to those philosophical questions all the more odd.

A clean, well cleaner, room came into focus. I’d been moved. Or was this another illusion? I couldn’t tell. Nothing was certain. Or, rather, nothing but Fyodor. How ironically depressing… The only thing I could trust being real was the very demon that shattered my sense of reality. In that sense he became something of an anchor. Not sure if that was a good thing or not anymore.

Shaky breaths left my lips; my throat still burning from the burying that very nearly ended everything if not for Fyodor pulling me out in the last moments. By some stroke of luck, I passed out to the point my body actually got some fleeting rest before rudely being tugged back when he dumped me into an ice bath. From the way my damp hair still stuck to my cheek and the concrete below, it couldn’t have been that long ago.

Which meant at some point I passed out again and was brought here – hands bound behind my back and dropped near the far side of the room. Odd. I wasn’t tied up to some chair or the wall or anything. Not that it really mattered. I could barely feel my legs. Not to mention the fact that any efforts in trying to get out were useless. Heck I couldn’t even figure out if all of this was real or another illusion.

I couldn’t trust anything, so why try?

Calloused fingers gripped my chin, pushing up with a mocking tenderness so that my eyes met deep violet. Fyodor’s lips curled into a small smirk as he settled onto a knee, “Are you listening, Violet?”

“Huh?”

Wearily I shifted to a better position only for him to grab my arm and tug us to our feet. Sharp pain shot up my body and I hissed as his efforts in steadying me only dug his fingers into the bruises and cuts.

Before I could relax my jaw and open both eyes, he abruptly began pushing us back, nearly causing my feet to tangle as they haphazardly back peddled with increasing disorientation only to knock into the wall. The impact was jarring and ripped a gasp from my throat; any efforts to slide down promptly stopped as he pressed close and supported my weight. Bile churned in my stomach as my heart lodged itself in my throat at our position, and despite my efforts to keep from looking totally afraid I’m sure he saw through with ease.

Be that as it may, the expression that met me when I glared up at him was one I did not expect and nearly washed away all of the negativity and replaced it with a cold surprise.

Once again he repeated his question, this time though it felt almost desperate – like a child begging for an answer. Or a man on the edge of a building, hoping despite his position and events leading up to that moment, someone would miraculously pull him back; tell him that his life still held meaning, and the future hope. Someone who could revive the dying embers that endured the pain for so long on their own.

“How may this world be saved?”

Fyodor’s voice lacked all previous sneer and conviction, coming out like a broken whisper – as if he was the one being tortured all this time. He looked just as exhausted as I felt. It was startling, and caught me off-guard to the point we merely stared at each other in silence for a couple minutes.

His eyes betrayed emotions I didn’t know how to feel about – ones all too familiar and thus making him appear almost human. Was this the man hidden behind all those masks? Or was this merely another? Was he really so much like Dazai that he too sought death? Or maybe he was merely clinging to a dying wish – one he thought I could answer.

How could this broken, cruel reality return to its former peace?

Questions regarding that were hardly new or rare. Everyone longed for blissful days of the past – even if they were not their own. Of days where war and violence were scarce, and children roamed freely with doors unlocked…. I only experienced a snippet of those times, yet the effect was profound. That warm, ideal serenity... Nothing could ever replicate it, yet I still longed for it even now.

To return to the past. To wash clean the muck and darkness. To see those smiling faces and hear that laughter once again.

I, like him, wanted to bring salvation to this world.

How though? How can one erase such prevalent crime and darkness? Fyodor believed it was possible through the slaying of ability users, but experience in my world screamed otherwise. People would always find ways to sin. It was a part of human nature, sadly. Death would not stop in the absence of those powers. The laughter would not return if they were to suddenly disappear.

Was there anything that could be done then? What could we do to save it? What was the price we must pay to see that reality once more?

“Nothing…”

Fyodor flinched as if splashed with cold water. Heck, even I was caught off by the answer my lips drew out. Yet it was the only thing that made sense in the moment. And I’m not saying my weary, abused consciousness simply jumped to the most depressing conclusion. No. I can’t explain it, but the answer just felt right in that moment, and I think that even now it still feels the same.

“Nothing can save this world. Not ridding it of ability users, not fighting crime, not pursuing ideals or power or wealth or a means to revive the dead or return to the past…. Nothing will work,” I whispered, finding some strength to meet his sharp gaze, “This world is broken beyond repair. However…”

As hellish as things had been and were continuing to become, a miracle occurred in that moment as a small bubble of that long gone warmth rose within me and I weakly smiled, “What is so wrong about that? Even if it is broken, I still love this beautiful, cruel world.”

My conviction was true if not a tad dramatic, yet I believed it. The world was by no means perfect, but it wasn’t unbearable. Even alone, it held enough hope to get by. It’s why everyone isn’t dead already. It’s why we’re all still here. Something I think he understood even as he rejected my answer – sharp eyes hollowing in indifference as he straightened to look down on me like some disappointed parent; his abrupt pulling back a few inches nearly sent me to the ground if not for some miracle that gave strength to my wobbling legs.

Despite how the look in his eyes terrified my raw nerves, I held his gaze stubbornly. I wasn’t about to cave. Sure, I empathized with the fundamentals of his wish on some level, but it wasn’t enough to spill everything. I understood, but could not agree. Killing everyone wasn’t the answer. There had to be another way. Maybe, as naïve as it felt, one that brought him salvation as well. But at what cost? Was it one we were able to pay – one we were willing to pay?

“Sentiment and inaction will not yield salvation,” he practically scolded, eyes narrowing sternly, “A prophet’s hope is strong, but it requires correct action and will to accomplish anything.”

“True, but action without hope only leads to dead ends,” I rebutted. Huh, guess I had more energy left than I thought. Maybe from a debate in which I actually managed to match him step for step? Wish I could dwell on that accomplishment. Kinda hard to do with a persistent ache and sleep deprivation.

Fyodor cocked his head, but instead of shooting back like I expected, his lips curled as he leaned closer, reaching to tilt my chin up and subtly correct my posture, “And don’t you have an admirable amount of that.”

You say that like I know how it’s possible to hope so much. Well, sucks for both of us cause I held no clue. It felt stupid and yet I couldn’t give up. I wanted so badly to return – to go back to everyone and relish in that light. It hurt to be apart from them; to spend the first however many days of communication without them. I wanted to see them, to talk with them, to be with them… Maybe instead of hope it was more of a wish.

One I desperately clung onto in this hellhole.

Time ticked onwards without any stabbing or cutting or burning or increased pain. Sad that I expected them so readily that the lack of any left me bewildered. Fyodor’s touch was firm yet not bruising. Really the only thing different was the sapping sensation of his ability chipping away at my already battered energy. Yet even that was negated upon feeling the ropes around me grow taut before snapping loose at the sharp edge of his knife.

What? My mind hiccupped, not quite processing what was happening. Did he want to move to another room? Was this some taunt – that he could unbind me without worrying that I’d bolt? Please. I may not get far with my shaky legs but the slim chance was enough for some hope. And like he said, I held a lot of it.

“Are you sure about that?” his smirk curled further, eyes practically daring me to try – going so far as to take a couple steps back.

Will to prove him wrong surged as I shot back just as coyly, “You sure you can stop me if I do? Adrenaline is a powerful energy source – one I’m fairly certain I possess more of.”

“Perhaps, but it is limited, and time is something you unfortunately do not possess.”

Please. There’s more than enough to get past you. Sure, with his illusion ability user goon it didn’t mean much. But… If I could just get out and leave a sign for the others to see, then it would be worth it. There was no chance I could escape on my own, that much was certain, but if I could guide them here…

Adrenaline and determination fueled me forward as I darted around him, ready to bolt only to be met with sharp pain assaulting my scalp. A sharp yelp escaped my lips as I jerked to a stop. Damn, I grit my teeth as tears pricked my eyes. Fyodor’s reflexes were something else, that or I really was just another open book to him.

Pressure built as he tugged up on my hair, forcing my arms to shoot up and claw at his wrist if only to alleviate the pain. Out of instinct, an eye shut – the other close behind if not for a need to keep it open for whatever good that would do as he pulled back so my head tilted, grimace meeting his smirk sidelong as he loomed above.

“It’s far too late for that now, my dear. You’re in too deep,” he leaned closer, breath hot against my neck, “All that is left is to give in.”

Yeah. As if. The fact you’re telling me to do that means you’re getting fed up – a solid win if I’ve ever seen one.

Be that as it may, no sense of victory came, instead the dread only rose as he curled an arm around my waist and squeezed my back flush with his chest; other hand letting go only to swiftly ensnare the two above my head. My heart pounded so loud I was sure he heard. Vulnerability was never a pleasant feeling, but now it borderlined cruel.

Especially as echoes of his vow resounded in my mind, pulling tears to the corners of my eyes I desperately shoved down.

“N-Not a chance!” I grit my teeth to keep my trembling jaw from showing how I was drowning in terror.

His chuckle trailing down my spine lodged my heart in my throat, sensation only worsening as he spoke ominously, “So much faith, even now. It is almost tragic how in the next few moments it will all fall apart.”

“What are you-?!”

“Dostoevsky-sama,” a rough voice boomed in the room, startling me from my thoughts as the guy from the clearing, the ability user Griboyedov or whatever Fyodor called him, entered the room tailed by two nasty looking goons.

His attire was reminiscent of a soldier complete with an ornate looking sword strapped to his hip. In any other setting he’d be kind of cool – one of those reenactors that stood out of place yet held a weird regality. Shame he had to side with Fyodor.

Be that as it may, this was new. No one ever stepped into one of Fyodor’s sessions or talks – let alone having the gall to interrupt him. It was jarring. Like getting splashed with cold water that only became icier as he finished grimly.

“They have arrived.”

They? Who was he-?

“Careful. If this really is where he’s hiding, then there are countless traps. We can’t afford any reckless blunders.”

My heart skipped a beat. That was Kunikida! And that hushed response grating against the silence was Kyouka! They found us. They finally found us! My heart skipped beats, pounding loudly in my ears. No words came; instead the consuming shellshock was so potent I didn’t even realize Fyodor released my hands until they brushed against his arm.

All I could think about were those voices. Ones I recognized and understood. Voices belonging to the people I waited for so long to see.

One in particular wringing my heart even as it brought sparks of dangerous hope, “Let me worry about any traps. You just focus on finding her.”

Dazai! His name teased the tip of my tongue, yet remained stuck there as forms at last appeared in the doorway. My heart skipped beats, easily recognizing them even in the dim light. Time stopped as we stood on opposite sides of the room – silence hanging and suffocating only to be broken as a horrid realization trailed up my spine.

Fyodor’s simper matched the melody of that dread as he whispered in my ear, “Shatter and split, Violet…” And let me have what remains.

Impossible… My gaze darted toward Griboyedov, noting the sickening black letters surrounding his form and creating a barrier around us – a tear in space. One that achieved the impossible and froze my blood as I instinctually turned back to the four in the doorway.

Could he be creating another illusion? Was it possible to make them look so real – to sound so real? But how? What was the extent of it? And why would he create a barrier? Could I really trust that these were the people I knew? Could I take that chance? Could I trust what my eyes saw?

Could they? My heart skipped beats. Was this actually happening? It made sense – making this far crueler than Fyodor playing another trick. Which meant it had to be their eyes piercing through the darkness and yet one horrid fact remained.

They couldn’t see us – they couldn’t see me.

Piercing despair stronger than any blow and sharper than any blade nearly drove me into giving in right then and there. However, instincts pushed me to a final desperate move if only to last a little while longer.

“Atsushi! Kunikida! Kyouka! Yosano! Dazai!” I yelled, thrashing in Fyodor’s arms. With each name, my throat felt like it was tearing apart, but the pain was numbed by my panic and rising tears as they continued rummaging without any indication we were feet away.

Whatever torture I endured earlier paled to this agony, and Fyodor’s smirk pushed me over the edge. He knew. He planned this. Cruelly, mercilessly thought this far ahead because if I somehow managed to survive to this point, this would certainly be my undoing. And as much as I wanted to protest and fight it, he was inarguably correct.

“There’s nothing here, she must be in deeper,” Yosano spoke tersely, leading them out of the room along with fragments of my heart.

“No! I’m right here!” I screamed vainly, praying a small portion of my voice would somehow reach – that Atsushi would hear and save me.

It didn’t happen, and seeing them file out of the dark room drained every last ounce of strength from my bones – Fyodor’s grip at last disappearing as he let me fall to my knees. Fragments of my heart departed with each person that stepped out, and I could feel the tears gather in my eyes and distort my vision as I rasped each name as their forms vanished alongside the light.

“Yosano… Kunikida… Kyouka… Atsushi…” my breath hitched as Dazai went to follow, only to pause in the doorway.

A tiny, cruel light of hope flickered inside as he looked directly at us – giving the impression he could see. Everything stopped in that silent stare off. If he tilted his head down just a bit, he would look directly into my eyes. Maybe even dispel this cruel twist of fate.

Tragically it never came as, after prompted by his partner, the bandaged man turned and left, taking with him my last remaining hope as I whispered, “No…”

This couldn’t be happening. This had to be some horrid nightmare. No way. Not even this world could be so cruel. It had to be a dream – another illusion... It couldn’t…

Calloused hands tugged me to my feet, Griboyedov’s as evidenced by his sword rising to rest threateningly along my front and neck as Fyodor spoke calmly, “I believe we’ve overextended our stay. Shall we?”

“No…” I cried, weakly trying to escape and touch them – convinced if I could they would see me.

They were so close their voices still reached us. However, due to this damnable ability nothing we said would reach them. Not even my shouts that turned into heavy sobs as he pulled me away – Dazai’s voice echoing in my ears tauntingly as Griboyedov’s sword pricked at my skin, pain feeling distant in comparison to how my heart shattered.

“Dazai! Dazai please!” I begged, reaching out as if I could possibly escape now, “I’m right here! Please! Dazai!”

Something snapped and after all I endured I no longer had the strength to hold back as I closed my eyes and screamed, “Shuji!”

I’m somewhat glad the stinging tears forced my eyes shut as I knew Fyodor must have smirked. I finally broke. At long last he would get what he pried for so adamantly these past few days; knowing I no longer held the will to fight back. How could I after all of this?

Maybe when he was finished he would dump my lifeless body somewhere they could find and I’d spend the last moments of unconsciousness with them.

It wasn’t fair. I didn’t want that, not for them or myself. I wanted to remain strong for them – to be heroic like them. But I couldn’t. It was stupid to think otherwise. I wasn’t a hero. I was a weak, broken human. Someone beyond salvation and now hope.

Slumping against the soldier’s chest, I cried softly, letting despair eat away the remnant of energy I had left and pull me into darkness. This time I prayed the light would not wake me again.

There was nothing left to save anymore.

Notes:

I can eat solid food again. I am so happy I could cry even with having to get final check ups. Thank you everyone for the well wishes ♥ Food poisoning sucks, and I hope none of you ever have to experience it.

As for this chapter, I almost felt guilty after seeing how many of you shared Violet's hope of getting saved. But then again, I did warn that this was going to be a rather taxing arc that has not quite yet reached the bottom. Still, this will be the last we see of Violet for a good amount of time, until then the painful side of the ADA's view on events and what they decide to do from here on.

@uwuscope: Yeah it was a nightmare at first, especially since he graded harshly on grammar and spelling, but after a few months we got used to it and I actually find myself thanking him for it since essays come so easily to me now (I even ended the final exam with like 2 hours to spare and scored a 5/5).

@seneca: Definitely worse before getting better, but not what you think just yet. She is going to have a good chunk of phobias and demons to tackle - most of which will be addressed in the next part of the series, but some of the major ones in the final chapters. Recovery can be a mountain in and of itself to accomplish and takes more time than anyone would prefer, something I want to try to show with Violet's recovery after this, but alas we have some time before that.
Oooh someone like me who researches random things~ You are correct and as for how long she was down there, well, she was out for at least an hour or two and obviously taken out in the final moments, so unfortunately for Violet she stayed there for as close as one could get to 5 hours without dying.

@MisuSan: Aww thank you ♥ I honestly don't know what to say to such lovely comments. Hopefully this chapter was good as well and doesn't drive everyone into depression.

@Catami: Welcome back! No worries, life has been less than kind to me as well, but taking the time to rest and recover is always important so there's no need to apologize my dear. So long as you're healthy and happy that's all that matters c:
Haha yes, it only took, what, 50 chapters? It is very refreshing though, especially in terms of writing even as I still find myself writing with Violet not speaking as much. Aww thank you! I think Fyo is the hardest one to write since his way of thinking is so drastically different from everyone else's and trying to get myself into his mindset is a bit jarring. Still glad to see it is paying off in some way. As for saving, well, they will...eventually.

Thank you all once again for the lovely support and well wishing. Until next time~

Chapter 58: The Burden of Knowledge

Summary:

Knowledge of the truth can be painful, but it is in knowing what is real and true that we are able to grow and move forward.

Grey clouds surrounded them, dispersing a light shower that fell in endless waves. Not enough to qualify as a storm, but sufficient in dampening everything and creating a somber atmosphere suiting for the mood within the walls of the Agency. It was a suffocating feeling that drifted all the way to the café below – scent of coffee and presence of the owner only a little relieving to the ache.

Atsushi gazed out the window, aimlessly watching the rain fall. Across, Kyouka quietly sipped on her tea, the quiet a small relief compared to the heavy silence above that drove him to requesting a break if only to prevent himself from completely falling apart. It felt selfish, and a part of him felt bad for escaping when he knew everyone felt just as horrid as he did.

After all, they too had their hopes dashed when they returned crestfallen and clearly without the blonde woman.

The young teen grimaced, recalling the moment where their hopeful faces crumbled into horrid reality. He froze, unable to so much as look them in the eyes and may have stayed like that in the rain if not for Dazai resting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him forward with a small smile.

Pathetic. How pathetic of him! Everyone was hurting – depending on them to bring her back – and here he was, running away because he couldn’t take their despair. The very thing he caused. He should’ve tried harder – should’ve stretched his senses further. Maybe then this day would be different. But he of all people knew there was no changing of the past. Still, that did not stop the longing or nightmare whispering in his mind.

Someone who cannot save another does not deserve to exist.

“You shouldn’t pity yourself.”

Atsushi flinched, shooting a startled glance at Kyouka who pinned him with her clear eyes. Her words were like a splash of cold water – eerily echoing those that Dazai relayed to him in that train station. Did he tell her the same thing? Perhaps it was a lesson of the Port Mafia? Or maybe a lesson they both learned through their trials of life.

“If you focus too much on the disappointment and despair, then you will only be dooming Violet-san more. Even though this set back hurts, there is still a chance,” she murmured, eyes expressing wisdom far beyond her years.

“How…do you know for sure?” the words fell from his lips.

“Because we didn’t find her body, which means a part of her must still be holding on enough to warrant that person not killing her. Also,” Kyouka gazed into her tea, “Dazai-san is still here.

Huh? He blinked. The first part made sense in a morbid way. Violet knew their secrets – that fact being the major reason for her abduction. And while the blood and evidence of trauma sickened him to even recall, they only furthered the theory that the person who stole her away would not end her life without obtaining that information. She still held on somehow, but time was running thin.

That realization bringing clarity the latter half of her statement: Dazai recognized this before them. He remained in the Agency rather than slinking away to his apartment or another location. He remained focused because he knew.

And if he managed to hold faith in her survival and the prospect of saving her, then he could as well. After all, he had known his superior long enough to know that Dazai never committed to anything that held no chance of success.

“You’re right,” he sighed, pulling a smile onto his features as he met her eyes, “Thank you, Kyouka-chan.”

A small smile brightened her face as she held his gaze for a moment longer before finishing the rest of her tea in silence. When they both finished and paid, they ascended the stairs back to the Agency with renewed spirits.

While the pain from being unable to save her was a difficult burden, hope remained. They faced the same challenges as before, but they overcame those obstacles once already. They could do so again. They couldn’t accept failure again. They wouldn’t.

Determination lit their eyes as they entered the Agency and quickly fell back into looking for any and every clue they could – any vague sighting of the blonde or her abductor. Any slight hint or clue to give to Ranpo and his companion.

Atsushi cast a quick look at the detective. He seemed to take the miss the hardest. Was it because his timing was off? Or… Did he deduce something in the hideout? It made sense. He always managed to see beyond the surface – a trait he once found enviable but now pitied him for.

It was bad enough on the surface, he couldn’t imagine the horrid conclusions the young detective faced. Was he the only? No one else seemed to possess the caliber of his pained expression. Well, no one but the one his mentor so excellently hid behind his smile.

Curiosity warred with a small instinct to spare himself the horror – former prevailing as he needed any and all information, no matter how painful, to help find Violet. Mustering his strength, Atsushi took a breath before turning in the direction of his senior only for the question on his lips to lodge in his throat.

Dazai’s chair was empty.

Atsushi felt a wave of panic threaten to engulf him – one he miraculously managed to calm as he looked across the table and asked the person there in a voice he struggled to keep steady, “Kunikida-san, where did Dazai-san go?”

The blonde’s sharp eyes darted up instantaneously, briefly startling the teen only for him to click his tongue in irritation and close his laptop rather roughly, growling under his breath as he snatched an umbrella and headed toward the door, “I swear, I’m going to kill that waste of bandages…”

 

…

 

Even among the rain, the vivacity of Yokohama remained bright and unperturbed – moving on despite the clouds hanging above. A testimony of perseverance or maybe indifference to the problems plaguing the few? Or perhaps the city instinctively knew of the looming threat and chose to savor these times before they grew impossible.

One would never know, and if not for the steady drizzle he may have recorded these thoughts in his notebook and expand upon them. However, now was not the time. Not when a more pressing matter weighed on his shoulders and only worsened as he spotted that familiar mop of dark brown hair through the window of a rather vacant bar.

Wasting no time, Kunikida entered the establishment, doing his best not to disturb the citizens and tourists inside and hissing adamantly at his partner, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Running off; going out for a couple drinks while she’s still missing – when she’s in danger?! And here I didn’t think you could fall any lower!”

Dazai made no response, instead continuing to stare aimlessly into the amber liquid in his glass. The quiet only served to infuriate Kunikida further as he practically seethed.

“What? Are you just going to give up on her when she trusted us, trusted you to save her? Are you truly content in wasting time in a place like this while she suffers?!”

Once more, no response came. It drove him insane. Never before had he wanted to hear the nonsense fall from those lips. Say something – just say something already! His form trembled from the sheer anger, regret, and all of the mess of emotions tormenting him; tormenting the Agency.

Tormenting his partner whose silence hurt worse than any blade.

“Fine, fine! You…You can just stay here for all I care. Drink away everything. See if I care. I- I’m going to find her and bring her-”

“She was there….”

The red veil of anger dissipated at his soft, broken voice – all fury freezing over as he at last took in the man’s disheveled appearance. He looked terrible. Frankly they all did, but him most of all. Had he been eating? He couldn’t recall, but the reality of it all made him want to slap himself.

Of course. Out of all of them, he would be the one most devastated by all of this.

Especially as his words brought up the memory of that room. The one they entered and deemed empty all too soon. The one that, on their way out, grew larger. The one she was obviously being held in and concealed by an ability he was too far to touch and thus nullify. The one that would haunt them for years to come.

Quiet fell on him as he listened to the broken man continue, noting how his grip on the glass tightened shakily, “She was there when we broke into the hideout. Dostoevsky, he left behind her shoes – knew about that inspection. He predicted we’d see it and locate him right when she was at her breaking point. He wanted us to come – for her to see us walk right by. She was right there, and we missed it – I missed it. We could’ve saved her right there, gotten her to safety, out of that demon’s hands. But instead she-”

Dazai stopped, his features contorting in an agonized expression that could only be called regret. It took him aback. Never before had he seen such a look cross his features – and a part of him believed the bandaged man incapable of anything so serious. And yet now it was clear and raw and heartbreaking as it testified that despite his oddities, despite his ability’s name, Dazai Osamu was very much human.

A reality he appeared to loathe as he pulled a hand over his eyes and chuckled weakly – a broken attempt to fall back on old defense mechanisms that held no chance in helping anything now, let alone how shattered his voice felt as he rasped.

“I should have taken her hand. If only I didn’t hesitate that time, then she’d…!”

“She would have lost her arm or worse due to your ability nullifying that teleporting one when it already caught the majority of her,” Kunikida murmured soberly, sitting beside the man and taking a deep breath as if that could possibly diffuse the heaviness around them.

From his silence, he knew that the brunette fought from arguing against the virtue in salvaging a limb in favor of protecting the whole. Nevertheless, he relented, falling back into that wrenching silence.

Kunikida sighed, gazing up at the ceiling while speaking softly, “Regardless of what we wished we would have done in that moment, we cannot return to the past. We cannot change what already happened. All that is left is to make sure she does not have to suffer more than what we can prevent.”

No reply came, but he sensed something shift in the atmosphere. It did not suddenly become brighter or easier to breathe. Rather, a sense of companionship formed. That even in the midst of this terrible storm, he was not alone in his suffering. They all shared this burden.

Allowing himself to sit with his partner, Kunikida ordered a light drink and simply kept him company. For once he felt no irritation from the man’s presence whatsoever. Who could have guessed it would actually be…nice to sit with the man who terrorized him relentlessly every day?

A soft chuckle broke the quiet, prompting hazel eyes to swivel over where Dazai twirled the remnants of the whisky in his glass, an odd glint shining in his eyes as he murmured, “Who would have thought you’d make a pleasant drinking buddy. Perhaps I should invite you out more. Well, maybe once your tolerance improves a bit more – although a drunk Kunikida-kun is something I would not pass up.”

Kunikida scoffed, hiding his relief at the slow return of his typical tone and nature, “Not a chance. This is a one-time thing. Don’t expect it to ever happen again.”

“Oh? Is that a promise?” his carnelian eyes twinkled with a challenge and an odd nostalgia. Why? Had they been in this position before?

Pushing aside the question, Kunikida exhaled roughly through his nose, cracking open an eye as the brunette rose to his feet.

“What do you plan to do now?”

Dazai paused before giving a small smile, surprising Kunikida as he threw something onto the bar prior to turning and exiting with a wave, “I think it is a nice night to go for a stroll down memory lane, don’t you think?”

Notes:

I debated for the better part of 3 hours whether or not to post this considering I usually make it to where at least the next two chapters have rough drafts before posting the current chapter, but 60 is for the most part done and I just felt like whatever, why not.

Not to mention I'm going crazy cause mayoi updates tomorrow and I can't wait for the new Fyo SSR and saved up so much for him and ahhhh this game will ruin my life.

@uwuscope: Thank you c: And yes, it's one of the things that I'm 90% sure is his name and/or holds some significance to Dazai in the series since we still know nothing about his life prior to meeting Mori (well, aside from his suicidal tendencies that led him to the doctor in the first place and that he doesn't come from a notable family if I recall Fifteen mentioning correctly). All in all, I figured why not jump on the bandwagon and consider it his "real" name.

@Icecrweam: Well, technically Dazai's ability requires him to touch an ability/user to nullify the ability, so you're not completely wrong. Just that Gibroyedov's ability plays on the manipulation things that cannot necessarily be touched. If Dazai walked a bit further into the room and came in contact with the barrier he formed, then it would have been dissolved (something he realizes in this chapter albeit vaguely implied). Unfortunately, he didn't realize this until passing it later and recognizing the size of the room changed.
Aww thank you! Call it an unending obsession I'm actually surprised has lasted this long.

@seneca: I know and I felt horrible after all the comments for the ADA to save her only for me to shuffle in and throw this curve-ball in their face. If it makes you feel any better I teared up in writing it (which is probably one of the reasons the next few chapters take a step back from Violet's POV; although this one hardly helps as they're in a lot of pain as well).
Oh? Is that so? I actually took it from a character from Pandora Hearts (a wonderful series I 10/10 recommend and bawled over). Even then, while writing that bit I thought of whether or not that's Fyo's true goal as someone like him should see that as well. Makes you question what he's really after and what exactly he's been through if he truly believes that will solve everything.
Hmm, well I can't imagine he'd be overjoyed as the name is not one he chose to use. Not to mention a certain someone now knows it as well. Either way, I don't believe it is a particularly happy word for him.

Just a few more painful chapters and then we're done. Until next time~

Chapter 59: Breaking Point

Summary:

Finally breaking, so where are you now?

Notes:

Warnings: Strong suggestions of torture and abuse. This one is not a happy chapter at all.

Grey, glass-strewn floors crackled underfoot – sharp noise grating harshly in the heavy silence. He was not a proponent of the supernatural, of anything beyond that in front of his eyes and capable of being touched. Yet being here, walking these desolate halls, felt undeniably wrong for reasons he could not hope to find the words to explain.

Why was he here? Why did he willingly walk forward when his instincts screamed to get out? Almost as if they were trekking over solemn graves with calloused feet.

Footsteps slowed to a stop, leaving only his dully echoing in the grey halls. Why was he here? He met red-brown eyes once harrowed among the worst nightmares of Yokohama, now a haunting reflection of days he did not fully know were beyond them. Beyond them? No. He would never forget. It was impossible. Even if he were to become a normal human being, the crimes committed were too great.

Perhaps that was why he followed him into this desolate place.

They passed multiple doors and dark halls, one in particular drawing his attention as he lingered in the doorway. Like the rest, the dirty floor was strewn with small shards of rock and glass that glinted in the faint, flickering light. Stains scattered haphazardly around, sickening in their source and turning silver chains embedded in the wall a rusted bronze. His gaze flicked down, studying the darker mark coating the ground ominously beneath the abandoned shackles.

Faintly he could make out a small figure hunched over, searching for elusive rest he found himself praying she grasped.

Tearing away before he lost himself in the jarring memory left hanging in the air itself, he approached the other man patiently waiting in another doorway. This one was shrouded in shadows deeper than the others; its lights shattered and snuffed out.

“This is the first time in a while we’ve done some field work together, huh? When was the last time? Recon in Minatomirai?  An arms deal in Tsurumi?” his companion hummed far too casually than the situation demanded.

“Shioiri Park,” he corrected half-heartedly, recalling the snowy stretches stained red by their foe’s blood. It was the first time he witnessed first-hand Dazai’s capability for destruction – his capacity for cruel, tenacious strategy. Indeed, that day should have ended in their death, and yet against all odds they walked away while the ten who ambushed them lay motionless in the snow.

What couldn’t possibly be called a smile cracked his features as Dazai gazed up, eerily reminiscent of how he stared into the falling snow after their narrow victory, “Ahh, that’s right. It has been some time, huh?”

Deigning not to go further down that path, Ango stepped into the suffocating black. It was relentless, not giving an inch even as he blinked so as to adjust to the jarring difference. His steps fell cautiously, banking on the layout of other rooms to provide some vague direction. It appeared to work. That is, until his hand brushed against something cold.

“S-Stop!”

Her scream cut through the darkness, so sudden Ango staggered. He blinked rapidly, images of a young blonde bound to a chair, a knife impaling her right hand agonizingly, flashed around him. Multiple cuts and scrapes marred her features, blood practically coating her from head to toe.

Well, at least every part of her that wasn’t shrouded over by the tall, lean figure perched above her – his dark cloak covering them like a makeshift blanket. He couldn’t see his features, but the sheer malice radiating off of him spoke clear enough to keep his distance even within this memory.

Indeed, his drawl voice sent alarms off in his mind. Or perhaps that was due to the jumbled screams and voices echoing as the sheer torment of the memory assaulted his consciousness, abruptly coming to a stop at the man’s words.

“Salvation lies in what is ahead…”

Pain pressed against his knees and shins, the ground somehow coming up to meet them. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

Haggard breaths left his throat, form trembling. That was… That was a memory, one so potent he didn’t have a chance to stall his ability. How long ago was it? He cast a fleeting glance at the chair as if wary its mere presence would bring more tormenting memories to the forefront of his mind. Vaguely he felt carnelian eyes pierce him, but he relented until catching his breath to address them.

“This was where Violet Fitzgerald was held and tortured,” he grimly stated more than asked. A shadow crossed Dazai’s eyes as he grimaced and asked quietly after a moment’s consideration, “Are you sure you want to know exactly what happened?”

Something barely discernable as a bitter smile stretched Dazai’s lips, “The enemy we face can be spared no such luxuries. Every detail counts.” A small pause lingered between them; as if the bandaged man felt his concern, he added in a murmur, “The only way we can prevent her from facing more of this pain is to locate Dostoevsky – and the best chance we have of that is through the information we gain via your ability.”

Ango held his gaze for a moment longer before turning and sighing. He understood his urgency even if he felt sorry for the younger man. This was a horrible situation, and to think the person who forced him into it held that young woman… He suppressed a shudder, knowing full well the extent of danger she was in.

After all, anyone who could play on level ground with the infamous Demon Prodigy was not one to take lightly.

Still, he inspected the room – his eyes now adjusted to make out the worn, bloodied chair he bumped into, a puddle with a wire on the far wall, and in the corner… Was that a coffin? Without needing to activate his ability, the special agent shuddered at the implications. Whatever awaited him – whatever she went through – it was far from good.

He took a couple of steps toward the coffin, feeling as if it held perhaps the less surprising atrocity of everything in the room. Be that as it may, he hesitated before closing the distance with the battered wood, keen eyes noting the scratches in the lid and ears already picking up the echoes of her torment.

A nagging question rose and passed his lips, “Before we go any further, answer me this one question Dazai-kun. Who exactly is Violet Fitzgerald?”

In his companion’s quiet, he furthered with a frown, “Prior to joining you, I took it upon myself to see who exactly it was the Agency was going through such extents to rescue – someone who, evidently, they did just as well hiding. None of the databases I accessed mentioned anything aside from the basics of that woman; even those refraining from identifying her ability. More concerning, however, is the fact that those records did not exist until a few months ago when you presumably found her and created the base of her file.”

Turning, he leveled a steely gaze at the brunette, “Putting aside the show of distrust, tell me this: Is Violet Fitzgerald someone the Special Ability Department should keep an eye on?”

Dazai held his gaze evenly for a few moments before smiling wryly, “Are you alright Ango? I thought you said only one question, but you’ve clearly asked two right now.”

Seeing his frown, the brunette chuckled while adding, “Well, that aside. Who is Violet-chan and why do records of her existence only span for a few months? Hmm… I suppose she may simply be an angel from above.”

The man smiled, and after a few seconds of silence Ango sighed, recognizing he would not get more from the bandaged agent now. Nevertheless, his frown remained. Especially as that brief glimpse of the man towering over Violet gave enough indication of her tormentor’s identity.

Fyodor Dostoevsky. But why was that Russian ability user here? When did he get here? Nothing triggered their systems, something that almost made him shudder at how easily he came to this country. Not to mention his selection of targets – Violet being an ideal one given her lack of citizenship or even existence. Nothing he did to her would cause any international conflict. Whereas if they tried to fight him…

Ango grimaced. It was a dismal situation – one both men knew clear well he could not stick his head into any further without a solid connection between the blonde and some nationality. Be that as it may, another chilling fact pushed that dilemma away.

Both Dostoevsky and this woman, they possessed unknown abilities – ones that prompted far too many questions to bode well.

Ones he made mental note to investigate further – something that grew more realistic thanks to what he would discover in the remnants of Violet’s memories. How odd… Did Dazai see this? A foolish question. Of course he did, which meant he too harbored questions about the two and their abilities.

Yet another reason why he couldn’t back down even though a piece of him screamed to run from the nightmare. Ango sighed, taking a deep breath before letting his fingers brush the piece of fabric on the floor – one undoubtedly belonging to that tattered dress she wore. A familiar sensation ran through his veins, distorting his surroundings into a not too distant past.

Ragged coughs echoed in the room, prompting Ango to snap his head where the coffin lay – this time its shape outlined in the faint glow of his ability that formed two figures: Dostoevsky looming above with an unreadable expression and Violet below taking in laborious breaths from where she curled inside the wooden case.

After a moment, the man lowered himself to sit on the edge of the coffin, one leg folded under him in a casual manner as the other tapped a nameless rhythm into the wood. He felt her dread war with that small, tenacious hope to keep going – her faith in Dazai and the others staggering even in its weariness. How did she manage to hold onto it for so long? Sure, it was battered from that turmoil, but it was as if every time she confronted Dostoevsky, it returned.

Almost as if his presence gave her the will to fight back. How ironic given his intent to break that very spirit.

After a few minutes of tapping, when Violet’s breathing managed a slightly more stable tempo, the dark-haired man spoke, “I must admit you are quite the tenacious one. Is this what they call the prophet’s hope?”

Wearily, as if using up the already dismal amount of energy she had left, Violet cracked open an eye. Its lack of vivacity and sheer exhaustion stunned him. How was she holding on after all of this?

“Hope?” Dostoevsky’s words echoed his thoughts in a startling manner, one that grew ominous as a dark grin appeared on the man’s features, “No. Not hope. Despair.”

What? Ango’s confusion melted with the blonde’s as the man clarified, “Hope is a force of action, one whose very nature is that of change. Something you fear most of all. Indeed, that fear promotes stagnation, and, in turn, the snares of despair. You wish to protect the status quo – to stop time.”

The agent steeled his expression, keeping himself from absorbing too much of the villain’s philosophy. A feat Violet’s weary mind held no chance of replicating as doubt and confusion warred within her olive eyes. She was so vulnerable to his suggestions, so susceptible to his feints and prompts. A horrid reality that built since the moment he entered her memories became undeniable.

From the very start, she stood no chance against him.

Something she appeared to come to realize as tears streaked down her cheeks – ones he couldn’t discern if they came from suffocating or the despair Dostoevsky twisted her resolve into as he continued, “Unfortunately, time waits for no one. You and I are no exceptions to this law, and so long as that remains true, there can only be one outcome of this.”

He leaned down, fingers curling under her chin and pulling her gaze to meet those vibrant eyes that narrowed dangerously, “Despair cannot prevail over hope, my dear. It will forever be overtaken; its only option for survival is to rid itself of those fears and move lest it shatter apart completely.”

Words that obviously held second meanings lost as her emotions surged once more – barrage of memories screaming in his head; her despair pinnacling at the horrid sight of the Agency members standing feet away but being unable to see them because of a faceless ability user from a moonlit clearing. Raw sorrow, torment, fear, agony… It all expanded detrimentally, leaving Violet screaming until her throat felt raw.

She reached her breaking point – something detrimental to her unknown witness as those feelings spiked and transcended into the present. Indeed, they were so potent he felt himself tremble precariously, stomach churning while his throat began to burn. Everything seemed to culminate as echoes of her memories converged, abruptly ending as Dostoevsky’s icy voice cut through the chaos.

“Shatter and split Violet.”

Ango gasped violently, barely managing to turn away from Dazai and puke in the other direction. Silence filled the room, only broken by his choked gasps. His form trembled precariously, and if he wasn’t careful he’d pass out.

How in the world did she survive that horrendous torment?

Graciously, Dazai waited for his breathing to steady out before asking solemnly, “What was the last thing you saw?”

The agent breathed deeply, focusing on the barrage of images and allowing them to trickle back – this time their potency diluted from knowing what was coming. It was still jarring, hearing her screams and cries, but Ango was able to pick through it – finding the faded memory that marked the end. Its blurriness spoke nothing good, but at least it provided something.

Hopefully enough for Dazai to pull off another miraculous turn around like he did that snowy day.

“A tunnel…” he rasped, straightening up and pushing his glasses back into place to meet his gaze wearily, “She’s being carried in some underground tunnel. By the looks of it, I’d guess someplace outside the city. Another mine maybe…? I don’t know. Everything was blurry, like she was drugged.”

He sighed, briefly breaking eye contact before once again meeting those steely eyes. Almost as if he was trying to protect himself from the horrors he knew he witnessed – ones he more than likely only confirmed for the brunette. It twisted his heart. He came here to help the man, yet it seemed as if he only made his pain worse.

Indeed, he hated the way his voice wavered as he finished soberly, “Dazai-kun, I know that you will be able to find her, but from what I saw – what she’s been through and her mental state right now…”

Ango grimaced, forcing the final words out even as they hurt him to murmur, “It may already be too late to save her…”

His heart pounded painfully as Dazai’s expression remained calm even as his gaze grew icy. For a moment he expected the man to lash out; his fingers twitching should he need to protect himself. In the end, nothing of the sort occurred. It pained him almost as much as he felt relieved.

A fleeting feeling as Dazai turned and approached the doorway, glancing back at him with a hallow smile as he held his phone up, “Yeah, I know. Which is why, this time, I’m pulling out all the stops.”

Ango’s expression twisted grimly as the detective continued forward, pressing a button and initiating a call. Words echoed in the halls, but were soon lost on him as Ango gazed over the broken room. A weary sigh left his lips as he pulled out his own mobile device and clicked the first button, speed dialing the number of someone who needed to know what transpired.

“Ango-kun? Calling about your surprise dinner date?”

“Yes,” he replied with a semblance of his usual formality drowned in exhaustion.

Immediately picking up on it, the other line asked in concern, “What happened?”

“I will brief you when I return, Chief Taneada. But for now,” he frowned at the remains, echoes of that horrid torment surrounding him and threatening to devour him as he pulled away from the room, “I believe we may need to reassess Violet Fitzgerald’s file.”

 

…

 

Footsteps echoed in the dark tunnels, leaving a scarlet path in their wake. Traces of blood clung to his boots, evidence of his mercy. The two guards served their purpose wonderfully. It was only right of him to grant them salvation in the end. If they were to walk away from this, then his plan would certainly be ruined. Their deaths paved the way toward a better future.

The key to which he cradled in his arms, her golden-green eyes clouded with remnants of poison running through her veins and transforming her skin into beautiful porcelain.

Giggles resounded from the shadows, no doubt coming from his whimsical ally who helped in erasing their trail. Indeed, he caught flashes of gaudy color teasing the corners of his sight, all but proving his presence. Ironic given his ability to disappear at a moment’s notice. Nevertheless, he opted to ignore him for the time being.

Much more seminal matters called for his attention.

He nudged open the door with his shoulder, carefully maneuvering around it and softly tapping his foot against the worn wood to close it once more. Darkness only broken by the amber glow of a few candle flames enveloped them, and yet to the eyes of a being dwelling in the underground for countless days it appeared nothing more than an overcast shroud. A small, quaint room greeted them – its contents relatively sparse and void of personality aside from a couple of books topped by a stack of papers.

Singed edges stood out starkly against the off white material.

As if handling fragile glass that would break from a harsh breeze, he lowered the figure onto the bed, shifting to sit beside her and comb his fingers through soft golden hair. A few knots tugged back, but they promptly disappeared after a few moments of careful attention. The action felt soothing, like letting his hand feel the pull of a stream. His mind found subtle rest, allowing the rhythmic motions to sway it away from the plans and information swarming it like a cloud of wasps.

Soft groans rose from delicate lips, drawing his attention where she began squirming, her features scrunching in effort to shake off the clouds in her consciousness. Ahh, so she regained some motor control… Not as quick as the previous time, but still admirable considering her lack of experience with drugs and toxins. Perhaps she held a unique gift of healing – one that stalled even his judgement. She endured enough to send most battle hardened soldiers into an asylum.

Could there be more to this flower than any of them imagined?

A grin tugged up his lips as he shifted over so his knees pressed against either side of her, reaching to weave their fingers together as he pulled her hands above her head. He felt her stiffen, eyes still a bit hazy yet now wide in apprehension that chilled her raspy voice, “W-What are you-?!”

He chuckled, leaning closer so the tips of his hair melted into hers, rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb, “You know, most would die merely standing in the presence of God. Yet here you are, so close and yet you still draw breath – your heart beats onward. How interesting…” he dipped his head, letting his lips brush just beneath her ear, “How much more will you be able to take before you crumble into dust, I wonder?”

“No!” she gasped, thrashing against him and vainly attempting to buck him off. Perhaps if this had occurred during an earlier date she would have fared better. But days without proper nutrition and torturous treatment left her lean and weak even against his thin stature. Seeing her attempt nonetheless drew an amused simper from his lips.

“Stop, p-please..!” she begged, shrinking as much as she could away from him yet gaining little. Tears shone like dew drops on her lashes, catching the dying embers of melted candles glowing by the far wall.

Her breath hiccupped, tension lowering a fraction as he pulled back, bringing their hands with him, turning them so his lips brushed over her battered skin. Through it all he kept his gaze locked with her wide eyes, “Of course. I would be more than happy to oblige. That is…” he tilted his head and smirked against the back of her hand, “If there was some other interesting thing you wished to reveal. Perhaps something entailing a dear common friend of ours…”

She stiffened, tears rolling down her cheeks. He watched as morals warred in those golden depths, struggling against confessing to save herself and withholding to protect the man she cared for deeply enough to be called love. Love…huh? Something so akin to fire, burning, scorching all who touched it yet attracting them like moths. It went against all logic and brought down many a great man and woman.

He abhorred it, and yet…

The hand keeping her other above her head pulled away to caress her cheek, relishing in the warmth of her skin – her mere breath against his palm. Her heart beating furiously against his. So strong in her weak form. So alive.

Just how long would this tiny flame last, he wondered?

“Your choice…” he whispered.

Her form trembled, weight of her decision clear. Would she finally break? He did not initially intend to go this far, yet if it granted him the information he craved then it was worth it. After all, were sacrifices not mandatory for the greater good? Was her free will not still intact? Such beauty, the human soul in the midst of tragedy... How would she dance? What wonders would she perform for him?

She released a muffled whimper, biting her lips as she pressed her head into the mattress – olive eyes scrunching shut. Her answer was clear. It irritated him, her boundless resilience and unfathomable loyalty to that man. Imagine if such a strong link existed between the two of them… He would be able to accomplish the unthinkable. Alas, the connection between them was already forged and tried, and yet… A wicked smile stretched his lips as he dipped to press them along her neck.

How thrilling it was to tear that bond apart.

Notes:

Guess who's over the moon about getting that Fyo SSR in the first step when mayoi had the gall to give me a red moon. Either way, it can be safe to assume I have spent way too much time playing this game and now have the overwhelming urge to write another work based off of the event.

Anyways, updates after this are probably going to fall back into the normal order with finals coming up. Hope you all enjoyed this run of random updates.

@seneca: Haha well it does indicate something but I don't think it is what you are thinking; more of a nod to what I envision their relationship as partners to be like and what it echoes from Dazai's past.
Heh, I now feel kinda terrible after saying that given what happens in this chapter. I suppose it is technically not Violet's POV, but still not cheery in the least.
Yay and correct! Pandora Hearts holds a special place in my heart because the story was just so beautiful alongside the characters that tore my heart in pieces. Yes, Oz is a precious child I relate to so much ♥
Well, my JP account got lost a while ago due to the update thing so I'm mainly on Tales which is where I got that splendid Halloween Fyo SSR and immediately upgraded for the special pic. Aww, well if you ever find a way to come back I will be happy to share my ID for Tales c:
Haha happy to help provide those lovely distraction breaks that will become my best friend this week.

@Catami: Yes, yes. October is out to kill me but it is almost over so thank goodness for that. Haha well, I am proud of you for being responsible c:
Right? The more I write him and the more I read other fics about him, the more I find myself relating to him or at the very least understanding him. It is interesting to say the least since I very much know he is not a good person in the series, but find that grey Asagiri-sensei so excellently creates around him captivating. Lol, as much as it would be interesting to see that, Violet will not become a rat in this series, although there are times where she comes close. But that's far ahead from now.
Right? It hurts so much to write him in this arc because of that one line he said in Dark Era about not being able to hold onto anything and a demon I very much believe he struggles with.

@Trancypancy: Yes, yes they very much do and will eventually get in time. And aww, thank you ♥

@uwuscope: Yep, gotta love the build up to the climax. It certainly is fun to write~

@Chiara: Aww, yeah I know it is a rough arc to say the least and while the reunion is still a bit of a ways away, I hope it will be satisfying when it comes c:

Until next time~

Chapter 60: Fruit of Eden

Summary:

Those that know the most must mourn the deepest; the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions of non con at the end. Once more, nothing explicit but if you are sensitive please pass it.

Birds chirped in the early morning light; traces of a grey dawn filtering through the trees and casting a peaceful melancholy on the worn building resting on the outskirts of Yokohama. At first glance, it reminded him of that asylum during the Azure Messenger incident, but upon further inspection it was quite different – holding onto its former appearance rather well while not yet overrun by plant life and decay. Be that as it may, all signs pointed to that future as his eyes caught a few small, dark forms dart in and out.

With any luck, there would be a few rats among them.

Atsushi exhaled. As much as a part of him did not want to venture into another dead-end hideout, they needed this – needed to find something, anything. They were running out of clues, something that didn’t bode well at all. Before… Before, that man left them a sign (even if it ultimately worked against them), but now…

There was nothing. Not a speck or breadcrumb in sight. Almost as if he no longer wanted them to be found. A chilling reality with an even worse implication. After all, if that person did not want to be located, then that could only mean…

No. He shook his head. He couldn’t go down that road again. It would only lead to despair and dead-ends – things they couldn’t afford. They needed to focus. Find and report every detail they discovered to Ranpo. That was their only hope now. They needed any and all leads they could find; and hope and pray that this time that person actually made a misstep.

Such a feat… Could he afford to believe it possible?

Bushes rustled from the left, lodging a gasp in his throat as he reflexively tensed. Had they been found out? How? He shot a glance where Tanizaki crouched beside him, features just as grim as his while keeping his ability surrounding them. The side effect of creating snow particles was a bit showy, but even then they were a good ways away from the hideout.

No. He willed his right arm to transform into the tiger’s paw, giving a small nod to the ginger before slinking forward. Whatever the case, they could deal with this – silence whoever it was before they could sound the alert. This mission was not compromised just yet.

With each passing second, the rustling drew closer in beat with his nerves rising. Atsushi breathed steadily, focusing on the source. He just needed to silence them in one precise blow. Focus. Focus…

Suddenly a figure exploded from the brush – a person clad in rather worn clothes and charging in their direction. Whether he saw them or not was a question he could wait until later to ask. Right now, all he needed to do was-

Without warning, a small figure pounced on him from above, quickly and efficiently slamming him into the ground with a precision that knocked out the person. It was startling, enough to at last tear the gasp from their throats as the two blinked at the attacker.

“K-Kyouka-chan?” Atsushi stammered, blinking as the young girl lifted her head in beat with Tanizaki allowing his ability to take her in as well.

“The patrol schedule mentioned this area in the hideout, so I came back to stop them. This one ran away while I took out the other three,” she responded matter-of-factly.

Her complacency in reporting such matters was admirable if not a tad unnerving. Was it a product of her time in Port Mafia? They certainly lent her an impressive degree of stealth – one of the main reasons she was selected for these missions. Still, even knowing this failed to ease the perturbed notes in their expressions as they regarded the young girl.

“So you made it inside?” Tanizaki asked, voice gradually regaining its former composure, “Did you find anything? Was Violet-san-?”

Before the words could pass his lips, a deafening explosion shook the area; sending violent gales that tore at the trees and foliage around them. Instantly all of the nerves he managed to subdue became alit with energy – fur on his arm bristling in alarm. The direction of the blast… It couldn’t be…!

In a flash, Atsushi transformed his legs and leapt high into the air – easily clearing the canopy above. Dichromatic eyes swiftly located the source: a sight that froze his blood. The hideout, or rather where the hideout was moments ago, now stood among a column of smoke and flames that devoured everything inside. All that evidence, all those hints… And maybe even…!

Atsushi bit his lip, forcing away the thought as he landed beside his companions, ready to dart in before a small hand swiftly grabbed his shirt, directing his attention to calm blue-grey eyes, “She is not inside.”

“Huh?” he blinked, fur still bristling in apprehension.

“There was no sign of the mastermind or Violet-san inside that place. It must be another decoy spot,” Kyouka reasoned evenly.

“No. They were definitely there before.”

The trio blinked, attention collecting where Tanizaki held his phone – screen displaying a rather grim looking Ranpo. His typical loose attire bore signs of neglect. Not surprising given his invigorated attention after their despairing return. He had been correct in his deduction at that time.

But the miss in timing evidently took a toll on him, one that drove him to this current state where he barely paused to have a break.

“Ranpo-san, what do you mean?” Tanizaki frowned, “The other hideouts held explosives as well, what makes this one dif-?”

“Because he blew it up before you had the chance to thoroughly investigate anything,” the detective snapped, startling his young peer.

“W-Well at the very least Violet-san was not inside,” Atsushi meekly spoke up, attempting to salvage something from the incident.

It appeared his words only infuriated Ranpo further as he practically seethed, “Yes, that’s amazing news. If only it saved all of the evidence inside that building that is now up in flames – evidence I need so that she is not the one burning to ash if we don’t find her in time!”

Atsushi and Tanizaki flinched as silence descended on them, no words spoken in fear of making this matter worse. Indeed, neither expected such a vehement reaction. It proved how worn the young detective was while at the same time doing no favors for them. After all, if Ranpo was this worked up, did it not mean that time was almost up? Were they going to be too late once more?

“I was able to get a quick look of the inside earlier. There may be something you can use,” Kyouka informed, earning a frown from the detective.

“And how good is your memory exactly? I’ll need every detail in perfect account. Any alteration will be detrimental.”

“I remember everything clearly. This is not the first time I have been required to memorize my surroundings on short notice.”

Ranpo remained quiet, contemplating things before growling, “Tanizaki, give her the phone.” The named blinked before complying, as the detective’s voice grew subtler as Kyouka held the device up to her ear, “Now, tell me everything you remember, and don’t leave any detail out.”

Watching as the young girl began recounting what she witnessed, Atsushi exhaled deeply. He cast a glance up at the growing pillar of smoke that began blotting out the sun. An ominous sign if he ever saw one. One he prayed did not foretell their future as they turned and began making their way back.

Hopefully Kunikida and the others fared better than them. Yes.  They had to. After all, he appeared in more hopeful spirits when he returned last night. Sure, Dazai was still nowhere to be found, but if his partner came back without concern it had to mean something good. Yes. He would have a lead. He had to. Indeed, when they passed through those doors, Dazai would certainly present them a miraculous solution only someone like him could surmise.

How true those thoughts rang as he opened the door to be met with a sight he considered impossible outside his nightmares.

Two black clad figures stood beside the table Ranpo and Poe collected the majority of their leads and information. If he did not know any better, he’d assume them to be a pair of inconspicuous people, perhaps clients asking for help. Unfortunately, he and his companions knew them all too well, especially as those icy grey eyes snapped his way the moment they opened the door.

“Akutagawa?!” Atsushi bristled, his animosity reflected perfectly in the named as his glare hardened.

Beside him, Higuchi scowled with an ounce of the antipathy of her superior, “Man-tiger…!”

Tension skyrocketed as the two sides stared at each other, waiting for the other to flinch and set of an explosive reaction with deadly consequences. He felt Tanizaki and Kyouka shift beside him in the same heightened pressure that bore down on him – the same question burning in their minds.

Why were two Port Mafia members in the Agency? Did they attack while they were away? But there was no signs of conflict. Perhaps they were blackmailing them? And at no worse time. Atsushi scowled deeply, resentment building with each second until a voice cut through it rather in a rather exasperated manner.

“Poe, Ranpo,” Ranpo growled, gesturing to his companion and himself with an irritated glance their way, “Now if we’re done with stating the obvious, can we continue where we left off?”

Huh? The trio blinked, watching dumbfounded as Akutagawa held his glare a second longer before turning back to the table with a small huff. What? Atsushi couldn’t believe his eyes or ears or anything as the black mafioso conversed with the two detectives like it was nothing – like they weren’t just on opposite ends of a war a mere week or two ago. That’s it. This was a dream. He had to be dreaming. There was no way-!

A hand reached out and pulled him to the side, action accompanied by a voice growling, “Quit standing around and get over here!”

Atsushi flinched, meeting Kunikida’s stern glare as he tugged him to his desk – Tanizaki and Kyouka following after a final tentative glance at their odd guests. However, before any of them could speak, Yosano approached from her infirmary and clarified.

“We must be pretty desperate to call in help from Port Mafia. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact I knew it was Dazai who made the call, I’d reject the notion on principle,” she sighed, plopping into the named’s seat; action at last registering something in the young teen’s mind that his mentor was not among the figures in the room. Where was he? Still out? Or…

Could he be meeting with the Mafia Boss?

A shiver trailed down his spine as Kunikida, evidently reading his expression, spoke up, “Regardless of his experience inside and outside of the Mafia, it does not make this a good idea. Still, I suppose if anyone was aware of the risks it would be him. Even then,” the blonde shot a sullen glare at the two, “Picking Akutagawa of all people and leaving before they even arrived… If anything happens, I’ll be sure to put the expenses on his tab.”

“Dazai-san left?” Tanizaki echoed with a nervous glance at the pair; his unease shared by all in the room. Indeed, if anyone was capable of controlling the movements of Port Mafia, of Akutagawa, it was the bandaged detective.

“Yeah, he said something about making preparations or whatnot,” Yosano replied, adding grimly, “Alongside a rather poorly written note about our two visitors who did us the favor in filling in the gaps for him.”

“And what would that be?” Atsushi asked, careful to keep his voice low.

Shame it was already too late as the young doctor’s response was interrupted by Higuchi speaking up in a slightly annoyed manner, “We are cooperating with the Detective Agency under the same agreement we made during the Guild’s attack.”

The weretiger tensed, once more facing those horrible implications. His first instinct was to object – to proclaim they would find Violet without their aid. After all, they were detectives. Finding people was their job. And yet… Could they afford this stubborn pride? Dazai evidently thought otherwise. Indeed, he could practically hear his mentor reasoning that although the risk was high, at the very least it improved Violet’s chances of survival.

And at this point, simply seeing the young blonde alive and away from the torment she drowned in was enough for them.

“Now,” he glanced up, meeting Higuchi’s red gaze once more as she continued, “If you would be so kind as to come over here, Akutagawa-senpai’s information has helped your detective pinpoint a few probable hideouts.”

His heart skipped a beat, hope growing as he noted Ranpo and Poe adamantly working on the map once more – echoing their previous revelation with newfound vigor. Indeed, if the information Port Mafia gave them was as strong as their reputation for getting it was, then they held some chance. Sure, they still needed a miracle to pull this off, but knowing that someone was working on their side in the background was a great relief.

Casting a final look among his companions, Atsushi rose and approached the table with them. In a matter of minutes, they secured a location and, not a second later, a call from Dazai. Things were falling into place, but they needed to act fast and efficiently before the mastermind noticed and hid in a different hole. No. Atsushi shook his head as they began walking out of the Agency.

This time, they were going to bring Violet home; if not, they no longer deserved to be called a detective agency.

 

…

 

“How rare for you to reveal such passion. Is that woman truly so remarkable?”

Fyodor paused in the doorway, his eyes swiveling from the unkempt, humble bed to a small, amused smile stretching the lips of a long haired man leaning on the opposite wall. His gait was relaxed yet respectful, straight enough that he showed no ill will yet loose in indication of a loyal companion. It was an odd sight, especially considering who he addressed.

Not many lived to recall such memories in his presence.

A smile formed on his face as he carefully closed the door, letting what an old, off-white cloak covered disappear into the black. He ran a hand through his messy hair, combing it back to a faint semblance of its former self. Not like he cared to hide anything from the man. Indeed, with a simple flick of his wrist he could erase any evidence of what occurred. But he need not bother.

Ivan Goncharov was a loyal subject, one he made certain was impossible to betray him as evidenced by the bandages peering through his light hair.

“Should you not be in bed? Your recovery thus far will mean nothing if you keep wandering about,” he chided lightly.

“Of course, and I was until the beautiful melody of my master’s passion drifted into my ears. Can you blame me for wanting to hear it all? To simply listen to my master’s wonderful bliss?” Ivan sighed contently, his smile never fading even with the underlying knowledge of what prompted such sounds.

Fyodor leveled a wry smirk, not sure how to take the fact that the man found such joy in what would burn the common man’s face with raw embarrassment. He supposed after altering his consciousness to a more…blissful state it should be expected. But to think it’d go this far… He’d surely lose his mind in due time. But that didn’t matter.

So long as he stayed alive until that point, he could amuse himself in whatever he saw fit.

“Bliss, huh? Do you think of it as that?”

“Eh? Well yes,” his smile remained even as he tilted his head in a play on confusion, “It did not sound like a ruse to me. Surely it must be because of that woman, the one you have been keeping close and speaking with almost every hour now.”

So he noticed, huh? Fyodor exhaled calmly and let his eyelids give into heavy warmth pulling at them, “You think so? Well, I’ve never said that passion and pleasure are foreign things to me. Even God knows the full extent of such things – He created them. Most simply are not aware or choose to view other things of a deity aside from his capacity for intimacy.”

Ivan blinked, smile almost comical in that moment as he commented lightly, “I see; you are very much full of mysteries.”

His eyes gazed beyond the dark-haired man, almost as if peering through the closed door to where a head of golden locks fanned out like a broken halo around the figure within. His lips stretched further upon his conjecture, “Perhaps that woman is similar in that regard. Is she another sinner immune to your judgement? Or maybe an angel led astray by the world above?”

Fyodor opened his eyes to mere slits, finding amusement in the odd comparison between them. They were alike? She was immune to his judgement? An angel? Perhaps. Be that as it may…

“She stands apart from the rest in more ways than one could ever imagine,” he responded softly, at last moving forward and past the man, “Perhaps I have at last found a suitable candidate to walk alongside me on this path…”

Walk by his side…huh? The mere idea brought a mix of emotions he’d long since forgotten, or rather discarded for the greater good. God had no need for trivial things such as companions and lovers. He was above them, and yet…

Fyodor let his smile fade, focusing on the task at hand. His will was strong, his mind clear. She was merely a means to an end. An interesting book to pass time with however he pleased. Her resistance came as a surprise, but it did not cover over her sin. Yes. She was still a sinner, one in need of salvation.

Salvation his heart leapt at the chance to witness.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” came Ivan’s distant question.

A twisted expression barely recognizable as a smirk cut across his face, violet eyes glinting icily beneath dark lashes as he kept his gaze forward. Did he find what he sought? What a simpleminded question. One whose answer spanned farther than words could attempt to capture.

Yet they fell all the same, like dying stars from heaven as Fyodor murmured, “The fruit of Eden is truly remarkable, huh?”

Notes:

Writer's block is hitting hard and by some miracle I managed to squeeze out this chapter. Sorry if it's not the most interesting and fluid and if my discomfort of Ivan was too obvious (intensely happy people unnerve me for reasons I can't begin to explain). Ideally it will go away before next week.

At any rate, we're almost there my dears. Just a couple more painful chapters and we'll be done.

@Delasera: Thank you~ Heh well you're not wrong, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't at least a bit painful for me to write some of these scenes. Yes, fluff is a need that is coming in the future - just need to get past these next couple of chapters and things will get a bit easier.

@Chiara: Ango is such a sweetie and I feel terrible for him but yes his ability adds a nice twist to things. Ahh yes Dazai is certainly not doing very well and running on a sort of auto-pilot, which honestly hurts me just as if not more than writing Violet's torture. But deep breaths, deep breaths. This nightmare of an arc is close to ending at long last.

@Sian: Aww thank you, and I feel your pain as it is very much hard to write. Yes, that will be the other difficult thing ahead of us as they pick up the pieces, but rest assured it will ideally be easier than this now.

@MisuSan: Very much so as the climax for this arc happens in the next chapter so we are very close. Yes, yes the end of this part of the series is drawing near and leaves quite a bit unanswered. Rest assured though that a good chunk will be addressed in the second part~

@Fwienddi: Oh wow that's a really nice compliment, thank you very much ♥
Yes, she does resemble him quite a bit, huh? And considering how she arrived in this world they could be considered the same. Be that as it may, the differences are what define them. Still, it is an interesting idea to have someone written into reality where they believe everything they see is some fiction from another world only to realize that world is the fake one. Definitely plays on the psyche of a person - something that interests me very much.
As for the timeline itself, well it cannot be completely aligned with canon anymore but that all depends on what is done with the information gained. Be that as it may, that doesn't necessarily mean Sigma, along with other characters, will not cross paths with Violet and the others.

Thank you all for the lovely words, until next time~

Chapter 61: Illusions of Reality

Summary:

Press forward into the dark.

Scratches from a worn, striped quill formed from the feather of an osprey of his homeland grated against the silence. A lantern cast a warm amber glow over the table, granting just enough light to write in the worn journal without needed to strain his eyes. The stale, damp air, typically so familiar to him, now felt rather chilly; an odd sensation with a clear answer as his free hand lazily combed through soft, golden locks.

A small smile graced his features as Fyodor finished the final few words and took a breath; closing the quaint book and placing his quill on top with a rather elegant delicacy. Once done, he allowed himself to settle back in the chair and mull over the most recent tale that echoed in the heart of the mountain they resided in. It truly was an interesting one like the others.

One that spoke of three wayward friends and a tragedy that would tear them apart and set their fates in motion.

His lips curled at what he learned. To think that man changed his path for such a sentimental reason as that… It truly was intriguing like the other tales concerning his former and current coworkers. Each brought a different piece, a new viewpoint with which he could pry and push at to his heart’s content. He knew that this information would be helpful, but never could he have imagined the depths of it even as some details remained shrouded.

Violet eyes dipped down to where his lovely storyteller was draped across his leg, golden gaze stoic and staring into the darkness without a speck of will. No. His eyes narrowed as he curled his fingers beneath her chin and tilted those eyes up to meet his. While they were indeed vacant and void of that former flare, the light had not yet died.

Indeed, a small spark remained – one that somehow survived and stood stubbornly against him; clouding over fine details and, in some instances, resisting his suggestions. Almost as if her very subconsciousness was fighting against him with vague mentions of the future whenever he inquired of those events with additional pressure or tried to probe further into what she knew of the others’ pasts.

A chuckle left his lips as Fyodor regarded this resilient flower whose beauty only seemed to grow in the wake of tragedy. Indeed, somehow she transformed into a symbol of humanity’s suffering – of selfless will to sacrifice it all for the sake of others. Utterly breathtaking… She would certainly remain in his memory until the day he drew his last breath. As for now…

He glanced up, mind running countless calculations in the span of seconds and creating flashes in his dark eyes. Right now…yes. It was about time for that to begin. A smirk grew on his features as he pulled the young blonde to sit between his legs. At the very least, he gathered enough to provide salvation to all of the sinners in his way.

Leaning forward, he pressed his nose into the crown of her hair – relishing in the soft lavender scent even as its owner’s weak groan as her shifting in his arms prompted a rather disquieting curiosity.

Why? He gazed down on her through half-lidded eyes, keeping his cheek pressed into her hair while a hand trailed beneath the old, off-white cloak he wrapped her in to brush against familiar marks engraved upon her leg. The cold rush of his ability flowed through his fingertips, ravenous for the life of this pretty sinner yet ultimately dispersing into a lukewarm sensation that was both alarming and intriguing. Why was his judgement being stalled? Was her will stronger than his? Or…

“Tell me, my dear,” he murmured, tightening his grip around her waist as he asked lowly, “What is your crime?”

“Crime…?” her soft voice rasped as she tilted her head, considering his words and their meaning. He watched in silence as thoughts trickled through those olive eyes, swirling with confusion; coming to an answer before he could nudge her in the right direction.

“N-No…” she shook her head to his frown, “I… I am not an ability user…”

“Oh?” he lifted his head and cocked a brow, “Then what exactly are these lovely pictures and tales you create?”

“I… I don’t know…"

Tremors rose along her frame, testifying to the weight of this mystery on her subconsciousness. Not knowing about this…gift truly terrified her. She was just as, if not more in the dark than everyone else. Then again, this could be another show of rebellion, and yet… Fyodor narrowed his eyes. There was no purpose in that now.

His expression softened into an almost somber smile, as he squeezed her closer and dipped his head to murmur against her temple, “Shh… That’s enough. You need not think about it or anything else.”

Gradually, her breathing evened out in beat with her form resting more fully onto him. The small whimpers trickled away, leaving her pliant and at ease once more. To think she got so riled up because of her own visions and their identity. It was an interesting question even as it was a shame he could not discover their true origins and scope with her.

Alas, he glanced at the door where faint echoes of an antique sword tapping against the narrow halls slowly approached; it was time for him to move forward. A feat that became far easier with the knowledge he gained.

Tilting her face up and to the side, vibrant violet met tarnished gold as his hand pulled away from her shoulder to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the remnant of tears from her lashes. Such fragile beauty… It was a shame that it would soon be lost. Nevertheless… Fyodor’s eyes narrowed as he closed the meager distance between them.

He would make sure her finale was unforgettable.

 

…

 

The tension in the air was palpable – churning his stomach and constricting around his throat. This was insane. A shot in the dark he was more than willing to take, yet the shadow beside him could very well kill him before anything inside the dark opening carved into the mountain side could. Yes, everything about this screamed a bad idea, and yet he kept such objections sealed away while casting a sidelong glance at the one who proposed it.

If anyone could pull off something this crazy, it would be him.

Or so he hoped as the ever growing cloud of animosity radiating off Akutagawa threatened to explode if he so much as breathed the wrong way. Not to say he would not do the same if the impulsive mafioso threatened to compromise this mission. Indeed, with each passing second that reality grew more certain in his mind to the point he felt the tiger bristle alongside him.

No! Atsushi shook away the thought. Fighting with Akutagawa would only make things worse. He needed to focus – focus on why they were here. Violet’s life was at stake here. They couldn’t afford infighting. Besides, with Dazai in the vicinity he could count on Akutagawa being at least somewhat tame.

After all, if he gathered enough from their interactions upon reaching this location, the mafioso held his mentor in some regard. Why? He left Port Mafia years ago. Why should he care about him – about someone who virtually betrayed the mafia in running away? Then again, what exactly was Dazai’s relationship with Port Mafia to have been able to secure a line of communication with the boss? Come to think of it, that man seemed amiable to the bandaged man as well. Could it be that he…?

“Atsushi-kun,” the named flinched, feeling a chill trace down his spine at the small smile his mentor shot him. Did he know what he was thinking? If so, he hid it excellently, or perhaps held a better grasp of the situation at hand as he murmured, “Are you ready?”

“Huh?” his brows furrowed. Weren’t Akutagawa and Kyouka supposed to move first and clear the way for-?

His thoughts cut short as he glanced leftwards where the young girl was only to find the space empty like the one harboring Akutagawa. What? How did they…?

“Focus Atsushi,” Kunikida growled from behind, “Now is not the time to daydream.”

“Y-Yeah…” he chagrined, finding some relief in the sympathetic look Tanizaki shot his way before following after their seniors as they slunk closer to the opening; taking care to remain in the shadows.

Worn, dilapidated shacks and structures that could barely be called shelter drew closer – a persistent silence only serving to grate further against their nerves. Evidently these structures once served as a base for a remnant group after the last major war years before their time. Their very design teased his attention as he only saw such sights in the books he read in the orphanage. A part of him wished the reason for them being here was something as innocent as sightseeing.

No. Only nightmares would remain in this desolate place.

Hopefully that would be all that remained… No. It would be. Dazai’s plan would work. It had to.

A thud sounded alarmingly close, and if not for his already tense muscles he may have jumped or yelped or both. For better or worse, the young teen held his tongue as a blur of red and black teased the corners of his vision. Akutagawa and Kyouka, no doubt. They were clearing the way efficiently, and yet… He glanced at the fallen heap. Was he…? No. Dazai specifically ordered not to cause unnecessary death. But would that be enough to ring in the bloodthirsty mafioso? He could only pray that obsession he held for his superior proved enough to quell that murderous instinct.

He shook his head, dislodging those concerns. While his stomach churned at the thought of being involved in a plan that killed others, they could not afford to fail. Some…casualties were an unavoidable risk – Dazai made as much clear when outlining the plan with Ranpo and Poe. To think they could accomplish this without bloodshed would be naïve.

After all, this was a den of murderers – rats with no qualm in bringing plague and pestilence to the city and everything he held dear.

Be that as it may, with each dulled thud the silence around them grew more oppressive. His seniors’ expressions remained focused – a far cry to the growing unease displayed by Tanizaki and himself. Did they not feel the pressure of all of this? Or perhaps experience lent them a level of control over their physical reactions. Indeed, despite their posture and appearance, he could feel the weight of everything radiate off them. Well, all but Dazai who remained disquietingly calm throughout it all as they entered the building housing the entrance to the tunnels.

Not a second after they entered and reached the first of what could only be countless crossroads, Akutagawa and Kyouka emerged from the shadows as Dazai turned to face them – his eyes locking with the young weretiger’s. He felt something lodge in his throat. Doubt and stress filled his veins, and yet how could he turn back now when they reached a moment of truth.

A moment he feared would not meet the expectations rising in those carnelian eyes.

“Breathe,” Yosano murmured, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder – touch prompting him to flinch and cast a nervous grimace her way, “Dazai and Ranpo agreed to this for a reason. Don’t sell yourself short. Just breathe and focus.”

“Y-Yeah…” he responded, taking the folded cloth the doctor stored in her bag.

Violet’s blouse – the one she typically wore when visiting the Agency. It brought back bittersweet memories and only reaffirmed his resolve. If only that could settle the nerves rising as he cast a glance at the bandaged detective who suggested this insane idea – one that capitalized on the remarkable instincts of a predator trailing its prey.

Only in this case, he was the unfortunate tiger searching out the old scent of the missing flower.

It was insane, completely and utterly insane. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised given who the bandaged man was, and yet to play the role of some hunting dog… It held some level of demeaning air to it that only soured his unease. After all, he’d never used the tiger’s ability in such a manner. Would it even work? Sure, the President’s ability allowed him a certain degree of control, but would it be enough?

Could they truly rely on something so uncertain? Atsushi wanted to scream no – to rely on something else. Be that as it may… He exhaled deeply. This is the path Dazai chose. He had to believe that it would work. As insane as this all was, things had a way of working out for the bandaged man. Now would not be any different.

Ignoring common social instincts deploring his actions, the teen pulled the garment closer to his face and inhaled deeply, careful to open his mouth a little and let the air pass inside. It felt degrading to say the least, and yet he held onto Poe’s advice about how animals track scents to distract from how his cheeks heated up. The olfactory senses and those of taste were intricately connected, allowing him to identify that familiar honey-tinged lavender scent clearly.

It brought back memories of their time aboard Moby Dick where she held him close, promising everything would be okay. It wrung his heart, and he silently vowed to repay that moment. Atsushi raised his head, peering into the darkness that gave way a little thanks to the tiger’s eyes and Kunikida supplying them with a couple flashlights. He would find her and bring her back, no matter what.

Atsushi closed his eyes, focusing on the scents passing over his tongue. They were jumbled – notes of copper, cold stone, numerous figures varying in potency, and other miscellaneous fragrances coiling around the one he sought. It was insane, and a part of him warred with the urge to shoot Dazai a helpless look – to beg him not to rely on such an untested, insane method.

No. He frowned, furrowing his brows. He couldn’t do that. Dazai was relying on him. He couldn’t let him down – couldn’t let Violet down. He wouldn’t fail her again. They were going to save her this time.

Just focus. Focus. Find that familiar scent. Where was it the strongest…?

“This is taking too long, we don’t have time-”

Kunikida’s growl cut short as dichromatic eyes abruptly opened as Atsushi pointed at one of the openings with a gasp, “That way!”

Not wasting a second, Akutagawa darted forward, ready to clear the area of any foe with Kyouka trailing close behind – perhaps too close as the black mafioso suddenly collided with the dark opening and, thus, pulled a startled gasp from her as he fell back onto her and nearly sent both to the ground. Sheer astonishment radiated off the others.

What…? Atsushi blinked only to narrowly avoid Rashoumon as it sliced the air his head was in seconds earlier. The teen bristled, “What the heck was that?”

“You took the words straight from my lips, man-tiger,” Akutagawa snarled, looking ready to slaughter him only for his former-superior to hum.

“I see. An ability that creates illusions realistic enough to fool even the tiger’s senses…” he mulled, walking up to the opening and reaching out. The moment his fingers brushed the surface of what should have been air, No Longer Human flared to life – dissolving the illusion to reveal the true opening a couple feet to the right.

A frown tugged his lips. This wasn’t good. The fact that disorienting ability was active could only mean Dostoevsky knew of their presence. What would his play be now? Confrontation? Escape? Carnelian eyes narrowed. If he obtained that information already, then the latter stood more probable.

Either way, they could not allow him to escape. If Violet truly did fall, then they could not afford to let Dostoevsky get away, which meant they only had one course of action from here.

“Tanizaki-kun, Kyouka-chan, Akutagawa-kun,” he spoke up, the three directing their attention his way as he turned and ordered, “Return to the entrance and make sure that no one escapes. If anyone comes, stop them or delay them until we get there. Under no circumstances can we let Dostoevsky get away, understood?”

“Eh?” “Understood.”

Akutagawa’s quick agreement stood stark contrast to the confusion and slight misgiving in Tanizaki’s gaze and among those of the Agency aside from Kyouka, who gave a small nod. Thankfully she had not been outside of Port Mafia long enough to ignore that small voice that told her to listen to the orders of her superiors – even if it summoned a bit of guilt in fall back on such measures. Regardless, in situations like this it remained a blessing he would not hesitate to utilize.

Without a word, Akutagawa turned and proceeded back to the entrance – Kyouka and Tanizaki following soon after the younger pulled the ginger with her. In beat with their movements, Dazai turned and proceeded further in, keenly aware of the stares of his companions who, after a moment’s hesitation, followed.

Graciously they appeared to recognize his intentions or, at the very least, trust him enough to follow along; Atsushi trotting up to walk beside him with his mouth slightly open. The sight brought some warmth to him. He truly was a good subordinate, and, by the way he managed to avoid a few illusions, a quick learner.

They continued forward at an agonizingly steady pace – each itching to race through the tunnels yet knowing such would only end painfully. No. They had to calm down; focus on their objective. There was no need to rush – that’s why he sent the three back. No matter what, they would corner Dostoevsky and rescue Violet. There was no need to act rashly. Everything would work out.

If only this tormenting journey would have mercy on them as they rounded the corner to be met with a large cavern.

Without warning, water sloshed against their feet. Water. Dazai grimaced, catching a similar expression paint Atsushi’s features. Violet’s scent, the thing they relied on to navigate these twisting tunnels, was muddled. There was little chance they could count on the tiger’s senses now.

Did Dostoevsky predict this? Did he know they would utilize Atsushi’s ability like this? It made sense. He would do the same. It was a perfect plan. One he now had to find a counter for. But what? What should they do? They couldn’t simply rely on his ability nullifying any illusions – too much time would be wasted. They needed to keep moving. But how-?

In scanning the cavern, his gaze caught sight of an oddity among the shadows – one being a few shades too light. Indeed, it stood out against the black; not enough to contrast too greatly yet sufficient that the color could not be called black but…grey.

Dazai blinked, and for a moment he believed the figure to be an apparition his mind conjured up from stress. Well, until the man blinked back, his silver eyes calm and yet… Why did they inspire such unease? Something…Something about him was not quite right. Was this what she felt when she encountered him before? Or were these his own misgivings?

More importantly, why was this man, this Grey, here now? Was he here to hinder them, or…?

His thoughts cut short as the specter moved, action like a ripple passing through the tension in the air. Without a word, he turned and disappeared within one of the many connecting passageways. For reasons he could not begin to explain, his instincts screamed to follow – mind all of the sudden cluttered with images, memories.

And yet none were his own.

A grimace cut across his features and a pulsing pain upwelled in his left eye he subconsciously raised a hand to put pressure on.  What was that? Another side-effect from sharing a mind with her? Did she experience the same sensations? Did that demon anticipate this as well? More importantly…

Was it such a wise idea to follow? Each time she did, she landed in more perilous situations – the last nearly causing her to drown. Sure, an argument could be made that they were some sort of rite of passage, with a reasonable security about them, and yet those initial misgivings simply would not let him accept that. He couldn’t trust Grey. Not when there were so many unknowns surrounding him. He knew that, she knew that, they both did. However…

Water sloshed as he stepped forward.

“Dazai?” Kunikida’s voice echoed slightly in the space, question voicing the looks searing into his back.

Not missing a beat, he tersely spoke, “This way.”

Thankfully, despite the overwhelming questions buzzing around them, the others followed along without a word. Truly he valued their understanding in these times, enough to consider going easy on his clowning and perhaps finish half of the report coming their way. Be that as it may, his attention focused on reaching a point where they could compose such a file.

Picking up his pace, Dazai attempted to close or at least shorten the distance between them and the grey phantom, yet each corner or bend they turned only seemed to lengthen that gap. It was aggravating, and a part of him felt inclined to run but was subdued by another, more logical sense telling him to make as little noise as possible in the water that ranged from ankle deep to, at some points, waist high. Were they near an underground reservoir? Or was this merely from the previous day’s storm? Did that mean these tunnels flooded regularly in the rainy season? What was the weather forecast for today? Partly cloudy if he recalled. Be that as it may…

Dazai frowned, once more catching the coattail of the man disappear behind the bend. Fortunately, they seemed to be on an incline – water now just coating the floors. Without the added resistance and source of noise, his strides lengthened considerably; prompting a few sounds of surprise from behind as the others stumbled to match his sudden increase in pace.

His heart began to beat louder, adrenaline surging as Atsushi abruptly perked up – eyes widening in telltale sign of picking up Violet’s scent once more. They were close, enough to warrant extreme caution and yet nerves and built up tension numbed that warning. Despite knowing they were in the depths of a demon’s den, only one thought consumed him.

Violet… If he could just see her. If he could only see those warm, olive eyes, that serene smile; hear that melodic voice…. Almost two weeks passed since their ascent from Yokoyama’s lab, and yet it felt like months. It was insane and illogical, this urge of his. However, he allowed it to fuel him forward and into the light, subconsciously aware of the abrupt vanishing of their grey guide.

Not that it mattered as at long last they reached their destination.

Feet skidded to a stop, all eyes darting around to find any figure or movement. Tensions were raised as they prepared for anything and everything except for a faint scratching noise from above. Instantly, all attention snapped upwards to a sight that left them breathless.

Time stopped as they locked gazes with chillingly vacant olive eyes – eyes that bore no recognition of them as their owner stood silently on the ledge above, the off-white cloak she donned scratching at the floor from the faintest of breezes. Her hair appeared combed, albeit loosely, yet the pallor of her skin and the sour scent lingering in the air told she was far from alright.

Atsushi felt his heartbeat painfully slow, mind blanking as they simply stared back in shocked silence for a moment longer before Yosano breathed out, “Violet…!”

The named barely reacted, only going so far as to glance at the doctor as if she was some stranger. It was chilling, especially when she barely budged upon himself and Kunikida trying to call for her as well. What happened to her? Did the mastermind hypnotize her? Drug her? Why wasn’t she responding? Atsushi suppressed a shudder.

An action that proved futile as a dark chuckle sent goosebumps along his skin in beat with a figure materializing from the shadows.

Reality held its breath as they stiffened, meeting those icy, indifferent violet eyes – the same ones that they encountered that day on the hills, the ones that haunted them along with that nerve-wracking voice that simpered like poisonous oil, “Congratulations, detectives. You made it just in time.”

Atsushi shivered at his words and the obvious insidious intent behind them. Beside him, he felt Kunikida bristle, retort ready to fall from his lips, yet seconds before they could fall, another voice cut through the air violently. Indeed, it was so potent he was stunned to find himself unaware of the festering ill will so close to him until that point – shocked as much as the others when he turned to find Dazai glaring daggers and seething at the demon above in a voice that easily matched and in some ways surpassed the horror he created.

“Dostoevsky!”

Notes:

Ahh, I'm so tired but wanted to post this chapter before passing out. Forgive any weirdness. I'll try to look it over in the morning.

@Sian: Yes and it's hitting hard. Sorry if this one isn't really a climax either but it definitely is building for the next one. Ahh yes I do have a rough character sheet as it comes to appearances. You can view it here if you would like.

@Delasera: Well, unfortunately it doesn't look too good for her. But now that the Agency at last found her, things may begin looking up, huh?

Chapter 62: Part That's Holding On

Summary:

You cannot gain without losing something else.

Notes:

Warning: mentions and strong suggestions of abuse

“Dostoevsky!”

To the blind man, it was the guttural snarl of a monstrous beast – its hackles raised and muscles tense in preparation for a kill. And while not necessarily the case, the bloodthirst gleaming red in those carnelian eyes stood a tremendous force.

Everything shook, and it took him a second to realize it was not due to an underground tremor or explosion. He inhaled a shaky breath through his nose, forcing the bubbling emotions down – blocking out the fierce ones radiating from his allies. Yet even then the sight of Violet’s vacant gaze staring through them haunted him.

She was still breathing, but what about the state of her mind and soul? Were they still alive?

His jaw set as toxic chuckles echoed around them, followed by Dostoevsky’s arms ensnaring her against his chest. Her lack of reaction to his touch and their presence chilled his veins even as Dazai leveled a steely gaze at the demon. His violet eyes narrowed in amusement at the shocked and begrudging faces below. Almost as if he took pleasure in rubbing salt into their wounds.

Wounds that stole Atsushi’s breath as he called weakly, “Violet-san…!”

“Bastard, get your hands off of her!” Kunikida snarled, pulling up his pistol and aiming for the demon’s head.

“Oh? Are you sure that is a wise move?” Dostoevsky questioned idly, leaning down so that his face was partially blocked by Violet’s, “You have good aim for a detective, but do you truly want to take that risk?”

The blonde growled, eyes spitting curses at the underhanded move. Beside him, Dazai scowled, yet felt the rising cold in his chest expand further. Why wasn’t Violet reacting or putting up any resistance? Was she drugged? What torture did Dostoevsky inflict on her?

What information did he pull from her lips?

He shuddered, glad for Yosano’s snarl directing the demon’s attention to her, “Coward! Hiding behind someone… Come down here and face us!”

“Hmm?” the demon tilted his head near demeaningly as he drawled, “No thank you. I am perfectly content staying right where I am.”

The doctor cursed under her breath, resentment steadily building and combining with that radiating off their allies. It was a dangerous build, one they each knew could prove to be catastrophic in the presence of the demon. However, that fire could also mean the difference between walking away with the blonde or staying buried below with her. It was a gamble – one he was keenly aware of from the start and willing to bet on.

Dostoevsky smirked, taking in their expressions for a moment before speaking, “What is the matter? Why so serious? This is the reunion you all have been so desperately waiting for. Should you not be happy? Should you not rejoice that at long last you are moments away from saving Violet?”

His words, while spoken softly, felt like hail pelting against their skin and only deepened their scorn. Be that as it may, Dazai barely paid mind to the taunt. No. The demon’s words prompted another disquieting peculiarity.

Something…Something was not right. Well, a lot of things were, but one thing in particular rubbed the wrong way. Carnelian eyes narrowed barely perceptibly. Dostoevsky’s responses… They were delayed by the slightest of margins – ones so small they could be overlooked or maybe even imagined. And yet their presence spoke volumes and pointed to more ominous implications that sent cold shivers down his spine.

It couldn’t be…

“Although…” the demon smirked, gathering his attention as he pressed cold lips against her temple without breaking eye-contact with them, “I don’t believe there is much left of her.”

Icy rage froze his blood as Dazai’s expression remained controlled, and yet the conflagration in his eyes spoke volumes. At the same time the sour sorrow that rose in Atsushi’s breathless voice festered in him, “No… You couldn’t…”

Dostoevsky smirked, trailing a hand down until his fingers curled around the cloak’s hem. In a sinister fashion, he pulled it away from her – Atsushi and Kunikida blinking only to turn away hastily out of formality. Be that as it may, the image of her pristine skin haunted them. Or, rather, once pristine skin now covered in cuts and telltale purple and maroon marks all the way down to her waist and, to their grim conclusion, beneath where the cloak barely covered the rest of her.

Atsushi puked, Kunikida not fairing much better as he cursed and glared through teary eyes at the demon, “You bastard…!”

“Scum…!” Yosano snarled, as she gripped her blade so tightly it threatened to snap, “I shouldn’t be surprised but I thought at the very least you held some small sense of dignity. Forcing yourself onto someone else, onto Violet… I’ll make sure you feel every inch of skin I cut from you!”

“How terrifying,” he said as if she was nothing more than an ant. His voice contorted malevolently as his curled hands around Violet’s waist, leaving red trails in their wake, “But before you begin, let me correct one thing: I did not force Violet into anything.”

“Liar!” the doctor spat instantly.

Dostoevsky smirked, tracing circles in the blonde’s hip, giving special emphasis to a particularly large scar marring her skin. His voice was laced with poison as his eyes drifted to the bandaged man beside Yosano, “Perhaps. She was awfully tormented at first – crying that name over and over again…”

Narrowing his eyes, he spoke like the Devil himself in a mocking, deadly play on Violet’s soft voice, “Shuuji… Shuuji…”

Bang!

A deafening explosion cut through the air, prompting most of the Agency members to jump – Atsushi giving a startled yelp. Ragged breaths gradually replaced the ringing in their ears. While they knew the man, a sudden consuming fear rose within them, begging them not to look up only to come too late as all eyes pinned Dazai.

Pure loathing and fury contorted his face, making him nearly unrecognizable. Indeed, in all the time they knew the man he rarely if ever showed such extreme emotions – let alone genuine ones. At long last they were able to peer through the cracks in his mask and take in the person beneath. A man who now appeared more of a monster to their shaking nerves. One who snarled at the shattered forms of Dostoevsky and Violet above.

What? Atsushi’s mind reeled, only growing more tormented and confounded as Dostoevsky’s dark laughter echoed through the cavern, “Such fury… Don’t tell me I struck a nerve?”

To their dismay, the man stood completely unharmed – a far cry to the jagged lines cutting through him and Violet as their forms flickered unsteadily. Atsushi blinked, confusion lasting only moments before clarity arrived. It wasn’t really him. No. What they were facing was another illusion.

One that quickly surrounded them in a horrid take of a mirror house as Dostoevsky’s voice echoed around uncannily, “You would have been so proud of her. She lasted far longer than anyone else and valiantly endured everything for your sake. Very noble, right?”

His compliments felt like acid rubbed on their skin, Dazai glaring around trying to pinpoint the source of his voice that continued malevolently, “I wonder, how long would she have lasted had you not shown up that day?”

His words cut like knives, hitting their marks precisely to the point the detective flinched – their grimaces only deepening as the demon tilted his head to the side demeaningly while pulling Violet’s face into the crook of his neck, “From that point she became much more pliant – to the extent I needn’t employ Griboyedov-san’s ability. She was so confident in your position as saviors… It almost makes me jealous that I wasn’t the one to break her.”

No. Don’t listen. Don’t feed into his distractions. This was all merely an illusion – a tactic to buy time. He couldn’t afford to fall for it, and yet… A grimace marred Dazai’s features as the bile churned his stomach.

That name… It wasn’t possible, and yet if she truly knew about their pasts and the reality of that name falling from his lips… There was no doubt now that she fell. Whatever instincts told him not to believe the demon were shaken and left him feeling as if his insides were scrubbed with a moldy sponge. All those secrets, everything he kept hidden from others and, in some cases, himself now rested in Dostoevsky’s palm. It was the worst case scenario by far.

One fortunately taken into consideration as he locked eyes with one of the illusions, noting its slightly weaker posture with a small smile that did not reach his gaze as he spoke, “Well, speaking from experience, things involving Violet-chan often involve circumstances that are not what they appear to be. Much like your growingly lackluster illusion.”

Dostoevsky’s expression shifted into a frown, eyes narrowing the tiniest of fractions while Dazai finished in a poisonously sweet tone, “Please don’t strain yourself for our sakes. Why don’t you allow yourself a moment to catch your breath in your own image?”

Silence followed in which there was no doubt in his mind that Dostoevsky was contemplating his moves only to apparently relent as the demon’s image along with the one of Violet wavered once more before disappearing in a strange vapor. His allies stiffened beside him, taking in the true form of the illusionist with a mix of surprise and apprehension.

Blood red eyes contrasted greatly with the pale, grey-blue uniform of the man who now stood before them. His height shrunk a little, while the build of him strengthened into lean muscle undoubtedly gained from training and combat with the ornate sword fastened to his belt by a woven, gold strand. While his presence did not hold the same oppression as Dostoevsky’s, it radiated a formidable air even as an off-red stain grew on his left side.

His shot earlier hit, yet any satisfaction diminished at how the soldier held himself steady. Indeed, he gave no reaction – further cementing the fact that he was accustomed to combat and the inevitable wounds it brought. Sure, the hit may have weakened him a little, but not enough that they could relax in the slightest; especially as he drew his sword in an almost elegant manner.

Dostoevsky’s voice contorted, growing deeper with a sort of raspy quality common in aged persons despite the man not looking much older than himself, “Your concern and knowledge of my illusions are unnecessary. They will not change my mission.”

Dazai blinked. This man was…surprisingly dense in a way most people who were too honest were. Almost nobly so, if not moronically. It made sense why he fell under Dostoevsky’s control. Still, to think he would be the one to confront them…

Kunikida shook his head, dispersing the same befuddlement and leveling a stern gaze up at the soldier, “Enough! Tell us where Violet and Dostoevsky are now, and we will make this quick.”

“And by quick he means only bringing you to the edge a couple of times,” Yosano grinned darkly.

The man tilted his head, completely unaffected by their threats as he simply replied, “Regardless of whether I tell you or not, the outcome remains the same. Dostoevsky-sama will escape with or without that prophetess – of that I will make sure it comes to pass.”

A scowl lined their features only to waver as a flash of silvery grey shot past them, soon revealing itself to be Atsushi lunging at the soldier while snarling, “Not a chance! We won’t let you take her away again!”

With an angry yell, he swiped at the man with intents to knock him out in one blow. However, seconds before impact, the man grinned ominously – features abruptly blurring and refocusing into a form that stopped Atsushi in his tracks. Olive eyes blinked up at him, their light heart wrenching in how he missed seeing them after what felt like months. Indeed, his allies behind stiffened at the thought of seeing the tiger’s claws maul the young blonde.

A reality that nearly occurred if not for the weretiger skidding to a stop inches away, breathing out, “Violet-san?!”

Dazai stiffened. This wasn’t good. Using her image now could only mean…!

“Atsushi-kun, watch ou-!”

Before he could finish, a shower of red spattered on the stone ground – the young teen giving a pained grunt as a silver blade pierced his left abdomen. Shock intertwined with resentment at the lowly tactic as Dazai glared up at the illusionist whose calm smile looked eerie on the blonde as he tilted his head.

“What’s the matter, Atsushi? Why are you trying to hurt me? I thought you came to save me. Could it be that you actually want me dead?” Violet’s voice tormented them, feeling like a splash of icy water laced with sharp knives.

Indeed, it took the teen’s breath away as he stammered, “W-What? I- No…!”

His objections cut short as the blonde smirked, twisting the blade deeper and drawing out a hiss from him only to suddenly jump away as multiple shots whizzed by – taking the blade with and causing the weretiger to fall to a knee and hold his bleeding side.

“Atsushi!” Yosano quickly approached, letting her ability aide the tiger’s in healing his injury while Kunikida continued his assault on the swordsman who seemingly effortlessly dodged his shots.

Sparing a glance to ascertain Atsushi was alright, Dazai quickly backed-up his partner with well-aimed shots at the soldier’s feet. A piece of his heart twisted even as he knew it was an illusion. How cruel and completely up Dostoevsky’s alley to force them into this predicament… Nevertheless, they couldn’t waste time here. Each second raised the chances of that demon escaping and sealed Violet’s fate further. They couldn’t afford to stay here, so how-?

“Dazai…!” Kunikida hissed, gaze locking with his and sending a silent message.

We must rescue her this time. Failure is not an option. We will handle him, so go!

The brunette gave a subtle nod, continuing to shoot at the illusionist while Kunikida raised his weapon and began firing at the ceiling above, prompting the blonde to sneer in a fashion that marred Violet’s features unnaturally, “Have you finally lost it? You’re not even close. Tell me, are you really trying to save that woman?”

Kunikida leveled a loathsome expression at the soldier only to smirk as rubble began raining from above and prompting those olive eyes to widen as he replied, “You may look like Violet, but you’re nowhere near as observant as she is. Could you not tell? I wasn’t aiming for you.”

The soldier seethed, glaring up at the cracked ceiling briefly before lunging at the blonde only to be blocked by Yosano’s blade as the doctor grinned, “Not so fast. You look a bit beat up, and I’d be more than willing to help patch you back together again.”

A scoff fell from his lips as he shoved back and leapt out of range of her counterattack, not faring as well with the swipe Atsushi gave as he yelled, “You won’t get away!”

Three diagonal red lines tore down the young blonde’s cheek as her gasp wrung their hearts even as the two continued their assault until the illusionist’s back hit the far wall. Be that as it may, composure and calm remained in her features as the soldier panted a little, “You really wish to save her, don’t you? Even after dooming her to her fate. It’s touching, really. Still…”

The rocks falling from the ceiling gradually gained size and weight, slowly piling up in front of the other opening. Dazai tensed, waiting for the right moment to move so as not to give away their intents and prevent the illusionist from following. Timing was key; he just had to wait a little longer…

The soldier’s sneer at their loathing glares cut through his concentration, the expression marring Violet’s features unnaturally as he finished ominously, “I wonder, will you fare better this time?”

Dazai grit his teeth, completely fed up with the charade and ready to end it in a single shot, but before he could raise his weapon Kunikida snapped, “Now!”

The man’s cold gaze darted toward his partner, a silent understanding passing between them in milliseconds. All the time they needed to exchange a small nod before Dazai darted forward and through the opening seconds before the rocks raining from above blocked it off. A piece of him ached to put a stop to the crafty foe, but he of all people knew where their priorities lied.

Behind, he heard the cries of his companions as they faced off against the illusionist. He was a difficult opponent, yet confidence in their ability kept him going forward. They would survive and prevail, which meant he had to do the same. He would continue until he found the real Violet. He would bring her back.

Even if it meant dirtying his hands once more.

Accepting that possibility, he raced forward – perhaps a bit too hastily as No Longer Human suddenly activated and the ground beneath him transformed into a steep slope. Dazai grimaced, efforts to balance himself struggling to succeed as he slid down the incline, his hands scraping against rough stone to control the descent into darkness as his flashlight shattered upon impact.

Air rushed by him, the only indication he was sliding down at a rapid pace. His heart pounded; instincts ready to jump if only his eyes could perceive a place to jump to. He grimaced, pain in his hand steadily growing as he dug his nails into the jagged rocks, efforts rising as a faint blue glow steadily approached and he began to make out an opening into another cavern.

One in which the opening he emerged from contained a dangerously narrow path that led to the ground on the opposite side of a seemingly endless drop off.

Dazai gasped as the edge drew up far faster than his eyes could catch; heels and hand digging into the gritty stone in desperate attempt to keep from flying off. His fortune, as it would appear, had not yet abandoned him as Dazai hung over the edge of a dark chasm. Heavy breaths stung his lungs with stale, cold air while his hand and legs throbbed.

The flash of white just a few heads above, however, constricted his throat as he locked eyes with Dostoevsky’s imperious grin from where he sat like the western kings of legend. Cradled in his arms was Violet, her features pale and deathly still. Worst of all were his fingers pressing into her bare legs, only partially concealing the marks callously left behind. Dazai grimaced, guilt warring with fury. Phantoms of her screams and cries for help tormented him. She trusted he’d find her – believed he would save her in time.

Something that only made his failure ten times more unforgivable.

Gathering his breath, he glared coldly at the demon responsible. For a brief moment he considered the possibility of him being another illusion and yet… No. There was no mistaking this prickling against his skin. This was the real Dostoevsky, and in his arms… The bandaged detective felt his jaw clench in effort to retain some cold, controlled expression. 

One that did not go unnoticed by the demon who smirked vilely.

“Why so quiet, Dazai-kun? Where’s the telltale quip or jester’s performance?” Dostoevsky jabbed, cocking his head in a demeaning manner, “Don’t tell me… Are you actually upset that you’re too late?”

Despite his silence, his answer rang clear as the demon laughed malevolently, “How unexpected. And to think you were once called a Demon Prodigy. How the mighty have fallen. But then this all is to be expected, right? Everything you could ever hope to hold turns to dust at your touch.”

A cold, distant glare coated over his eyes as Dazai stared at the man, his words cutting deep and freezing his blood to something inhumane. Everything he touched turned to dust? He was incapable of holding onto anything? Of course. He’d known that for a long time. It was engraved in his bones and seared into his mind. Forgotten? Please.

It was his very existence.

Be that as it may… He glanced at the unconscious woman, her vacant eyes staring into the void without any semblance of their former life and vigor. Did some part of him hope she would mark the difference? Did he actually allow himself to believe? Or maybe it was her very being that influenced that hope – spurring it to grow before he realized it himself.

If that was the case, then was it so wrong for him to want that seedling to flourish and grow? To bring warmth and life to his grey world?

“Sure, but nothing could ever belong to a rat either. Guess that makes us the same in that sense,” ice lined his casual comment, infecting the demon’s bitter smirk.

With defiled grace, he rose to his feet, lifting Violet with an ease that drew Dazai’s brows closer. How much weight had she lost? How far gone was she not to even flinch at his proximity – at the sound of his voice? Indeed, she uttered no sound even as Dostoevsky approached the edge, actions prompting Dazai’s heart to skip a beat. Through it all, the blonde merely rested her head against his chest, lashes gently fluttering in efforts to close despite some silent command to remain open. It was as if she was resigned to whatever the demon pleased.

It haunted him, more so than any of the marks or scars embedded in her delicate skin.

“Perhaps,” Dostoevsky agreed lightly, vile glimmer in his eyes softening in a way that made the detective’s stomach churn as he gazed at the small form in his arms, “But I myself will choose that which I gain and that which I lose. Nothing worthwhile will ever fall from my grasp without my approval…”

Dazai tensed, not liking the choice of words or how he practically held Violet over the dark pit. His muscles tensed. If he obtained that which he wanted from her… If this was where her value came to an end… The odds of that were…

A bitter note flashed through his numb realization as the demon shifted his grip on the blonde, leaning to murmur against her temple words that failed to reach his ears even in the silent cavern. His fists clenched. What was he telling her? Veiled threats? Cutting taunts? Did Violet even know what he was saying?

“Farewell, mon belle fleur…”

Ice froze the blood in his veins and his heart forgot how to beat as the demon’s words flowed over him in beat with those pale hands releasing their grip on the woman. Time slowed as her yellow hair flowed in a phantom breeze – olive eyes not showing a hint of fear or any emotion. Between her catatonic state and the doom awaiting her, he didn’t know which made his heart beat painfully slower.

An echoed chuckle sounded from the demon above as he watched, silently sneering at his agonizing choice. Would he jump to save her and thus risk losing Dostoevsky? Or would he let her fall to pursue the demon and capture him now that he was cornered? Cornered? No. That wasn’t the case. A faint breeze teased his coat, which meant…

Another exit. Dazai scowled deeply. It was a horrible choice fitting of Hobson’s dilemma. And yet, there really was no choice in the matter after all. There was no debate or dilemma. The answer was obvious.

“Violet!” Dazai shouted, leaping forward without hesitation into the gaping blackness. Right as their bodies collided, something hit him. Were they going to die here? Ironic seeing as how he felt no urge to perish with the lovely woman.

No. For perhaps the only time in his life, he wanted to live.

Holding her close, he curled as best he could around her – determined to at least save her. Air rushed around them like a tornado, tearing at his clothes and hair. He expected it to last a while longer, but to his astonishment it abruptly ended as the cold, hard ground slammed into his side. Searing pain flooded his bones; his body tensing around Violet’s in a subconscious effort to safeguard her as they tumbled over and over until at last settling with him blanketing her.

Pushing up, he panted as his body shook from the painful landing and effort it took to support his weight. Cracking open an eye, Dazai breathed sparingly as his blurred vision slowly returned to make out Violet’s beaten, bruised, and bloodied form beneath him. The cloak Dostoevsky wrapped her in barely covered her, and at this proximity he was able to see the demon’s rather cartoonish emblem on the front.

It made his stomach churn, and he felt an insatiable urge to tear it off if only to keep anything faintly resembling the demon far from her. However, his eyes caught something that made his blood run cold. Her chest… It was disquietingly still. For a second his heart stopped, not seeing any source of life. Just before panic could settle in, she gave a weak cough and opened her eyes to mere slits.

It should’ve reassured him, but the sheer emptiness and exhaustion made them near lifeless as her eyelids drew down once more and she let out a small breath. Like a bolt of lightning striking him, her descent propelled him forward as he cupped her cheek and called, “Violet! Hold on!”

She gave no response, only serving to terrify him more as he swiftly gathered her in his arms and came to a weak stand – forcing his battered legs up and out of this desolate pit. Through it all he murmured over and over under his breath, “Hold on, Violet. Please… Just hold on!”

Notes:

At long last we have made it through this rough patch. Can't say it'll be that much better from here for Violet but it's certainly been a journey to write - this chapter especially as I considered adding more to it and/or splitting it in half but in the end settled with how it turned out.

As a side note, on a few things in this chapter, it really makes me smile when I see comments in previous chapters guessing spot on what happens in future ones that I often write the bulk of in advance and this one was no exception with Dazai shooting "Fyodor". Also, I strongly believe that BSD Fyo knows some French, hence the name he calls Violet, and adore the idea of the characters speaking different languages especially as it ties into one of the themes of this series in communication and learning different languages. But enough of all that.

@Delasera: Yep, and the rocky road to recovery begins here. Well, it was a bit of a fight with Grib, and not really one with Fyo. Then again, I always view his conflicts with Dazai and the others to be more mental and/or psychological than physical which is what makes him so dangerous. Still, hope it wasn't too lackluster for you, and thank you for the lovely comment ♥

@Sian: Right? She's gone through some horrible stuff to say the least. And anytime c: Haha no worries, art is tough so the fact that you can draw is amazing enough and either way your comments still make me smile no matter what ♥

@uwuscope: Hope this was somewhat okay of a climax for you, it is one of the longer chapters so if anything it had that going for it c:

@seneca: Ooh? A retreat sounds like a lot of fun~ Hope you had a good time c:
Haha well, they don't interact much but I wouldn't say the short encounter wasn't without its underlying meanings and hints. After all, Fyo now knows a good bit about Dazai which can't make him feel at ease whatsoever. And heh, well he did sort of shoot him in a way I suppose.
Ahh yes, Grey's presence was something interesting huh? But it seems he is no longer there - I wonder why? Nevertheless, there is some small hope left so we'll just see where that leads everyone.
Thank you for the kind words ♥ I sorta attempted more rest but heh guess I'll have to try harder this week

Thank you all, until next time~

Chapter 63: Slow in Waking

Summary:

"I come across you lost and broken.
You're coming to, but you're slow in waking"

Notes:

Warning: Strong suggestions of abuse

Multiple lacerations and a deep wound to the left hand, right thigh, and abdomen. Fractured bones, cracked and bruised ribs, torn muscles, internal hemorrhages. Severe dehydration and malnourishment. Electrical and chemical burns scattered throughout. Evidence of severe trauma and something more sickening.

And that was merely the physical side. What fresh horrors awaited them when those eyes opened? Would they open?

A heavy sigh left Yosano’s lips as she handed the clipboard back to the nurse on duty, forcing a small smile on her features, “Thank you. We’ll call if anything happens.”

With a word of gratitude and reassurance, the young nurse turned and exited the solemn room, allowing her to face the figures within: Kunikida leaning against the far wall and gazing out the window, Atsushi and Kenji asleep on the small bench, and Dazai in the same spot he’d been since they arrived several days ago – in a chair beside the bed holding the hand of a frail, bandaged Violet.

At long last they fulfilled their mission and rescued her. However, it was a bittersweet victory at best.

Their confrontation with the illusionist Griboyedov, while tedious with his ability to alter his appearance and that of his surroundings, ultimately ended in their favor thanks to Kunikida’s use of his notebook to coat the cavern floor in a thin layer of water. From there it was only a matter of time before he was defeated. Be that as it may, from the communicator in his ear and the way he did not pay Dazai’s escape any heed, it was a calculated outcome.

Much like Dostoevsky’s escape through a hidden tunnel system that exited on the other side of the mountain – far away from the main one guarded by Kyouka and Tanizaki, the small group of representatives from the Special Abilities Department who took Griboyedov into custody, and the black dog from the Port Mafia.

Yosano exhaled. It was hard to define the outcome. On the one hand they apprehended one suspect and successfully saved Violet, however the mastermind escaped, not to mention… She glanced at the young woman. She could hardly be called okay and her heart twisted at the thought of what emotional and psychological trauma she bore. It was enough to drive anyone into the depths of insanity and suicide.

She of all people knew that, but maybe that knowledge and experience would help this new victim find peace a little faster.

Be that as it may, they could only wait until those olive eyes opened to truly assess the extent of the damage done. It was a painful waiting game. Thankfully one Port Mafia opted not to intervene in. That man certainly had something to say, but at the very least he was sensible enough to give them space. It brought a mixed emotion she pushed aside in favor of scanning the machines connected to the blonde. Her vitals were still a bit elevated but much calmer than when they first brought her in.

Heaviness weighed her heart. If only she could have healed her right then and there – the moment Dazai returned with her limp form cradled in his arms. And yet logic reassured she chose correctly. After all, who knew what poisons laced her system? They couldn’t afford sealing them in her – in dooming her with the very ability that was supposed to save her life.

A method damningly twisted and now defining of the demon responsible.

Taking a seat beside Dazai, she briefly examined him in silence. For a man with three fractured ribs and a shoulder that was one bump away from being dislocated, he held himself surprisingly well. Well, considering his previous profession and its requirements, it really was no surprise. Still…

“You shouldn’t push yourself. Kunikida and I can watch over her, so maybe in the meantime you should get some rest yourself,” she murmured, following his gaze to rest on Violet’s slumbering features. She looked so peaceful… How long had it been since she found real rest?

“Aww, are you worried about me?” he responded with a fraction of his typical clowning act; smile small as he furthered almost solemnly, “No. To leave at a crucial time like this… Just thinking about all she endured… No. Missing a little sleep is nothing. If anything,” his lips curved a little in sympathy as he nodded toward his partner, “I think Kunikida-kun needs it more.”

Sparing a glance validated his suggestion as the blonde swayed unsteadily; dark bags weighing down his eyes long since freed from his glasses that rested atop his head. He looked exhausted like the rest of them, perhaps more so. Should she help him to one of the adjacent rooms? But if something were to happen while she was away…

Seemingly reading her thoughts, Dazai added softly, “Don’t worry, I will stay here until she wakes up.”

And what if that took months? Would he wither away alongside her?

Yosano frowned, trying to find reassurance in his worn eyes. In the end she sighed, internally vowing to get the bandaged man to sleep later even if it meant resorting to anesthetics. For now… She approached Kunikida, prepared to catch him as he swayed dangerously, and lead him to find some rest. Perhaps she would seek some as well before they really began this long road to recovery.

 

…

 

Drip. Drip.

Droplets of water rippled along a pristine surface, distorting it in rhythmic waves. Nothing existed. Just the endless, desolate black. An abyss with a single occupant. A prison conjured to protect what little remained of the heart and soul.

Drip. Drop.

Olive eyes stared back aimlessly, the blonde hair framing those features surprisingly neat for all it had been through. Then again, this place wasn’t real. It was a figment. And while a part of me accepted this, the larger whole was content in resting in this nothingness until it inevitably consumed everything.

Exhaustion was a light way of describing the weightiness of my bones. I felt horrid and drained and just so tired – and it showed in the dark circles under my eyes. Was that why I was here in a place like this? Was this a sign that my body was finally giving in?

More ripples expanded, this time originating from a different point. Another prisoner of this place, huh?

My body moved without thinking, eyes rising to see a figure a ways away. Even then, there was no mistaking that tan coat that stood like a gentle flame in the darkness.

“Dazai…” his name fell from my lips, my heart aching as his presence only solidified the fact that none of this was real. Even then…

He turned, carnelian eyes just as breathtaking as I remembered them and only growing more ethereal with the budding smile growing on his features. Perhaps this was all a figment of my imagination – a defense mechanism to salvage whatever remained. And yet if I could be with him, with a memory of him, then it was okay.

At the very least, I could spend my last moments with the warm memory…

I reached for him, ready to hold on until everything faded away, yet before any such thing could come to pass, a calloused hand stopped mine, weaving our fingers together in beat with a cold chest pressing against my back and an even icier voice crooning in my ear.

“Not yet, Violet. Your place is not there,” his voice and touch, oddly enough brought some life to my form. Or, rather, adrenaline to get away as I shoved at his arm around my waist, desperately seeking help from Dazai’s memory.

Only for him to abruptly fade as the world around us spun, blackness becoming itchy grass strewn with rocks and sticks that scraped against my skin and created more scarlet lines. Air shoved from my lungs, unable to return as cruel hands descended – a sharp pain striking up my spine as cold fingers dug into my waist and shoulder. I tried to squirm and thrash away, but was helpless beneath his callous actions.

Why? Why was this happening? Why did fate have to be so cruel as to take this – take my memory of Dazai away at the end? It wasn’t fair. Not at all.

Fyodor’s chuckle sounded like nails down a chalkboard as he dragged me further into hell. His lips danced across my skin, teeth leaving dark marks and bloody crescents in their wake as he made his claim. Worst of all, my body betrayed me, curling cries into weak moans in beat with him paving the way for unspeakable atrocities that made me want to puke.

“Please…! Stop!” I whimpered, voice hitching as he pushed further. White fire singed the back of my eyelids and my body arched treacherously. Since day one I knew this possibility – I knew and tried to prepare, tried to believe that he wouldn’t actually do that; that this was too much for the villain. Reality shouldn’t have surprised. The guy was prepared to kill everyone for his goal.

Stealing everything from one girl wasn’t even a question.

Rubbing salt into the wound, he laughed and captured my lips in a ruthless kiss. Tears failed to form, only adding to my agony. They long since dried up. Back when I held more strength and resolve. Before this horrid hell.

Before I cracked and screamed a name that would spell my downfall.

With a burst of desperation, I flicked my hips to the side – action sending us tumbling chaotically over an invisible edge. Weightlessness captured us for seconds drawn out into eternities before my back collided with a rather firm mattress. Our legs tangled and not even a moment of respite was given to catch my breath as white fire tore through every nerve in my body.

The scream burned my throat – the only real indication I did it as shock enveloped me in efforts to save my consciousness from the tragedy unfolding. My hands grasped blindly for anything, any semblance of purchase to cling onto as everything shattered.

“W-Why..?!” I choked out, struggling to meet those toxic eyes a breath’s width away, “I gave you…what you wanted…! So…ngh! So…w-why…?!”

Fyodor chuckled malevolently, action rippling across my front as our legs tangled nauseatingly as he murmured against my jaw, “My dear, what merit is it to hold onto the pages of a manuscript when its lovely creator is right before me? Do not discredit yourself so easily, you are so much more valuable than a single story…”

My heart froze, unable to accept the truth of his words. The shock would have held me captive for eternity if not for sharp teeth piercing my shoulder and leaving a mark that burned even now. Another yell escaped my lips as his fingers dug into my hips and only furthered the conflagration burning me alive.

Please… I managed to open my eyes to mere slits, barely able to perceive the stone ceiling above and relying on the decaying images of light shining miles above. A prayer rose in final desperation as I reached out. Save me! I don’t want this. Please, make it stop! They have to come in time, right? They’re the heroes. So where are they now?

“They won’t come. Not now, not ever,” Fyodor spoke bluntly, his arms coiling around me like serpents, an irony that failed to reach as he finished ominously, “You are mine, and I will never let go – even if it means sacrificing the 99 to salvage the one.”

What? Why would you…?!

“Don’t you know?” he smirked, caressing my cheek in poisoned reverence, “You have given me the key to bringing down the Port Mafia and Agency…” he leaned closer to whisper, “Your very presence will become their downfall, mon belle fleur.”

Just when I thought I’d reached rock bottom, he shattered the ground beneath and sent me plummeting further. I knew it. I knew this wasn’t going to work. How could I possibly think I’d last against him? Against Fyodor Dostoevsky? It’s impossible. And now not even my submission gave a light of hope. This hell would never end. I doomed everyone, and that fact remained no matter how badly I wanted it to disappear.

It was futile.

All that awaited was endless torment beneath that vile laughter and those manic eyes that glinted as our forms intertwined in a suffocating knot – pressure building until becoming unbearable.  

A gasp caught in the back of my throat and my eyes snapped open, only instead of that nightmarish chamber, a sterile room and soft sheets painted with silver moonlight met me. Where was this? What happened? All I remember was the sharp edge of a table digging into my waist and-

No! I banished the thought before panic could take hold. No. No. No! I bit my lip to keep from screaming out, praying for tears that teased my eyes. Why? Why was this happening? Why was I so helpless?

Why couldn’t all of this just be some horrid dream?

Shakily I looked at the plain room. Where was I? My heart skipped a beat. Was this a hospital? Had I finally been saved? Were Dazai and- No! I instantly withdrew the thought. No. I couldn’t take another trick from Fyodor and that ability user. I couldn’t. Even if this really was outside of that wretched place, I…just couldn’t fall again. I barely held on as it was. I couldn’t raise my hopes so high.

Any more and I’d lose everything. Although, was there really anything left worth saving?

Despair filled me and only grew as a hand squeezed mine, pulling my attention to a pair of familiar brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat. Dazai? Was it really…?

Before my mind could accept him, a horrid memory of his form melting into Fyodor’s cut through. No. No! This was another trick – an illusion. There was no way Dazai was here. That’s right, he was far away. Fyodor was trying to trick me again, to make me fall deeper. Why? I already gave him so much. He couldn’t possibly want more.

Tears finally formed only to fall as the illusion leaned closer in feigned concern, “Violet-cha-”

“No!” I yelled, pulling away like he was fire. I wouldn’t fall for this again. I couldn’t. No. Not again. Not again…!

Movement set off explosions in my nerves as he reached forward, my name never fully getting past his lips as I jumped back, “S-Stop!”

Panic clogged my lungs and narrowed my field of vision to the point I didn’t realize how small the bed I rested on was until it suddenly disappeared. My heart leapt to my throat and I braced myself for the cold ground. Maybe the impact would knock this illusion away.

If only it came as he swiftly lunged forward and grabbed my hand, saving me from the fall. And yet the alternative was so much worse as we landed with him practically on top of me and my head dangling off the side. My stomach churned. Oh no… No, no, no! He was going to-!

“Please…!” I pleaded, pushing at his chest vainly as tears trickled down my cheeks and I half awaited his demeaningly tender touch brushing them away. It was torture, and the endless despair made my voice raspy as I cried, “Please, Fyodor, stop…! I told you what you wanted, so please…!”

He flinched. Why? Was he that surprised I put up such pitiful resistance? Shouldn’t that make him smirk superiorly? Couldn’t he tell he already won? I couldn’t take this… It was bad enough he was going to have his way with me again, just give me the mercy of not seeing an illusion of Dazai…

“Fyo…?” he trailed off, furrowed brows blurring and disappearing as I covered my face, muffling sobs that hitched as he grabbed my wrists and forced my hands back. Jerk. I kept my eyes closed. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Well, he kinda already was watching up close but that didn’t matter. This small bit of control was a lifeline I wasn’t soon giving up.

“Violet-chan, please…” he almost sounded desperate; a mocking attempt to mimic the man I knew was far from this hell, “Please, it’s me.”

“Liar…!” I gasped out, shaking my head and thrashing beneath him.

I wasn’t falling for this. No. Not again. I wouldn’t let myself believe his lies. Why was he trying so hard? Did he enjoy twisting this knife into my heart? There was no point. None at all. So why?

His grip on my wrists tightened, and I think he was a little frustrated as his voice grew sterner. Good. No use in only one of us taking pleasure in this nightmare.

“Violet-chan, please believe me. I am Dazai – Dazai Osamu. You aren’t in Dostoevsky’s hideout anymore – we saved you! Please, you’re not in danger anymore. You’re safe!”

“N-No! I won’t let you trick me again! I’m not going to fall for your lies!” I yelled out, shoving against him and doing my best to buck him off. To my dismay he remained perfectly in place as I cried, “Let go! Let go, let go, let go…!”

I pulled and tugged at his grip. Maybe if I could free my hands I could do something – shove him off and run away for whatever good that did. He’d be angry for sure, but it beat this horrid tension. Maybe then he’d choose to chain me up and carve into my skin instead of where this led.

To my surprise, he abruptly let go. It took me aback so badly my eyes snapped open just in time to find the room disappear as he hugged me flush against his chest. Salty sea air mixed with smoke and alcohol flooded my lungs. How was it possible that he managed to recreate his scent so accurately? Well, not completely. Dazai didn’t smoke. It was yet another crack in the mirror that drove me insane as I pushed and clawed at his chest.

“Stop…! Let me go!” I demanded weakly, hearing him hiss as my fingers found leverage in his bandages and tore a few loose. It was all the opening I need to buck upwards, causing us to tumble over and off the bed.

Sharp pain shot up my arm as something flew up between us. I had no idea what it was and didn’t care. The impact sent stars in my vision, and my body screamed in agony as it abused my back. At the very least we spun over enough times that we landed with me partially on top. Unfortunately it seemed to trigger his vice grip as he squeezed me closer.

Cursing my luck, I squirmed, managing to glance at his pained expression. Why was he still disguised as Dazai? There was no point in keeping the illusion anymore. It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense…!

“V-Violet-chan…” he groaned, cutting through my despair as he cracked open an eye, “Please, listen to me. I know you’ve been through hell; that Dostoevsky played with your mind and hurt you. But please, you must believe me. You made it out. You’re not there. This isn’t an illusion. I am not Dostoevsky. I am Dazai Osamu – Tsushima Shuuji,” he whispered the name painfully, his eyes narrowing as he met my gaze, “Some part of you must see that.”

Yes, but I’d be a fool to believe it.

He grimaced, letting his head fall back wearily to sigh, “I will leave if it makes you feel better, but please…” His gaze met mine, a surprising amount of sorrow and silent pleading glinting like stars in his eyes, “Let me at least clean you up a little like you did for me in Icarus’ world.”

What? I blinked. I never told Fyodor about… Could this really…? Was I really…? It was impossible, and yet…

Slowly, I leaned back, my heart pounding as he followed smoothly, a small glimmer of hope surviving in his expression as I whispered, “Da…zai…?”

“Yes…” he breathed, mercifully staying still so as not to trigger me again, “It’s me, Violet-chan…”

My throat constricted. I really was out. I truly escaped. They came for me. It wasn’t another illusion or lie. They came. And this time they found me – they saw me.

With my last remaining strength I hugged him tightly, not caring if it made breathing harder or pressed against my aching body. All that mattered was that he was here – that he was the real Dazai. And I wasn’t about to let go anytime soon. As childish as it sounds, I feared if I let go he’d disappear and I’d wake up to that horrid room.

If that happened I don’t think I could take it.

Yet even then my sins haunted me. I broke. I gave into Fyodor’s torture. I told him so much – things he shouldn’t know. Things he’d use to harm them. Things that would spell the end of this world and everything I held dear.

Words that would destroy the man I clung to so desperately.

“I…I’m sorry!” I rasped bitterly, wishing for tears that long since dried up to bring some faint release. Instead all I could do was tremble like a helpless leaf in his arms, whispering over and over again words that would never erase my crime.

Erase all that was lost in that desolate place.

Dazai shifted and before I realized it he lifted me and climbed onto the bed, rearranging his grip to press against my head and back. Our position sparked cold terror in my veins once more, mirroring too clearly Fyodor’s assault and bringing back toxic memories that nearly made me puke. My heart pounded and I was seconds from tearing away from him when he began humming a soft melody.

I don’t know if it was a spell or something else, but it managed to pull close the logic I failed to grasp earlier. This wasn’t Fyodor. Dazai wouldn’t hurt me. No. Nothing but the purest sense of protection radiated off him. Nothing was going to happen. Not so long as those arms held me close.

At long last a bead of water gathered at the corner of my eye; it left a trail from which all that pain at last held an outlet to escape. I squeezed my arms around him, burying my face into his chest as he leaned over to grab a damp cloth to begin lightly dabbing at my stinging arm. His scent washed over in waves, cleansing the stains covering my body.

Within those waters, I finally found the first breath of fresh air in what felt like eternity. A breath I didn’t believe I’d be able to take again once he learned exactly how much I lost. Words that would destroy the arms that held me in tender protection.

Words that I allowed to fade if only for a moment in the presence of his warmth and familiar scent.

Notes:

An early update due to the impending chaos that is Thanksgiving week for my job. Still painful but baby steps for comfort. Say When by The Fray is a fairly good soundtrack for this section of the arc and slowly returning to my obsession list after all these years so don't be surprised to find those lyrics popping up in the upcoming chapters.

@Trancypancy: Aww thank you! It feels nice to finally move away from this arc even as its effects are long lasting. Violet needs some happiness and the ending of this chapter was like a fresh breath of air for me. She still has a ways to go but being able to write some peaceful moments feels so nice and relieving after all this time with nothing. And yes, I too adore the idea of Fyo speaking French~

@seneca: Aww, I feel that and those feels only grew when writing this chapter.
Yes Dazai was not happy with Fyo whatsoever and I can hardly blame him. After all, I feel like the past is an extremely tender subject for Dazai - both his time in Port Mafia and before then especially as he never brings it up (I think in the Light Novel Mori is the one to suggest a little about Dazai's past and even then is only speculating). Personally I think that may be due to some emotional/physical/psychological trauma he experienced, thus making an extreme adverse reaction completely possible if such was ever brought up - something Violet needs to take caution with and ideally learn from her experience with Yosano as she, like us, doesn't know the history of that name and its implications to Dazai.
Ahh, yes. In that scene it was more of a "I cannot let her die now because that would mean Dos won and she deserves better" reasoning than simply not wishing for her to die with him. In my eyes Dazai would not want to die with someone who he finds a possibility of them recovering and living onwards as his actions, while twisted and manipulative, do show some genuine concern and compassion in their own right. All in all, my thoughts in that scene were Dazai saying "We can die together, but not now."
Well, the Agency's confrontation with Grib was summed up in this chapter mainly because I felt that while important it was not explicitly necessary to go over it in detail. As for Grey, well he has his own reasons for wanting to save Violet that will be explored a little more in the next part of the series.
Haha there aren't many left, huh? Don't worry though, there will be quite a few cliffhangers but I do intend to wrap a few things up so the end of this part won't be completely painful.

@Thank you~ As you can see from this chapter they have a ways to go but finally they are taking steps forward no matter how small they may be.

Thank you all for the lovely words and support. Until next time~
If you're celebrating this week, I hope you have a wonderful time and spend it with the people you love ♥

Chapter 64: Blood and Tears

Summary:

The road to recovery is paved in blood and tears

Notes:

Warning: As the title suggests, not a happy chapter. No explicit stuff happens, just a lot of rather dark and depressing subjects.

Dark purple pools of motionless poison seeped into once pristine olive expanse. Their toxicity covered every inch all the way to the core. And while sunlight at last shone in small slivers of healing rays, it failed to pierce those inky depths.

Perhaps in time it would prevail, but for now all it did was illuminate the ghosts haunting my every waking and unconscious moment.

I felt horrible. I didn’t sleep at all despite how my body begged to. Is this what insomnia feels like? It’s horrid. And Dazai apparently had it? No wonder the guy wanted to kill himself… Maybe now he’d at last have someone to join him. Unfortunately the dark bags dragging my eyes down promptly excluded me from the beautiful part, but as things were now…

Dying with someone didn’t look so bad.

A heavy sigh left my lips. No. I couldn’t do that. Not to Dazai. Not to the others. Not to my family and friends – both new and old. Not after they went through literal hell to save me.

So why did it tear me apart so violently?

Sighing quickly turned into my new melody as I turned from the mirror and shed my thin yukata. Despite saving my eyes from the damage, it failed to help. I already knew. I could still feel dull pain all over. Still feel the burning of a blade pressed into my skin. Still smell the musky odor in the air. Still taste the rancid flavor on my tongue. Still feel his fingers tracing like icy tendrils over every inch of my skin.

Without realizing it, I hunched over on myself. As if that could honestly save me from the damage already done…

The lamentation continued, gaining new notes as I turned the shower on. Maybe its soothing warmth could do some good to this battered body. Water cascaded down, attempting to wash away everything. It succeeded in one aspect, but fell so painfully short in what I wanted. Minutes dragged on and my soaked hair lengthened to brush against my lower back. When did it get so long? How long was I gone?

How long did I manage to survive – if I could even call it that?

Mechanically, I reached over and grabbed the humble shampoo offered by the hospital and poured some into my palm. Its cool touch was like discovering something new and the off-yellow hue captivated my numb senses. It was weird. I’d seen the stuff many times, but in that moment it was different. Like I realized something.

Only a couple days ago, the thought of doing something as simple and mundane as washing my hair felt impossibly out of reach. I… I don’t think it even registered until then that I didn’t believe I’d make it to this simple task again. Or maybe even wanted to.

It was heart wrenching, yet all I felt in that moment was numb awe at the shampoo that began diluting from the water. Before it could seep from my hands, I reached up and shakily massaged it through my rough hair. It took all the effort of pulling a heavy cart for my weak arms to merely manage that task, but I persisted. I needed to get better. I needed to move on. For their sake if anything else, I needed-

“To confess, right? Do not fret. I will listen to all your sins, Violet…”

My blood froze and I forgot how to breathe as his voice and cold hands brushed across my shoulders and around my waist in a haunting embrace. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be here… And yet this is him we’re talking about. And I could feel his breath against my neck – his lips curving into that demeaning smirk that pricked the dark mark lingering on my shoulder with his teeth, his front melding to my back and…

“N-No!” I screamed, jerking away from the ghost. My feet slipped and before I knew it I crashed to the floor – bringing the bottles of soap, shampoo, and conditioner crashing around me. To my shot nerves they were gunfire that brought whimpers from my lips.

In a matter of seconds, the door burst open accompanied by Yosano’s alarmed voice, “Violet?!”

Shame enveloped me and whether it was tears or the unwashed shampoo, my eyes stung. Fresh bruises began forming but it was a distant pain as I curled in on myself and buried my face into my knees to hide from the doctor when she hastily approached – not needing bother to tug the curtain I dragged down with me.

This sucked. I couldn’t even take a shower without freaking out. Not even something that simple. No. He stole it from me, and it was in that moment that I realized just how deep Fyodor cut. He did more than rob my innocence and time. He took away my independence and life. And realizing that brought fresh sorrow and tears I’d only just managed to regain to come spilling out in painful sobs that tore at my raw throat.

They say the path to recovery is paved in blood and tears. They never said how impossible it was to walk.

In that moment, in the wake of my tragedy, words like that never rang so clear.

 

…

 

“Yes, while waking up is a good sign, the journey is only beginning for her. She survived what few others can even fathom. It will undoubtedly affect her moving forward but nothing that a little…”

The doctor’s murmurs along with Yosano, Fukuzawa, and Kunikida’s voices blurred. It didn’t matter. He already knew plenty about trauma and victims of abuse. Years in Port Mafia gave him extensive knowledge on that particular subject. More than he could ever want, yet now proving more useful than he first thought.

Dazai stifled a yawn. Sleepless nights were nothing new and yet last couple felt especially heavy on his body. The reason was obvious, and she barely got a second more of blissful darkness than he did. Nightmares tormented Violet each time she tried to rest, tearing her and the man whenever his eyes found the briefest edges of sleep back to the dark. Echoes of her screams and whimpers haunted his ears, and despite his best efforts in holding her hand, reassuring that it was really him, and soothing her with gentle murmurs and hums, the nightmares kept returning.

It’d be some time until they faded enough for her to sleep through the night.

Yet even then the light that shone so brightly that evening in the sun’s golden glow might never return.

Indeed, she barely blinked when the others greeted them that first morning – did not even flinch at their overjoyed cries. He did not expect much given the dark circles under her eyes, but given their close positions on the bed he figured she’d blush a little. It bothered him more than it should, and by Yosano and the others’ expressions they too felt the same, especially when she quietly obeyed their suggestions and his nudge to take a warm shower a couple of minutes ago without so much as a shred of her former self in those chillingly vacant olive eyes.

Dostoevsky’s torture was nothing to scoff about, and he could only imagine what she went through… No. He knew. And that made things so much worse. Perhaps that was why Ranpo was avoiding her room so avidly.

Muffled artificial rain sounded beneath their murmurs. A bit of a delay in turning on the shower. Disassociation? Given her expression and lack of sleep it wasn’t unthinkable. Yet the amount of time… Was it a good idea to leave her alone? Should Yosano or one of the nurses have accompanied her?

No. What she needed was a sense of independence – something in nonexistent supply within that hellhole. She needed to regain that feeling of control. Sure, it was a far cry from healing. But at the very least it should make things a little more bearable.

And perhaps bring back the light in her dead eyes.

“Dazai?”

Kunikida’s voice pulled his gaze to their stares. He wasn’t paying much attention to their conversation. Fortunately he gathered enough from their expressions and the general mood of things to predict the question they asked.

“Dostoevsky’s reach is far wider than the Guild could ever hope to attain. If he truly wishes to find her again, there’s very little chance we would be able to safeguard her – especially from a distance,” he reasoned with a yawn, “Given her ability and the information she holds, he will attempt to keep her silent whether that be through fear tactics or more lasting methods.”

His ominous note prompted most of his audience to shift uneasily, a spark of fire going through Yosano’s eyes clearly arguing she wouldn’t let the blonde die. And yet things were not so simple. When concerning people like Dostoevsky, they rarely were.

“Violet-chan’s best chances are to remain by Yosano-sensei. It does not guarantee her safety, but it does give her some odds of surviving,” he finished.

“That’s a relief,” the nurse sighed, “I mean it isn’t much, but at the very least she can recover with her friends and loved ones nearby.”

Recover? Dazai’s lips twisted into what barely passed as a smile that failed to go unnoticed by the rest – sobering their hopeful expressions. Their hesitant question seared into him as he turned to gaze out at the window into rather dreary sunlight.

“Don’t worry. Recovery is not impossible even for victims of torture. Be that as it may…” he subconsciously glanced down at his bandaged arms, “It leaves a very deep scar. Make no mistake, it will heal like any other if given the right treatment and time, but it will never fully fade. That scar will always be there and might pop up days, weeks, months, maybe even years after the fact without any previous incidents.”

“It is something she will have to learn to accept. That is, if she hasn’t already lost the desire to live,” Dazai finished, his tone noticeably different in regards to the topic that usually pertained him excitedly ranting like it was some reality T.V. show.

“If that is the case, then we will just have to help her find a new reason,” Kunikida answered in a soft yet adamant voice, “If Violet cannot see any future, then we will become her eyes and guide her until she can see that light once more.”

His resolve seemed to brighten the room, even Dazai giving a small smile his way. The words echoed like phantoms in his ears, and yet he held onto a small hope. Perhaps this time they would hold true. Maybe this time they would save – they would reach and connect with that shoulder and bring her back from the edge.

“Very well,” Fukuzawa spoke, leveling a powerful gaze on his subordinates, “Until the day Violet is able to locate the light with her own eyes, you three will serve as her eyes and guides. Holding the life of another is no easy burden, but as her comrades – her friends, we must uphold this duty to the best of our abilities.”

Kunikida straightened, accepting the job with honor while Yosano and Dazai nodded. All three were in perfect harmony. Sure, the task to keep her alive was impossible, but that was not their job. Instead, they would guide her to that light in hopes that one day she would not need their hands to walk in it, should that be her choice, once more.

“In regards to Dostoevsky,” the leader continued, eyes sharpening fiercely, “The Armed Detective Agency will-”

“No!”

A scream tore through the air, cutting off their breaths and Fukuzawa’s words. In a heartbeat, their tense forms snapped into action – Dazai the first to bolt to the bathroom. He nearly ripped the door off its hinges, thankful Violet overlooked the lock. Nevertheless, the sight that met him chilled his blood.

He knew no one could enter the room without first going through them. He set up precautions in case of an ability, and yet he almost hoped to see someone else in there with the blonde. That would’ve made it so much more bearable.

The only people in the steamy bathroom were himself, Yosano, and Violet – the blonde huddled in the corner of the shower with the small hospital bottles of cosmetics scattered around her partially draped form courtesy of the shower curtain. Her hair still bore bubbles of shampoo, but it was a fleeting observation to the heartbreaking sight of her bruised body that bore new injuries, one of which leaving a trail of red in the water that slowly flooded the floor.

“Violet?!” Yosano pushed past him, swiftly approaching the named who gave a broken sob as she buried her face further into her knees.

Dazai bit his lip, forcing himself to move and shut the water off while the doctor examined Violet. Seeing as Thou Shall Not Die failed to activate, she was okay. Well, physically. As for everything else…

The young nurse draped a towel over Violet’s shoulders, the blonde barely registering it or her wide brown eyes as she took in all of her injuries. She must not have been present when they initially brought her in. He could hardly blame her reaction. In her time in the hospital she’d witness many gruesome sights, but one like this…

It would certainly haunt her for years to come.

As for now, he quietly gazed over where Yosano at last managed to coo the woman out of herself and catch her in a tight embrace – exchanging her knees for the doctor’s shoulder. It was progress and yet the sight alone testified to the long road ahead. Something they all knew in painful clarity as he met Kunikida and Fukuzawa’s solemn expressions.

The road to recovery was paved in blood and tears.

In that moment, those words never rang so clear.

Notes:

Gotta love when storms knock out the power. Between that and Archive being wonky I didn't think this chapter was gonna come out in time. Thank goodness for a split second of signal. Hopefully it will last long enough for this to update.

@uwuscope: Aww thank you! And well, I wouldn't call this a break exactly but baby steps in that direction c;

@seneca: Haha well, I suppose this time around its a bit later than morning for you, but hope you enjoyed regardless. Yeah, she's dealing with a whole lot of things - this chapter really just brushing over the tip of it. Kinda feel bad considering I said there'd be more happiness coming and while this is better it still hurts to write, almost more now that the Agency members are here and witnessing it and feeling everything as well. Hmm, well they certainly have bonded a lot thanks to sharing their minds in Icarus' invention, but as you saw in the previous chapter there are things that have come between them and will eventually turn into things that they either address and move on or let fester and make this slow burn even longer. Such lovely options to choose from~

@Catami: No worries, and right?! It started off super slow for me but these past few months have gone by in the blink of an eye and I'm just here like: It's DECEMBER?!? Whaaa?
Fyodor and Violet's relationship in this is...complicated to say the least, but then I feel like anything involving Fyo or Dazai tends to be more than simple. I considered adding it in the Tags but hesitated and I guess decided not to for potential spoilers? I don't know, although it will likely pop up in the next part where we explore more of their relationship and the aftereffects of their meeting and interactions in this one. All I can say is at this point she presents a curiosity to him - not a major one as he is able to detach himself from her relatively easily, but enough to warrant his attention and consideration (see a few chapters back when he was walking away from Ivan and thinking about her).
Haha well, hope you're keeping those songs on repeat for this chapter as well.

@Chiara: Ah! Don't die! We're almost there, just a little further!

@Delasera: Yep, psychological stuff and mind tricks are definitely what I associate Fyo with - especially since I know from experience how rough anemia can be and bonded in this storm over the fact that both of us love black tea and drink it even though we aren't supposed to. "Let the world burn but I shall have my tea" is now my favorite quote of all time.
Yes, it is a long road which this part briefly touches on in order to set things up for the next part where more of it comes into play. Ahhh, I considered adding an extra fluff chapter inspired by Tale's current event but ended up only writing more angst. Gotta find a way to get out of it from writing so much of it lately. Thank you for the lovely comment! The fluff will come...eventually?

@Sian: Aww, no crying. It's gonna get better. Just a bit longer c;

@Kaylnn: Oh? That's impressive! Actually got me to read over the first few chapters and edit a few mistakes that make me cringe. Aww thank you! That's so nice of you to say ♥ I feel like tearing up from the praise.

Thank you all for the lovely support. Don't know how long this outage will last or whatnot but will attempt to update by next week - maybe earlier if I have the chance and finals don't kill me. Hope you all stay safe and warm in this lovely, amazing cold weather (or hot weather if you're in the southern hemisphere)~

Chapter 65: Festering Atrophy

Summary:

"You start to shake. You still haven't spoken, what happened?"

Notes:

Warnings: Triggers for traumatic experiences, depression, and assault.

Days passed. Or at least I think they did. My sense of time was distorted, product of staying underground for so many days I suppose. Did miners who were trapped experience the same disorientation? Either way I was too tired to think much of it. At least whatever medicine they gave me produced dreamless sleep.

Don’t think I could handle the nightmares that lurked in the shadows.

Fortunately they were kept at bay by the meds and near constant visitors. Everyone at the Agency took turns keeping me company – Atsushi and Kyouka recalling new missions and cute stories of them living together; Naomi and Haruno sharing nice meals and warm talks; Kunikida reading and going over logistics; Kenji bringing more games to play – this time with much better results now that we both could figure out the rules together; Dazai cheerily explaining new methods of suicide and other mischievous acts; Fukuzawa reading quietly; and Yosano checking up more often than not.

It was heartwarming to see them visit and actually understand them and yet at the same time it felt like I backtracked to how I was in the beginning. While I understood, I barely spoke. My throat still burned and staying awake for more than a couple of hours was tedious. Everything felt weighed down, some parts more than others, and I dreaded when our pleasant talks inevitably turned to more serious matters.

Ahh… I curled in tighter, pulling the blankets closer in mock attempt of security. Why couldn’t all of this just be a dream? Why was it so important that I tell them? Because anything involving Fyodor was important. Dazai said it a million times: the side with the most information prevails. He already had it, so in order to level the playing field I needed to speak. And yet…

Why was it so hard? Was that why he…? To make this nearly impossible?

Against someone like that, how could we possibly win?

He took everything from me. I wanted to bank on foreknowledge of him getting captured, but Cannibalism had yet to happen – heck it may never start. Fyodor now knew what would occur. Sure, I managed to protect a few details, but the overall summary of the arc was plain to him now. Maybe he already knew, but it didn’t change the fact that those events may never come to pass.

After all this time, the story finally changed. Who would’ve thought it would alter in a manner like this…

What do we do? What do I do? Everything was seconds from falling apart. It felt like the slightest of breezes would send everything crashing down. How could I stop it? Could it even be stopped? Why? Why was this happening? I didn’t know what to do. Nothing made sense. I didn’t expect any of this to happen. Heck, I long since abandoned the possibility of making it out of those tunnels alive.

And yet here I was, and for what? What could I possibly do now? It was all I could do to stay awake. I could barely walk and felt weaker than when I first woke up. Thought time was supposed to heal me, so why does it feel like I’m just getting worse?

Were we just delaying the inevitable? No one made it out alive after a confrontation with Fyodor. Who was I to be an exception to that? Maybe this was just a slow, torturous descent. Made sense with his cruel methods…

This was all too much and I felt so utterly drained… I didn’t want to think; didn’t want to move or do anything. Weariness pressed down relentlessly, and I let its black wings fold over and pull me into that black abyss.

 

…

 

It’s going to be okay.

A simple statement, a saying prompted by a desperate desire to hold on.

A lie through and through – one spoken far too many times, and prayed countless more. Because the truth always prevailed over lies. Because there was no way that was true.

Because there was no way I could possibly be okay right now, not when the moment I dreaded loomed above – thickening the air and intensifying gravity to the point I unconsciously hunched a little in the wake of those eyes looking on. They were by no means cold or oppressive, and yet the intent behind them terrified me for reasons I couldn’t begin to name.

Top of which being a festering fear of how those expressions would change after this.

A voice cut through the quiet, Dazai speaking calmly, “Violet-chan…”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Oh please, please don’t say it…!

“Breathe.”

He said it with no ill intent and yet the impact was like getting punched in the gut but in a good sort of way? I don’t know. Just that a larger than intended exhale left my lips and I felt ten times more weary than before. It sucked. I was already this on edge and we hadn’t even begun talking. How in the world would I possibly get through this?

“Don’t push yourself,” Yosano frowned, her hand descending on my shoulder as she furthered, “There’s no need to rush; we don’t have to do this all at once. We can take steps – as small as you feel comfortable with.”

A nice sentiment. If only my heart could handle that.

“N-No. I… I want to do it all now. Get it over with – rip the Band-Aid off in one go, you know,” I gave a weak smile, shifting beside her and trying to ward off the chills running laps up and down my spine.

She looked ready to argue but refrained, instead sighing and shifting back to sit beside Kunikida who had his notebook out and ready. Just the thing to quell a nauseous stomach. Geez. This was going to suck…

“Even so, no one here will force you to say anything that you do not wish to disclose,” Fukuzawa reminded in that gruff yet oddly reassuring voice of his, gaze still stern as he added, “While we wish to share in your burden, if your judgement deems it better to stand alone, then we will trust it. However, should it pose a threat, be that to the Agency, Yokohama, or yourself, please consider that a treacherous path is navigated far easier with a companion than by oneself.”

Very sage-like and fit right alongside my image of the guy. Still… If we were going on that logic, didn’t that mean I’d have to spill everything? No. I…I shouldn’t do that. I know, it’s stupid especially considering all I told Fyodor, but I just couldn’t shake this unease whenever the topic popped up. It was as if every time it did, a small voice whispered not to reveal anything. That the fewer who knew, the better – that the less people traveling this treacherous path, the greater odds of everything working out.

Yet one look at my current companion on that miserable road and one could easily see that that destination was already up in flames.

But would involving them make it better? Sure, they were trustworthy – a fact I knew and experienced first-hand. Their input would be beneficial beyond belief and a relief from everything and a source to vent to. But knowing all that was to come, knowing the truth that I did… That may just end up causing them to suffer more, right?

I gazed over at them, each so calm and ready to listen and yet… Could I add to the burden I knew they already bore? Was it right for me to have them share in this horrid knowledge that only brought me misery? Could I truly allow myself to subject them to the demon that tormented me?

The one whose icy hands trailed down my arms as that poisonous voice whispered in my ear over and over, “They will not understand. If you let them in, you are only adding to their suffering. Don’t speak, don’t think, just listen to me and do as I say…”

“Violet?”

A flinch rocked my entire form. Crap. Crap… Don’t think about it. It’s not real. Just a hallucination – a horrid byproduct of PTSD. Breathe. Just breathe…

“S-Sorry…” I weakly smiled at them, continuing before they could voice the concern on their features or Yosano end this already rocky conversation, “So, I suppose I should start at the beginning, huh?”

They all blinked, Kunikida the first to speak after clearing his throat, “Right. Well, first and foremost, while anything you may know is valuable, for the sake of your wellbeing, we will limit it solely to a single factor.”

Oh… Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that little denominator was…

Taking a breath, the blonde met my gaze with one so steady and strong I could only dream of replicating it as he asked, “What did you tell Dostoevsky?”

Good question. Horrible word choice. Indeed, before I could stop myself I tensed up, memories of those dark halls and a face that should’ve been familiar repeating those very same words. Bile rose, and my body quickly sunk into panic.

There was no way… And yet, considering how crafty Fyodor was… But that was impossible – Dazai made sure of it that night. Yes. This was real. This was not an illusion. I got out. I was safe. Breathe. Just breathe…

Meeting their gazes was not nearly as hard as keeping my voice steady and loud enough so they could hear even as they strained a little in their seats, “Sorry. He asked the same exact thing when he disguised himself as Dazai, so it kinda threw me off for a second.”

A frown marred their features but they remained mercifully quiet as I explained in a voice barely above a murmur, “It was a day or two before you guys came to the first hideout – or at least I think it was. Hard to remember when one day ended and another began. But, anyways, he used that guy’s ability to make him look and sound like Dazai and I- I just believed that it was really you and you’d come to rescue me and everything would be okay, but…”

Inhale, exhale. It’s okay. Everything will be okay…

“B-But…” Geez. I gripped the sheets tightly as I forced out, “But something was off. I think a part of me knew it from the start, but I just didn’t want to believe it. I wish I did. I should’ve trusted that feeling the moment it came up, but it wasn’t until later – until we talked about everything from meeting you all to…” I trailed off, shooting Dazai what I could only pray to be an apologetic look, “To O-Odasaku and other things.”

I expected some reaction, anything, but the bandaged man’s stoic expression felt ten times worse. Guilt surged and my cheeks grew warm in shame. This sucked. Rip it off in one go? Yeah. Easier said than done. We’d only begun and I already wanted to curl up and disappear.

“When you say other things, what exactly do you mean?” Yosano’s voice gently pulled me away from that abyss. A weak yet gracious lifeline in this dismal situation.

“Nothing much. Just some basic “get to know you” questions. Like he was trying to figure out stuff about me, which made sense in my mind at the time since before all of this we only really communicated through that sketchbook – something he was aware of as well, unfortunately,” a heavy sigh left my lips, failing to alleviate the weight slowly crushing me, “Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve really believed it wasn’t Dazai I was speaking to if not for the sheer dumb luck of him choosing a can of spicy tuna from that cabinet. Although I suppose my realization wasn’t as well hidden as I thought since he saw through my escape with ease.”

“Anything stand out in that moment?” Kunikida inquired.

“No,” I shook my head, attempting to shake away the memories rising as well, “He cornered me, I called him out, and the illusion dissipated. It was horrible, to say the least. He… He was always there – more so than any of us realized…”

Turning, I met Dazai’s gaze briefly before the chagrin and pain grew too much that I lowered it to my clenched hands, “The night Dazai went to retrieve Q with Chuuya and you all locked me up in the safe house…”

I felt them wince, but didn’t allow them to speak up as I forced myself onwards, “He was there – only he disguised himself as Dazai, which was probably why Kenji and the others on watch let him through.”

“So he was that close all this time…” Yosano murmured.

Giving a small nod, I added, “He said it was a trial run of the ability, and also to see what exactly it was that the Agency was hiding. It was also the moment that allowed me to connect the dots and know who really was “helping” me at the time.”

“How so?”

“Because…” I murmured, looking at my palm, “When I touched him, it felt…different. Like my energy was being drained. It’s…weird. I mean, I should have died – his ability could and should have killed me and yet…” I exhaled, shaking my head as a small realization drifted past my lips, “Maybe that’s a reason why he took me away…? I don’t know…”

Silence fell, and for once I was grateful for the chance to settle down – back feeling like an overly strained wire fraying at the edges. It was fleeting, but nice. Enough to let me recover as much as I could before Dazai spoke up, bringing us back on track of this hell of a discussion.

“When we shared minds, I saw some of your memories. In them, there was a study of sorts, one owned by a relative of yours,” Dazai began.

“Huh?” I blinked. It took a little bit to understand what he was saying – my mind still not comprehending the fact that we did in fact share minds what, two weeks ago? It felt like eons, enough to stall my thought process and leave me stuttering, “Oh, yes. You mean my uncle’s house.”

What was he getting on? Did he find something in that place? What? I hadn’t visited him in years thanks to the craziness of university life. Even then, there could be anything worth noting. Well, maybe aside from how gorgeous the place was and the fact I spent nearly every waking moment in that study thanks to the wonderful-

Oh. Oh. This is not good.

The revelation must’ve shown as Dazai frowned, narrowing his eyes as he continued, “Those books you read – the ones you specifically asked him to bring – they all bore names of ability users and their abilities.”

Without needing to look, I felt the others’ shock that only made me wince and curl up uneasily as the bandaged man finished in a somewhat callously determined manner, carnelian eyes blazing, “If that is true, then let me ask you this: Was Dostoevsky’s book among the ones you read?”

Aka did I know what Fyodor’s ability is, and, if so, what is it? Geez. These guys seriously don’t pull their punches whatsoever…

“No. Yes. I-”

Don’t speak. Don’t think…

I bit my lower lip, forcing out the words, “I…don’t know. I mean, yes, his…book was among my uncle’s collection, but…”

Geez. I knew this was going to happen, but to have it occur in such a blunt fashion… How do I even go about this? I can’t just say they were all fictional characters based off of real authors (or at least real ones in my world) whose most famous works transformed into their abilities. It’d drive them insane if they didn’t immediately reject the crazy notion at once.

Something they appeared to war with as Yosano, Kunikida, and Fukuzawa frowned and darted their gazes between Dazai and I. Thank goodness we decided to make this a small discussion. One silver lining in all of this, I suppose.

“Books? What do you mean?” Kunikida asked.

Oh Lord. How in the world-?

“Violet-chan’s uncle held a collection of books including ones with our names and corresponding abilities on them,” Dazai’s explanation felt like nails scraping down a chalkboard. However, before I could scream, he continued with a sidelong glance at me, “They were products of his ability, if I’m not mistaken – ones he collected in his study and Violet-chan read in her youth.”

“I see… That would explain how she knew about us before meeting us…” Yosano murmured as a dark note passed over her expression as well as the others’.

Guess they were realizing if that was the case then that also meant I knew some of their less innocent moments – a reality that was sadly true as I tore my gaze from their hesitant looks. This really did suck. Although I suppose if anything Dazai saved me from having to explain the sticky situation. Only thing was…

Did he believe that himself? Or was this a final lifeline he was throwing my way as payment for everything before?

“Then the information Dostoevsky targeted was that of the contents of those books,” Kunikida posited only to frown, “But in that case, would it not be easier to go to your relative’s residence and steal them?”

“Perhaps, but they would only be able to reveal the past. And as advantageous as that is in the hands of someone like Dostoevsky, its value diminishes upon us knowing what he is aware of,” Dazai rebutted, “No. The best option in that situation is not to target what can only reveal so much, but rather that which can speak not only of the past but the future as well – the author, or rather, the illustrator.”

“My dear, what merit is it to hold onto the pages of a manuscript when its lovely creator is right before me?”

Yes. You’re right. You’re so utterly right. And yet there was no way Fyodor knew about my uncle and those memories because I never told him about them. They were moments and information reserved for the Agency. And yet…

None of that mattered since he knew the contents of their stories all the same.

“Your very presence will become their downfall, mon belle fleur…”

“Violet…?!”

Yosano’s gasp pulled me from those suffocating memories enough to feel what must have been tears streaming down my cheeks I halfheartedly rubbed at to no avail as I rasped out, “Yes… Yes… That… That i-is what he said as- as well…”

I scrunched my eyes, unable to stop the flow of tears as I continued painfully, each word shoving me back into that horrid chamber and beneath those haunting eyes, “I- I’m sorry. I was supposed to- to protect your stories. But… But I failed, and now…!”

Now I’ve doomed them and everything they loved.

The quiet was broken by weak sniffles and sobs I couldn’t contain, and Fukuzawa’s soft voice as he murmured, “That was a burden neither you nor anyone but ourselves should be forced to carry. You have nothing to be ashamed of Violet. No matter what, we will be okay.”

Words that were supposed to be comforting but felt like a knife – a lie painted over in a faux promise I struggled to accept for formalities sake but could not for the life of me.

“N-No…! It’s not o-okay…!” I argued weakly, praying they understood the full gravity of the situation, “The things coming… You- They- They will push you all past your limits. They’re uncontrollable and dangerous and bad and only worse now because of me…!”

A few more cries escaped during my speech, pulling me lower and burning my throat that constricted painfully in beat with those icy hands coiling around me.

Not my fault? Please. Everything was going to hell because of me. Because I couldn’t hold on. Because I caved. Because I let him…!

“Violet-chan,” Dazai’s voice broke through the anguish, granting some strength to peer through my fingers and meet his solemn gaze as he asked, “One last question: Do you know where the Book is?”

God. I shook my head, feeling their sudden spike in tension dissipate alongside the remainder of my already spent energy. This was horrible. Completely wretched. And to think I had the gall to say I could handle it all in one go… Please. I couldn’t even say the worst crime that took place, instead falling onto the bed and pulling the covers over my head in whatever flimsy protection they provided.

All the while, memories returned. Ones I desperately wanted to disappear. Ones that haunted me and stopped time. Ones that made me want to curl up and just not be here anymore.

Memories of that damp room, of the suffocatingly thick air, of cotton sheets sticking against my skin. Of teeth sinking into my shoulder in beat with a much more horrid reality; of our forms slotted together and my body treacherously arching into him…

Those toxic violet eyes glinting in the dim light. Those hands that left behind a map that still lingered on my skin for everyone to see just how far I fell. To see my failure and weakness. My tragedy and sin.

“Violet-chan…?” I flinched at Dazai’s gentle touch, hating the knee-jerk reaction and tears springing to my eyes.

They needed to know. They were going to find out later anyways if they didn’t already know. Just tell them. Get it over with. Rip the Band-Aid off. Tell them what you lost. Tell them what was taken. Tell them what they were too late to stop…

“I… He…” my voice kept breaking. Why? This was already hard enough. Why couldn’t I just say it? Because it made everything that much more real.

Curling in on myself, I forced the words out barely above a whisper so they had to strain to hear, “He took everything from me. I-I tried to stop him, to- to be strong, but…” Tears spilled over as I barely got out, “I wasn’t strong enough and- and he… I let him ra-”

No. I couldn’t do this. I can’t do this. It was too much. Too horrid. Too terrible. Gosh. All I wanted was for this to go away – to disappear like a dream. Why? Why did this happen? Why wasn’t I strong enough to stop him? Why couldn’t I fight a bit longer?

Why did I let myself get raped by him?

Something broke. Surprised that a small piece of me wasn’t completely shattered. Well, it was now as I curled in so tight I nearly couldn’t breathe. Not like the tears and snot helped in the matter. Everything shook and it took a second to realize that it wasn’t an earthquake or explosion, but me.

I heard that confessing the truth made it easier to take, but this was ten times worse. Instead of softening the blow, it ripped the wounds open and rubbed salt and vinegar into them. Phantoms of his fingers pressed along my hips, ghosts of his lips against my neck, echoes of his voice crooning in my ears, lingering sensations of nauseating warmth sticking to my legs haunted me.

Instead of freeing me, the truth threw me back into that hell, locked the door, and threw away the key.

Notes:

Did I say that all the depressing chapters were done? Sorry. I lied. There's two more. But then I promise that's it. Or at least I think so. Well, for this part at least.

Late update since things are crazy here but hope you all enjoy.

@MisuSan: Aww that makes me so happy to see someone excited for something I wrote. Hope the delay was not too bad c;

@uwuscope: Well, it's certainly not easy and this chapter as well as the next one makes that abundantly clear. But as I mentioned before, ideally they should be the last really rough ones. And yes, trauma is a difficult thing to surpass.

@Catami: Ahhh, sorry about that, and Frozen probably will help in this one as well (I saw some clips of the second one and squealed - maybe one day I'll have the time to check it out).

Until next time~

Chapter 66: Say When

Summary:

"They're gonna push until you give in or say when."

Notes:

Warning: Mentions of suicidal thoughts and depression

The clock ticked onwards, impartial to all in its march. None were spared its reign, and few could foresee its path; even less could prompt it to turn back. Perhaps in this world such an ability existed – one that could wind back the clock.

How convenient that would be right now…

No. Messing with the past was no viable or even wise option. What happened happened. There was no point in looking back in lament of what could have been. All they had was the present and future. With enough effort and luck they could pave a brighter way.

Although, at the moment, that felt like such a long ways off.

Yosano sighed. Their meeting with Violet the other day ended…well, ended just about how she expected it would. The action of reliving those atrocious moments proved harmful for the blonde’s mental health in a way that made her regret not fighting the notion more before. Be that as it may, they needed that information.

Still, was it truly worth it? Could they really say such could not wait until later? Sure, time was of the essence, and yet it felt callous to have her recount those moments. While there was a chance she would recover better after hitting rock bottom, it did not alleviate the pain of hearing those heartbreaking sobs nor the revelation of the doctors shortly after.

A finding that only made things that much worse.

Violet wasn’t getting better. No. Rather the opposite was occurring – her condition deteriorated to the point she was worse than when they first brought her in. Much more than mere psychological atrophy, but real decay.

A poison was literally deteriorating her from the inside out. One Dostoevsky injected her with before allowing them to rescue her. One that the doctors were able to identify its existence but not form an antidote for. One that would slowly finish the demon’s work.

One that would torment them as they watched her die after all they went through – after saving her from his clutches only to realize in the end it was futile.

A heavy sigh left the doctor’s lips as she let her head rest on the back of the chair, face tilted toward the ceiling as her eyes shut – pain depleting by a minimal amount. On the one hand, a piece of her was thankful for Dazai’s level thinking in preventing her from fully healing all of Violet’s wounds with her ability and thus sealing in the toxin. And yet, on the other hand, what purpose did that really serve? Sure, it bought them some time, but who was to say this all was not just another layer meticulously planned out by the mastermind?

There were countless poisons in the world – even more in the making and hidden from public knowledge. They held days, weeks at best for a task that demanded a minimum of years to fully unravel. Logically they should employ any and all help they could surmise, and yet hesitation buzzed along her skin.

Should they involve him once more? Was it truly wise to be indebted to him even more?

No. Not yet. They still had time – time they would use in the fullest to analyze this poison and save her without his aid. They had to. She was their responsibility. They would not let anyone else take that role.

But at what point did their pride have to fall for the sake of her survival?

A frown tugged her lips as Yosano sat upright, determination flaring in her eyes as she once more dived into the files and results on the screen. That scenario would not come to pass. She would not let it get that far. She was a doctor – a healer. This was her very life’s work. She could not, would not fail.

Tapping of fingers on a keyboard filled the void, magenta eyes fixed on the screen and instruments scattered around it. An odd dance of the chair sliding and twirling from one position to another – continuing in a patternless rhythm that came and went like the tides miles from the hospital. As the clock ticked onward, melody fading into the background only to break at the sound of the door opening.

Even then, her focus remained steadfast, only breaking upon a paper bag cutting in front of the computer screen and thus effectively blocking out the data and numerous tabs it held. Yosano blinked, glancing up to meet calm, rusted brown eyes and a small smile as Dazai leaned on the table.

“Stare at that screen for too long and you’ll go blind, you know?”

She raised a brow, taking the offered bag, “Not unless I stay here for weeks on end, I won’t.”

Her response prompted his lips to quirk up slightly, and as if in agreement with his position, her eyes suddenly began to sting. She frowned, rubbing at them gently even as a few tears began forming, “I haven’t been here that long, right?”

“No. But you have been all day and almost into tomorrow,” he responded, plopping down to sit in the chair beside her so that his arms folded over its back. His level gaze remained steady even as he rested his chin on his arms and smiled at her shock, “I figured you could use a little break. No use sprinting in a marathon.”

“I suppose you have a point,” she sighed, reaching into the bag and retrieving the box inside, “Thank you, Dazai.”

He hummed in reply, allowing his eyes to rest as she began eating – only truly noticing her empty stomach upon the first bite sending waves of almost painful flavor flooding her mouth. Luckily it did not last and she was able to enjoy the food in a comfortable silence with the man. By the time she finished, Yosano let out a content sigh, and thanked him once more for the meal.

It certainly helped reenergize her spirits and mind, yet before she continued, that nagging doubt resurfaced. She’d been here for almost a day straight. Instantly a pang of regret for not visiting Violet weighed heavily on her. She would have to visit in the morning. No use waking her after Dazai apparently only just managed to help her fall asleep.

“I take it President is with her now?” she began softly.

Much to her surprise, the bandaged man shook his head, “No. He left a few hours ago. Likely to see someone who could help. I would not be too concerned – both for President and Violet-chan.”

“And what if Dostoevsky saw this coming and sent someone in to harm her?” Yosano frowned, stress levels rising at the mere thought of the man sneaking into the blonde’s room and reigniting the nightmare once more, “I thought we arranged for there to always be at least one of us there to prevent that possibility from occurring.”

“Calm down,” Dazai replied, the stern underlying note in his voice working wonders as the doctor found herself obliging if only a little, “While those arrangements held value in the past, they are no longer necessary. We’ve passed the point of the possibility of Dostoevsky or one of his Rats coming. Why expend the effort when her nightmares provide enough torment as it is?”

She shivered unconsciously at his cold expression, small smile freezing long before reaching his gaze. Indeed, it was shocking in its detachment and reflection of that man’s. She supposed it only made sense given his upbringing in Port Mafia. Be that as it may…

Would things have been different for him if she had not accepted that offer all those years ago?

Guilt rose, forcing her to look away from him – reality suddenly growing unbearable. Be that as it may, she forced herself to murmur, “Do you think we will make it in time as we stand now?”

Should we ask for Port Mafia’s – Mori’s help once more?

Quiet descended; thankfully the bandaged man was perceptive enough to catch the underlying question, and his lack of an immediate reply was both reassuring and chilling. He too considered that option, and his hesitation spoke volumes on how he shared her fears and growing desperation. Fortunately, if anyone could calculate the risk and see if it outweighed the benefits, it was him.

After all, even as their inherited traits from the man came from his different professions, they were both students of Mori – a man who upheld logic first and foremost not matter what.

At long last, a sigh broke the silence, beckoning her attention as Dazai shifted to lay his head back in his arms and murmur, “Let us wait and see what lead President is chasing after. Perhaps that help will bridge the gap. If not…”

If not, then we will have no other choice.

Dread mixed with resolve, forming a combination that would make anyone puke. Nevertheless, Yosano gazed at the brunette for a few moments longer before sighing and returning to her work.

If she could identify the poison and find a cure, then all their fears and doubts would be put to rest. It was a slim chance that would take a miracle to pull off.

Then again, angels were known for achieving just that. Even those borne of darkness and death.

 

…

 

Nothing mattered.

That’s the grim reality of things, is it not? No matter how hard one tries, in the end their efforts are merely a breeze passing over a lake – felt in one moment, forgotten in the next. Sure, an argument could be made that that light breeze set in motion events that would create a catastrophic storm or soothing wind on a hot summer’s day, but in the moment how could anyone know if all of that was nothing more than wishful thinking?

Nothing mattered, because no one knew.

No one understood – and that was the worst part of it all.

Isolation became my prison. It was that deep, cutting one that sunk into the very marrow of my bones. Yes, a part of me rationalized that I was far from alone; that the Agency members were with me but it did not feel like they were – that they understood this torment.

How could they when we belonged to different worlds? When none of them experienced this torture? Sure, they might be able to relate, but right now…

That was simply not enough to quell the pain and isolation.

A task of which I held a remedy for – a way that would certainly end it all for a price I once felt too steep to pay yet now looked completely reasonable.

But could I truly do it? All it would take was a simple repositioning of the I.V. needle and it would all be over. Simple and easy. Just a moment’s pain, and then that ever growing weight of sleep would take me the rest of the way. It would be easy. I certainly held enough anatomical knowledge to do it, just…

Was this the right thing to do? Was putting them in this pain for the moment actually going to save them from more in the future? Could I take my own life? Would it really spare theirs?

They say those who go through with suicide hold no hope at all – that that is the defining factor of what determines the end of that action. In that regard, I suppose even after everything he went through, Dazai retains some hope no matter how small it may be. However…

Could the same hold true for me?

My hand trembled from where it held the needle. Breathe. This would all be over soon. Just let everything fade. Allow those phantom hands to guide yours so they hovered over your neck. Don’t pay attention to the sharp prick. Just breathe. This would be over soon. Everything was going to be okay…

But would it?

My hands shook precariously, as if my very body was begging me to reconsider even though I long since decided on this course. It was the only way left for me to help them – the only path that protected the remaining secrets I held. The only one that would end this nightmare.

Even at the cost of bringing them so much pain.

Holding onto that resolve, I pressed the sharp point against that haunting mark, hearing echoes of his voice rumble against my skin. His form took shape, sinister and daunting as his violet eyes narrowed with that demeaning smirk. Like he was the one controlling my hands, orchestrating everything down to this very moment.

A fire growled to life. No. I would not let him prevail. He stole so much from me, almost everything I had. Indeed, all I held now was my life, and I would not let him take that from me as well. My life was all I had left.

And I would take it before he had the chance to steal it.

Adrenaline fueled me forward, pressing the very tip of the needle into my neck – ready to finish everything only for the sound of the last thing I expected to freeze me in my tracks.

Soft sobs cut through the silence, prompting my head to snap up to where a figure hunched over just across from me on the floor. His tan trench coat glowed like a bronze flame in the moonlight drifting in, giving him an almost divine appearance. One that took a backseat to the silver tears glistening down onto the motionless figure he held in his arms.

A person bearing my features, only her skin was much paler and crimson coated her left shoulder and neck.

Off to the side, by the doorway, a shattered plate and some food littered the ground, painting the story with a clarity I did not need. What was this? A vision? Was this what was going to happen if I…?

“I’m sorry…”

His voice struck hard, prompting me to flinch as his arms squeezed my body closer as he rasped, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I should have stayed with you. I…”

I should have grabbed your hand back then…

His thoughts drifted through, wringing my heart that only frayed apart upon Dazai shifting so that his tear stained features were in plain sight. It was heartbreaking, to see someone so strong breakdown in tears. Enough to bring tears to my eyes.

No… I… I didn’t want this. This…

“Dazai…” I whispered, reaching out to him, “No… That’s not…”

The moment my hand should have met his shoulder, his form along with my lifeless one disappeared. It threw me off, disorientation growing as another voice sounded. This one perhaps just as if not more heartbreaking.

I turned to find Atsushi and Kyouka before a grave – the despondent whitehaired teen on his knees, crying into his hands. No words could describe the weight of sorrow that only grew as other members of a black clad Agency stood behind him. Each bore an exhausted, sorrowful expression – their regrets, pain, and sadness radiating through me as I looked over each.

It was terrible, and for a moment I thought it could not get any worse. How wrong I was as I peered at the headstone, only then noting that the name etched upon it was not my own.

Dazai Osamu.

What? N-No! That’s not-! Dazai? Dead? That’s…!

Kunikida stepped forward, action surprisingly dull on my numbed senses as he stood before the grave of his partner, “You always brought me nothing but trouble and work, so I suppose this time is no different. I cannot say I approve of your choice, however…”

The blonde man lifted his gaze skywards, tears beginning to trail down his cheeks as he rasped, “After losing her, I suppose it is only to be expected you would want nothing more than to reunite as soon as possible.”

What? He… Dazai committed suicide – actually went through with it – because of me? That’s… No! That can’t be…!

“Violet,” I jumped at Kunikida’s voice, expecting him to stare through me like all the visions before had concluded only to see his face still staring upwards as he whispered, “Please take care of that waste of bandages, okay? He truly did care for you, you know?”

Something clattered to the floor, but it was distant as tears poured down my cheeks – pain in my chest becoming too much to bear as my shaking hands rose to cover my face. The damns broke, sobs from the vision becoming my own as I curled over and wept.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t end my life. Not when it brought so much agony to them. Not when it led them to that path.

Not when it cost Dazai his life as well.

All of that could have just been a product of my mind – a last ditch effort to deter myself from ending it all. If so, it worked. It worked so horribly well. I couldn’t kill myself. And yet…

What of this torment that only increased upon hitting the lowest of lows? What of this crushing loneliness that still remained? What was I to do now? What fate awaited? Would it be better than that nightmare? Or worse because I could not bear to face it in reality?

“Violet!” The sound of footsteps rushed my way, quickly followed by a hand wrapping around my wrist, undoubtedly seeing the blood from removing my I.V. and thus sparking a gasp, “You…!”

Oh, here it comes… I tensed, ready for an earful from the guy. A lecture about how stupid I was for doing this. Of some logical reason or whatnot or something about stealing his limelight. And yet, much to my surprise, nothing of the sort came. Instead, I found that grip fade, giving way to a heavy sigh and his form plopping down next to mine on the cold floor.

Time passed as he let me get the worst of it out, his presence far more soothing than I thought possible. Guess he was the brains of the Agency… Still, I always assumed emotional matters were foreign to him. Guess there was more than meets the eye.

“I’m sorry.”

Huh?

I blinked, pulling away from my hands to glance at Ranpo as he grimaced at the floor, “I have been avoiding visiting you since you have woken up. I guess I was…scared to see what other scars you gained from Dostoevsky.”

Oh…

“D-Don’t worry,” I got out, shaking my head and taking a breath to reassure, “You see beyond the surface of everything. Coming to the room of someone like me… It would be like walking into those very tunnels yourself, so… I do not blame you for keeping your distance.”

“No, that all is just excuses…!” Ranpo snapped, shaking his head before pinning those beautiful emerald eyes on me, “Avoiding someone purely because of a subjective reason like that is unacceptable and…” he grimaced, turning away, “Incredibly childish and selfish of me.”

Ranpo…

“Still…” he sighed, brushing his fingers against my injured hand, “I am glad you chose not to go through with it.”

My heart wrung. Geez… I wasn’t expecting this for a while later. Certainly not moments after the fact and from Ranpo of all people. Tears reformed and threatened to spill as I wiped at my eyes and nodded, not trusting myself to say anything. In response, he awkwardly pet my hair. It was cute, almost endearing coming from him.

“I’m sure that is what Dostoevsky planned, so seeing you overcome this means we’re taking steps forward – as small as they may be.”

Huh? What Fyodor planned? What was he…?

I met Ranpo’s gaze as he breathed out heavily before clarifying, “After going over everything and seeing you now, I don’t believe that man plans or even expects you to stay alive. Therefore, it is imperative that you do everything to survive, as hard as it may be right now.”

Survive? That was how we would prevail over Fyodor? It was so simple that it bordered naïve. And yet… Maybe he was correct. Even then, saying and doing something were two vastly different things. I mean, how could I even say this would not come again? That the temptation would not rise once more? That the loneliness would not completely crush me?

As if reading my thoughts, Ranpo murmured, “Life is not easy. It is full of pain – that’s probably why we enter it crying. Still, we are not alone in this. Humans, by nature, are social creatures – we rely on groups to make it through those painful times. And even though you are far from normal, that fact remains in that the Agency is here for you.”

He turned, facing me with resolve in his eyes as he furthered, “We are no strangers to pain, that much you are aware of, right? And while we cannot fully understand what you went through, we are capable of empathizing with the isolation and loneliness you feel. As much as it feels like you are alone, remember that you are not. Don’t allow your feelings to overcome the reality around you.”

Everything he said made sense, and yet my nod still felt numb. Maybe because I was exhausted? I don’t know. Everything felt weighed down. Even thinking was a terrible burden on my consciousness.

“Violet,” Ranpo prompted my gaze back to his, “It is okay if you cannot think rationally now. Allow yourself time to recover. Until then, I will think for you, after all,” he gave a small smirk, “That is technically my job.”

Despite everything, I found a small, almost unnoticeable chuckle rise at his typical hubris. Still, it was odd… His words did not prompt those flashbacks like before when I spoke to Dazai, Yosano, Kunikida, and Fukuzawa. Maybe because he was so different from Fyodor? Either way, it felt nice.

Like recovery was actually a possibility.

Taking a breath, I let my head rest on his shoulder and murmured, “Okay… Thank you Ranpo.”

He hummed in response, shifting so I could lean a little more onto him as he replied in typical Ranpo-fashion, “Just know that by the time you get better, you will owe me two weeks’ worth of sweets.”

A smile formed; a miracle as I let my eyes close after nodding. Peace descended. Sure, the nightmares may return the moment my consciousness faded, but… I didn’t believe they would this time. Call me dramatic or wishful, but hearing Ranpo’s words and how he worked up the courage to come gave me some faith in getting through this.  

A small speck of light, of hope appeared in that abyss. And maybe, just maybe, it would prevail.

Notes:

Okay, I swear this is the last really bad chapter for a good amount of time. Also, soft Ranpo melts my heart and I hope the same effect holds true for some of you as a small reward for surviving the darker bits of this chapter.

@Sian: OMG I LOVE IT ♥♥ You are perfect and I adore it and ahhh ♥ Violet looks so happy and after everything I think I teared up when I first saw it (before proceeding to show my roomies and all my friends how amazing your art was). Thank you so much! You are amazing ♥

@Catami: Heh, well I do plan on doing something for Christmas but we'll see if life is kind enough to allow it. As for the pain, I'd like to think of this as more of a Christmas Carol-like story that starts off scary but gets better in the end? Idk, but things should be getting a lot easier from here. I think there is still one more bumpy chapter but it is far lighter than this one.
Ahh I keep seeing more and more clips and the urge grows everyday. Lol Olaf is never a bad thing. I find him cute and funny and, well, after this chapter a good relief.

@uwuscope: Yeah, it definitely took a toll as you could probably tell in this chapter. Actually a really hard one for me to write considering I deal with depression myself. Kinda had to take this chapter in strides which may explain why it can seem a bit jumpy at parts. Still, recovery is finally coming along, so with hope the future will be better.

@seneca: Exactly, which is something Yosano touches on and hopefully shows that the Agency was aware of the risk but took it in good faith, or, well, good intentions. Still even the best intentions fall short at times. As for Violet in the situation, I think she wanted to believe it would help and to catch them up to speed with things but it backfired big time. Can't blame the girl for trying but at the very least she is going to finally get some rest.
Ahhh, I'm so sorry. I know its painful as all hell (heck, it was torturous to write and I almost did not finish in time), but I felt it necessary to at least put these details in rather than pass over the entire process - which sort of happens between parts, hence this is the tiny bit of pain we must endure in order to avoid all the other falls in between. Hope you managed well with this rough one, but better things to come.

Chapter 67: A Sword That Heals

Over a year passed since the day Atsushi first stepped foot in Yokohama. It was frankly surprising that much time passed – feeling like only a few days at some points. Although there were times when it felt like months and decades passed him by. He supposed everything balanced out in the end to make up the time living in the bustling city.

Be that as it may, for all his familiarity with the streets and its nook-and-cranny hideaways and more audacious buildings, never would he have imagined the structure standing before them. It was unbelievable. And if not for the others eyeing it as well, he’d have thought himself hallucinating. Given what they went through the past few hours alone…

Well, anyone would go crazy, right?

If only it was that simple…

Dichromatic eyes swiveled rightwards where his mentor maneuvered out of the car, arms careful in retrieving a form that made his heart twist. Atsushi grimaced. He resented his tiger qualities many times, and the ride over nearly topped that list. While the others were spared by traffic and the noises common of driving, his hearing keenly picked up her weak, raspy breaths through it all.

And by Dazai’s almost too neutral expression, maybe he did too. Not surprising. He held her in his arms the entire journey – from her hospital bed to now.

In front of a temple-like structure a good ways outside of the city. A place that appeared out of time yet equally aweing. Somewhere that evidently held meaning to their leader as he gazed stoically up at the building before giving a rather heavy sigh. Why? What memories lingered here? Were they unpleasant? But then, why bring them here?

Such questions… He couldn’t direct them to their leader, not with the obvious underlying knowledge he held yet refrained from telling them. And yet curiosity ate away at him. Fortunately, another should be able to answer those questions, right…?

“Don’t waste your breath,” Atsushi flinched, sidelong glance widening as he turned fully toward Ranpo who continued, “Kunikida’s probably been here before, but even then I doubt it. This place…” the detective looked over at the back of their leader, “Is probably somewhere President did not wish to return to.”

Huh? The teen tensed even as his superior continued past him – following President, Dazai, and Yosano inside the structure. What did he mean? What were they going to face inside? What horrors awaited? What price were they about to pay? Could they even afford it?

“Let’s go,” Kyouka murmured, nudging him forward with a calm look.

Giving a deep exhale, he nodded and they took up the rear, entering to find…a hot spring lodge?

Dichromatic eyes widened – not along among the group that peered in surprise at their surroundings. Why would President lead them here? How was this supposed to help Violet? It couldn’t possibly be as simple as a soak in hot waters. If that was the case, then why move them from the hospital? Surely there had to be something more.

“Good afternoon, honored guests. How may I be of service to you?”

They turned to find an older woman draped in an ornately patterned kimono, her silvery locks held up with a simple hairpin whose flowery decoration swayed as she approached. Could it be that they were not seeking the waters but a person? But this woman looked completely normal. Atsushi frowned, unless… Did she possess an ability?

President stepped forward, addressing her with a stern frown, “Where is the priestess of this shrine?”

Priestess? Shrine? He hasn’t heard of those in the context of the present in, well, in anything aside from history books and lore he happened upon during his days in the orphanage. He supposed it was not too much to believe they still existed in society. But even then, could such a person really help where experts in healing both in the ability field and the traditional one fell short? Indeed, what did President hope to accomplish here?

“I am afraid Nakano-sama is currently un-”

The sound of bells cut her short, catching all but President off-guard as a voice spoke up.

“It’s alright, Kumiko. I have been expecting these people for a while now,” Atsushi blinked, following the voice to its source.

Red flowers and butterflies decorated pearl-white robes that dragged on the ground behind a woman who could only be described as beautiful. Indeed, her long raven locks rested freely on her back – two strands pulled to her front and bound by crimson crossed white bands. In her left hand, a collection of bells were arranged into a handheld item. What was it called? A Kagura bell?

“Although,” he glanced up, noting with a small wince how her lips curled in amusement at his attention before returning to their normal state as she observed their leader, “I must say, I did not expect for you to actually come. Tell me…” she stopped in front of the swordsman, “To what pleasure do I owe this unexpected visit, Yuki-kun?”

“Yuki…” Yosano murmured with a dumbfounded expression common among them as Atsushi finished, “…kun?”

All eyes pinned the grey-haired man who appeared unfazed by the name spoken so casually. Indeed, his typical stern expression remained well intact as he stared into her rose eyes.

“You should know without me saying anything, Keiko,” President responded, ignoring their raised brows that only heightened at his response.

Keiko? Atsushi felt his cheeks warm. They spoke so casually to each other. Could it be…? No. That wasn’t possible, and yet was that not just his personal view of President? Surely he too was capable of finding that in another…

How exactly did these two know each other? How did they meet? And, more pressingly, what happened to create this buzzing tension that made the hairs on his arms stand up? Was this the tiger’s sense? Or… He glanced at Dazai, finding to his growing unease the man’s fingers pressing a little firmer against Violet. Did the others catch on as well?

“You want my help, and given your restlessness, you’ve exhausted all your other resources,” she narrowed her eyes, raising an arm so that her long sleeve covered her lips as her voice took on an icy tone, “But what makes you think I would freely give that aid? Or even give it at all?”

Huh? Atsushi tensed. Could it be that they weren’t friends in the past but enemies? But the way they were looking at each other earlier and how they spoke their names so casually… Could that all have really been an act? No. Something was up. While his knowledge on President was indeed minimal at best, he gathered enough to tell that falsities were not something he easily employed.

However, there was no denying the way his expression grew sterner and how his fingers curled around the base of his sword only shot the tension in the room up further. Atsushi shifted, ready to protect Dazai and Violet the moment that frayed wire snapped. He would not let any harm come to the blonde. Still… Would it truly come to that? Would they really break out into conflict here?

“President…”

Despite being barely above a whisper, all eyes shot toward the source of the voice – Atsushi’s hairs bristling a little at the sudden hold on the rising tension. It felt like holding a glass whose contents were a mere twitch away from spilling over. The slightest of movements terrified him of explosive consequences, and yet familiar solace lightly rested on him when he met those olive eyes.

Eyes that managed to retain their brilliance even after all she went through.

 

…

 

Everything felt numb, like I was floating on the clouds. My cheeks were warm, and I was fairly sure I had a fever or was close to one. And between my swaying legs and Dazai’s heartbeat and warmth, sleep threatened to overtake me. Fortunately, we arrived in time for that not to be the case. Don’t know if that makes me upset or not.

Especially in the wake of sharp rose eyes boring into me from someone who rivaled Kouyou in beauty and prowess despite the luxurious robes and kimono she donned – their design elegant yet hinting toward a rather spiritual style. A priestess perhaps? But why? Did they even exist anymore? I suppose this world was far from ordinary, but even then…

Who was this? Where even were we? I knew we were a ways away from the hospital from how chilly the air felt (maybe somewhere up north or near some mountains?), but how long we drove and where... You’d have better luck asking a blind person.

Regardless, I gathered enough from their less than cheery conversation that this woman was just as if not more dangerous than Kouyou – and there was no chance that I was going to allow Fukuzawa or anyone get hurt trying to help me.

Squeezing Dazai’s arm in a silent meaning he thankfully got, I bit my lip to keep the groans at a minimum as he carefully set my feet on the floor. Shakily, I came to a weak stand majorly reliant on his form providing some stability to as I clung onto his sleeve. My legs shook precariously, and for a moment I thought I’d pass out from the simple act of standing. Fortunately, by some miracle my mind stayed clear enough to meet the woman’s eyes.

“I… I won’t allow you to harm President or anyone in the Agency,” I rasped out, gritting my teeth if only to keep the pain at bay, “W-We will find another way to cure this poi-”

A bout of coughs abruptly rose, a scourge to my throat and entire being as pain overwhelmed everything. Faintly, I heard Atsushi gasp my name as Dazai quickly shifted to support my trembling form that nearly broke apart from the coughs. Slight pressure from a hand descending on my shoulder indicated Yosano jumping to help even as there was nothing to be done. A metallic taste filled my mouth, all the indication I needed to know without looking at my palm the blood that coated it.

Damn… Time really was running out. But I couldn’t give up. Not now. Not after promising Ranpo I would fight to survive. Not when I knew where my death would lead.

“Are you certain you will even make it back?” the woman spoke, eyes swirling in an emotion my mind was too hazy to pinpoint, “You appear to be on Death’s door already.”

“Well…” I rasped, each syllable threatening to make me cough more, “This is not the first time I’ve been in a situation like this, and it won’t be the last.”

Silence lingered as she merely stared at me. In any other situation it may have felt uncomfortable. However, compared to those red-violet eyes… This was nothing at all.

“Why? Why go so far when it will only lead to your prolonged suffering?”

Why? Well, the answer was far more complex than words could hope to catch. Even then, I inhaled.

“Because, there are still things I must do,” my words rasped out, scratching against my throat and threatening to send me into another coughing fit. By some miracle I managed to avoid that, but the strained expression I must’ve shown was a weak win.

So much for putting up a strong front. Regardless, it didn’t matter much considering we weren’t staying around. Not if it meant agreeing to whatever sketch deal she clearly wanted. How ironic. It seemed like every somewhat religious figure in this world was far from pure intentioned…

Pulling myself up on Dazai’s sleeve, I readied my body to stubbornly walk out on my own two feet only for a light chuckle to stop me before I even began. What was it? I glanced at the woman, finding her eyes scrunched in amusement. Was she making fun of my frankly pathetic show of strength? Please. As if her opinion actually mattered enough to get me to stop.

“You really know how to find the most amusing children, don’t you Yuki-kun?” she lowered her arm at last, revealing a pleasant smile.

It was odd in how off-putting it felt, or maybe that was how the nagging sense of trepidation vanished with her action, replaced by a mild curiosity as she pulled from Fukuzawa’s sigh to look at me once more.

“Come, let’s get that nasty poison out of your system,” she held out a hand.

Huh?

“You- You’re going to help us?” Atsushi blinked in the same level of surprise I felt, maybe more since everything was beginning to feel a bit hazy.

“Of course. If I let someone who I held the ability to help walk out and die, I’d surely suffer for it in the afterlife,” she easily answered, “Besides, Yuki-kun would never forgive me if I turned you away now – and that’s something I’d actually rather not see come to pass.”

“But didn’t you say earlier that you weren’t going to help us?”

“Huh?” she tilted her head before adding with a small chuckle, “Oh, I never said that I wouldn’t help. Just that it would not be for free.”

And that’s why this whole thing reeks of a set up. Riddled talk and unspecified costs? Yeah this was screaming a bad idea, and yet before I could object, Fukuzawa spoke up.

“What do you want?”

The priestess smirked, mischief growing in her rose eyes as she covered her lips once more, “You need ask?”

Silence fell. What did she mean? What price was she asking for? A favor? I mean, if these two knew each other in the past that meant she knew Fukuzawa was an assassin. Was that what she wanted? For him to take care of someone for her? No. Having him kill someone was not in-line with the story or, frankly, his current profession. It was too risky; far too much to warrant whatever aid she supposedly could offer.

If only I could voice those thoughts as Fukuzawa sighed, “Very well.”

What? Why was he agreeing to this? Sure he knew her, but who’s to say she hadn’t changed? Why were we trusting her? Was this really our only option?

The woman smirked, but before we could do anything, she reached forward and grabbed my hand, gently tugging me forward. Whoa. Who was she to think I was even remotely okay with this? No. I wasn’t going with her. They couldn’t strike a deal if she couldn’t keep up her end.

A growl rose as I prepared to yank my hand from hers, only for a tender touch to rest on my shoulder and prompt my eyes up where Dazai smiled softly, “There is nothing to be worried about, Violet-chan. You can trust her.”

Huh? Trust? Was that what this was? Was I reluctant to trust her? Duh. Anyone would be… Right? Or was this yet another residual effect? Dang… Talk about depressing… And yet, if Dazai said it was okay…

“Don’t worry, Violet,” Yosano added, coming up to support my other side, “I will come with you, if that is acceptable to you of course,” she ended with a look that practically challenged the priestess to object.

In response, she gave a bemused look while replying casually, “Of course. Although any more people will make things difficult, so I advise that the rest of you make yourselves comfortable. Kumiko, please lead them to the rooms we set aside earlier.”

Set aside earlier? Did they see this coming? This really wasn’t good. They knew more than they let on. This was a bad idea. We shouldn’t be here. This was bad. Very bad…!

“Violet-chan,” I blinked, unable to keep myself from flinching as Nakano spoke in a soothing manner, “Everything will be alright. You have my word, no harm will come to you or your companions.”

And why should I believe you? I bit my lip. No. This was just a nasty side effect of torture. She was not a bad person. Sketch, yes, but maybe not enough to deserve my mistrust. Geez… I took a breath. Who would have thought this would be so challenging?

Giving her a slight nod, I let her and Yosano lead me away from the others, resisting the growing urge to glance back at Dazai. No. I needed to start standing on my own. I couldn’t keep leaning on him and the others. Sure, their help was always appreciated, but I had to be able to stand on my own two feet.

And maybe this was the first step to achieving that.

 

…

 

Chills traveled along my bare skin, juxtaposing against the warm, fragrant air surrounding us in thick clouds emanating from the rather large spring at the heart of the shrine. It was honestly impressive if not a bit off-putting. But that may just be the dark, almost black purple waters.

Or maybe the fact that they only turned that color after Nakano added some herbs mixed in with the blood she gathered after she and Yosano worked on opening the more nasty wounds I bore. Ones the doctor miraculously hesitated on using her ability to heal.

How odd. Did she expect something like this to happen? Or was it really just pure dumb luck? I mean, she did apologize after I first woke up about not healing me all the way. At that time it was merely precaution that turned out saving me from sealing away whatever poison lingered in my veins. I suppose it also worked out in that Nakano didn’t have to use her small blade to create new ones. God… That would have only pushed me over the edge more than they already did in cutting them open again.

Another stab of pain shot up my arm as the priestess worked on the last, and probably worst wound to my hand. The very one Fyodor made when I first found myself in that hideout. It was jarring, and I think I sunk a bit further into shock as I barely reacted physically – something only deepening Yosano’s frown as she spoke up.

“Is that all?” her terse words were somewhat touching in the fact she was concerned for me, but I wholly agreed. Sure, my mind was retreating to protect itself from the looming nightmares, but there also was the fact that the blood freshly dripping down from multiple wounds was not a good thing for anyone.

“Yes,” Nakano thankfully nodded, wiping her blade with a cloth before sheathing and storing it in her sleeve once more. She gave a weak smile, “Forgive me, Violet-chan. My ability has some rather…unpleasant prerequisites.”

Well, at least it was reassuring to see she wasn’t taking any pleasure in bringing me harm.

“Do-Don’t worry,” I smiled weakly, hoping I sounded more reassuring than I looked. I think I was shaking, but it was hard to tell when every nerve in my body was either numb from shock or screaming in panic.

She held my gaze for a few seconds longer before sighing and coming to a stand, directing Yosano, “Help me get her into the waters.”

And here comes the hard part. Oooh boy. Nakano explained her ability on the way here. Apparently it was called Scattered Petals and allowed her to amplify attributes of herbs and plants to where desired traits were augmented and less desirable ones faded or even ceased to exist. It was rather impressive; almost a perfect complement to Yosano’s as, in order to effectively use its healing properties, she required her patients to open up their wounds so the solution could freely interact with them.

Unfortunately, if washing your wounds with peroxide taught me anything, this was going to be far from a pleasant experience.

I think I must’ve gripped their hands a bit too tightly, as Yosano soothed, “It’s alright Violet. This is going to hurt, but it will help. I’ll stay with you until it subsides, alright?”

“O-Okay…”

Geez, so much for reassuring. Ahhh. I took a breath, preparing myself as best I could for this final agony. Just breathe. Everything was going to be okay. Breathe. Only a little pain, and everything would-

Searing acid scourged my foot as I dipped it in the water, instantly finding a hiss escape my lips as I instinctively pulled away. Everything was going to be okay? Please. That burned. How were we certain this wasn’t just going to kill me? I mean, merely putting my foot in there felt horrid – and they expected me to soak in there for hours? Geez… Just kill me now…

“Easy there,” Nakano advised, “Take it slow. If you go to fast you may end up sending yourself into shock.”

Yeah, but at least then the pain wouldn’t be so bad, right? Ahhh…

I nodded, not trusting my lips to do anything but whimper. Geez… This was going to suck…

Slowly, I allowed them to help me into the waters – each millimeter feeling like a marathon as it burned every fiber of my being. Guess I had the extra potent herbs to thank for that. Geez… I had to fight against everything in me not to jump out immediately. It was a miracle I hadn’t already, one largely thanks to Nakano beginning to tell a bit about how she and Fukuzawa met.

Evidently the two met in their youth while learning the art of the sword thanks to a couple of government representatives passing through and taking note of their skill while they were in the middle of a training session. It was impressive, especially considering what I knew of Fukuzawa’s skill. And to think that she matched it? Although I suppose she was able to reopen my wounds with virtually no unnecessary pain.

Nevertheless, that fateful meeting led both to aiding the government, setting Fukuzaawa on the path of a bodyguard while Nakano remained in the village, explaining how she was set to inherit her family’s duty as a shrine keeper at the very place we now stood. It was impressive if not a bit lackluster. I mean, didn’t she want something more than simply following in her family’s footsteps?

Nakano shook her head, “No. I never resented my family or the duty we bear. I think that the only thing that truly upset me in that moment was Yuki-kun’s choice to aid the government.”

“H-How so?” I grimaced as water lapped at my waist.

“Well, for one it did not suit him whatsoever. Yuki-kun’s temperament was, how shall I put this, not so warm and welcoming. He scared off a bunch of kids in the village with just a look and ended up being called the “Demon Wolf” of the village. Having such a personality in the government was hardly a productive thing, so why would they want him? It all felt wrong to me,” she confessed with a small smile, “But Yuki-kun wouldn’t have any of it. He insisted on going, even when it meant leaving. He assured me our promise would remain intact, but I knew even then that the moment he accepted our vow was broken.”

Huh? Vow? Did she mean…?

“Were you in love with him?” Yosano asked, following my thoughts step for step.

Nakano simpered lightly, “Perhaps, but that was decades ago. We were different people back then. Yes. Back then he was much darker… But I digress,” her chagrin dissipated as she turned her attention on me, “What interests me is how you came to get so many wounds.”

My heart skipped a beat and bile rose in my throat. Geez. I guess it was to be expected, but still…

I felt Yosano tense, ready to protect me but I managed to speak up before her even as I had to look away from them and my voice was barely above a whisper, “That’s… They…”

A gentle hand came down on my head, followed by the older woman’s soft voice, “Forgive me. I did not intend to bring up such horrible memories. I suppose that even if the fire is able to mold a sword into a stronger weapon, it burns all the same.”

Very poetic, and very true. Ahhhh…. At least she didn’t want to pry any further. I don’t think I would be able to take it even as the ice from recalling snipets of those times effectively blocked out the burning that now consumed my shoulders.

At long last they released their grip, letting me settling into the dark waters. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. Hopefully they would think the single tear falling from my eye was just another bead of sweat. It really was unbearably hot, but I suppose I would get used to that as well in time.

“What made you chose to be a healer over a swordsman? I mean, if you really were a match for President, then that made you really good, right?” I murmured, trying to return to the topic that brought us the least pain.

She paused for a moment before answering fondly, “I suppose even before discovering my ability I always held affection toward healing others. Maybe it was from patching Yuki-kun up so many times? Who knows?”

Oh? That sounds quite nice…

“I see… It suites you,” I murmured, letting the stinging gradually fade to warmth. It was like an ice bath – horrid at first but not so bad once you become numb to the pain. I suppose that meant it wasn’t good but then this was a bath full of healing herbs rather than freezing ice.

Not to mention the floral and earthy scent was becoming more and more soothing alongside the amber glow of the candles in the foggy room.

“Perhaps,” Nakano murmured, pulling away to add, “Rest now, Violet-chan. The poison in your veins will slowly be drawn out and purified by these waters. Remain in here until they turn clear, alright?”

I hummed, too tired to speak in actual words.

Thankfully it was enough as she turned and left, informing me that the process would take some time and that she would send someone to check on me every now and then – to call if I needed anything. Sure. Sounds good.

I exhaled deeply, resting on one of the warm stones. It felt so relaxing, completely different from before. Maybe it was from the blood loss and poison? Who knew. If anything, these waters felt nice against my aching body and I allowed them to pull me into a state of relaxation.

After everything, I think I deserved that much.

Notes:

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Wonderful Wishes for the Holidays!

I have to run to work so forgive the rough draft of part one of the gift.

As for part two, you can find that here

@IcePrincess: Ahh yes it does contain quite a bit of spoilers, but I try to keep it within the timeline the story is currently in (at least for explicit ones) while others are vaguely mentioned and generally align with the second or third most recent chapter.

@Moondreamer: Aww thank you! Haha I realized from the start that my use of 1st person POV was not going to be a popular one, especially with the addition of an OC main character. Still, I am glad you enjoyed it. And lol careful make sure to eat and sleep some as well. I hope that you will enjoy it as it goes as well c:
Aww thank you! I try to add small details and elements when I can because I personally just find them so fascinating! Seeing how things connect is a wonderful feeling I hope you and all my readers enjoy as much as I do. ♥

@Sian: Aww thank you once more. It truly means a lot to me and I'm glad you're enjoying the series. And yes teddy bear Ranpo is the best ♥

@Jaylynn: Yes Ranpo sweetie is the best~ And no worries, she is getting help slowly but surely!

@seneca: Ahh sorry, rough chapters be rough and in a way it was an alternative timeline. But fortunately one that she won't be traveling. And yes, I found it interesting that in all these scenarios it is Ranpo that pops into my mind as being one of the first/best people for her to talk to. I suppose it's because I find his character to be so honest and that helps especially in the situations Violet finds herself in. Not to mention that, like you said, he is similar yet very different from Fyo and Dazai.
Well, it's not Christmas, per say, but it is a gift. One I hope you enjoy. I was planning on making a Christmas one but the one I had in the works contained too many spoilers, so maybe later c;

@uwuscope: Yep! And boy is it going places. Don't know if all of them will make it into this series, especially as it is almost to the point where everything changes, but will see. Aww thank you. It's painful but I'm glad you like it ♥

Happy Holidays once more to you all. I wish you all the best as we head into this new year~

Chapter 68: Cleansing

Summary:

Let the waters wash and cleanse the poison within...

Jasmine mingled with earthy herbs dancing in a warm glow of gentle candlelight. Perfect solace and peace abounded – strong enough to fool anyone into believing they were resting in paradise. Not surprising. For a shrine, this spring definitely rested at the top of my list even after the less than gentle beginning. Considering it was a short one, I suppose that didn’t mean much, but when you also factor in why I soaked in near boiling water in the first place and how I managed to remain calm, it evens things out.

Steam rose in thick clouds over the surface of purplish-black water. Water that would somehow magically turn clear once the poison seeping out with my blood was cleansed. Again, don’t exactly see how that’s possible but didn’t dwell on it too much. Kinda just wrote it up as another one of those ability things that were better to accept than think too hard about At least now my lungs grew accustomed to the thick air and I could breathe a little easier.

Surprised? Well, don’t expect too much. A little over two weeks passed since I woke up in the hospital, enough time to let some nightmares begin to fade. Enough time to reassure Yosano that I would be fine by myself. After her set jaw and blazing eyes at helping Nakano reopen all my wounds, I figured she needed some air and maybe a drink. Anything to let her take a break from this horrid reality I hoped one day I could move beyond as well.

Ahhh…. I dipped deeper, waters stinging the back of my neck and cheeks. It hurt, but like the rest of my body I knew it would dissipate in a few minutes and leave behind the scalding yet soothing waters.

Warmth wrapped around me protectively, and I leaned fully on the grey stone and closed my eyes. For the first time in a while I felt relatively safe. Shadows and nighttime still unnerved me; sleep laughable as every time it came I dreamt of that horrid place. And yet now with the myriad of candles illuminating every inch of the room it felt welcoming.

Once again, amazing job for this place.

Maybe now I could finally get some real rest…

Blackness ate away at my vision. Don’t worry. I kept moving my fingers to retain that last semblance of consciousness. Heard enough stories of people drowning after falling asleep in a bath. Not really my intent to follow after. Please. How horribly ironic would that be? Survive torture from arguably the most deadly person in this series only to fall asleep in a spring and drown. No thank-

“Enjoying yourself?”

Instantly the steaming water turned icy, stealing my breath. I turned sharply, heart racing as a pair of menacing eyes glowed back at me in the darkness that slowly pulled away to reveal Fyodor – his features partially hidden behind a fox mask. His typical attire changed into a simple light grey yukata adorned with small red poppies.

This…this couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real…!

“You- You’re not real…!” I rasped, staggering back as he smiled wickedly and approached.

Not even bothering to undress, he entered the steaming waters that slowly died a sickening red from his touch. What was happening? My heart pounded dangerously fast and I could barely breathe. He was getting closer by the moment and- No! I shook my head violently, hoping to dislodge these hallucinations.

This wasn’t real. This was just another hallucination. Another horrid nightmare. Just focus. Focus and wake up. None of this was real. It’s just a dream. Just a horrible, horrible dream…

Without warning, my throat constricted jarringly. Familiar fingers squeezed tight, forcing my eyes open to meet Fyodor’s only inches away. A strangled cry left my lips and I desperately scratched at his arm to no avail. He chuckled at my struggles and raised his hand. Out of instinct to alleviate the pressure, I pulled on his arm until I was able to wrap my legs around his waist to push up.

Geez. Why’d this have to be the only way not to suffocate? I say that as if he actually relented. Instead, his eyes gained a manic glint as he wrapped an arm around my lower back to keep me steady.

“Perhaps, but you certainly believe I am,” he leaned forward until the blood red waters began consuming the edges of my vision. Crap. Crap. Crap.

My heart beat erratically, threatening to stop as I gasped and took in flecks of water. So much for not drowning. But how was this even happening? Wasn’t this a dream? But nightmare-Fyodor said I believed he was real. Don’t tell me… Was this some Nightmare on Elm Street lucid dream?

I needed to wake up pronto. But how?

Time trickled away, just like my vision as Fyodor pushed me under. The last thing I saw was his vile smirk – his thumb almost tenderly caressing my cheek. Before the murky red consumed everything I heard him whisper malevolently.

“Sweet dreams, Violet…”

 

…

 

Worn wood creaked beneath his steps, creating a soothing melody that transported him back in time. Back when things were far simpler and the world much smaller. What would it have been like to be born in such times? Would he still pursue an ideal death or find solace in the simpler times?

Dazai hummed, melting the idea of living in a feudal era with the hallways of the Crimson Lotus Shrine – rounding out his examination of its layout and passageways. Sure, President appeared comfortable enough with settling down here for the time, but he required at the very least a basic floorplan of the shrine-turn-onsen. He needed to know his way around just in case…

A heavy sigh left his throat as the bandaged man slowed to a stop, folding his arms into the sleeves of the burgundy haori given to him by the establishment. Over two weeks passed since they stormed Dostoevsky’s hideout. Two weeks of nothing from the man. He should be grateful for the respite, for the time they had to regain themselves, and yet…

Images of Yosano’s bloodied hands and livid eyes rimmed with tears lingered at the forefront of his mind. She relayed Nakano’s instructions that called for the opening of Violet’s wounds so that the medicine might heal the poison in her veins. By the sheer amount coating her arms and torso, he held a sickening idea of how strenuous the process had been. The unfortunate blonde must’ve bitten her lips bloody for Atsushi not to have heard her…

Faintly he recognized his tense jaw, shifting it to alleviate the pressure. If only he paid more attention to Mori’s medical textbooks during his tenure with Port Mafia. Maybe then he could have prevented the painful remedy. One that rubbed the wrong way against him.

President clearly trusted Nakano enough to heal her and keep their presence hidden. They shared some past – that much plain to see in their initial meeting at the entrance. Obviously they met before his fateful encounter with Mori, but how far? What prompted them to meet? And what caused them to leave with such underlying bitterness? Betrayal? Broken relationship? An impossible choice?

Whatever the case, it obviously held a strong base for them to work together. That or Violet’s infectious ability to bring out the best in everyone she crossed paths with prompted Nakano’s change of heart. At least some part of the young woman survived after her ordeal…

Was she okay now? Yosano explained that she insisted she was fine and to get some rest. But was she? He of all people knew how self-sacrificing she was. How much she cared for others to the point she neglected her own wellbeing.

Carnelian eyes narrowed as he turned and headed in the direction of the spring. No. There was no way she would be alright. Not alone. Not only a couple weeks after escaping Dostoevsky’s unspeakable atrocities. The woman could barely sleep for a couple of minutes without waking up in a cold sweat and breathless. Even when he or another Agency member managed to soothe her back to bed and remain with her, her sleep was fitful at best and heartbreaking at worse as the dark circles under her eyes grew with each passing day.

Did the poison invigorate them? Or were they yet another layer to Dostoevsky’s plan to have them watch her slowly break before their eyes – helpless to do anything as she fell apart? Dazai grimaced. No. They wouldn’t allow her to die. Nakano’s medicine would work and, with time, Violet would move forward. Just like she always did.

And he would be by her side the entire time until she was able to sleep soundly by herself.

Reaching the door, he hesitated. Common public courtesy screamed at him to stay outside, yet another part of him reasoned he could easily peek in soundlessly, check on the blonde, and return before she even noticed. It felt a bit wrong, but better than disturbing her.

Ever since waking up, she failed to conceal the lingering wariness of him – the all too evident fact that she recognized what he’d known for years now…

Dazai shook his head, banishing the rising resentment toward the mirror ability user and Dostoevsky for planting those doubts in Violet’s mind. Taking a breath, he silently slid open the door, pausing as his mind warred with the idea of announcing himself before settling on a soft call.

“Violet-chan? Are you alright? It’s Dazai.”

Silence followed, drawing out to the point he frowned. Did she not hear? Or maybe did not feel up to talking?

“Do you need me to get you anything? Some water, a snack? This place serves pretty good mango sticky rice,” he offered, stepping in further in case her voice was still raspy.

Once more silence only broken by faint ripples of water answered him. Yellow flags rose. Even if she did not want to talk, she would certainly respond or at the very least say so. Was she ignoring him? Or…did she fall asleep?

“Violet-chan? I’m coming in,” he spoke with more determination.

Careful to create a little noise so not to startle her, he closed the door and entered. Clouds of white steam filled the room, displacing and distorting the candlelight. He supposed it could also be called soothing, but the nullifyng effect it had on not only his sense of sight but also smell made him uneasy.

An emotion that spiked as he gazed over cloudy gray waters broken here and there by dark grey stones – none of which harboring the young blonde. Where was she? He picked up pace, looking behind the few rocks yet still seeing no sign of her. Where was she? Did she get out? Did she have to use the bathroom? Or-

He stopped short as something caught his attention, making his hairs rise in beat with his heart lodging itself in his throat. The cloudy water concealed most of her features, but it failed to hide her silhouette and golden locks that teased the surface sparsely broken by a few small bubbles. Time felt frozen as his mind swiftly caught up to reality, muscles tensing as his throat began to burn.

Faint sounds of bubbles popping suddenly brought everything crashing down, setting his blood ablaze as Dazai yelled, “Violet!”

Not wasting a moment, he tossed his haori to the ground and dove into the hot waters. Instantly scalding pain assaulted most of his body and where a few droplets hit his cheeks – only worsening as he sucked in a breath and dove under. Whatever herbs melted into the waters now stung his eyes that narrowed to mere slits as he swam downwards. The spring was deeper than he expected, and for a moment he feared his burning lungs wouldn’t make it.

No. He refused to waste more time. Who knew how long Violet was like this? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? His heart sank yet adrenaline gave him a second wind strong enough to reach out and grab onto a small wrist. Pulling with all his might, he yanked her into his chest and kicked upwards and back to the shallower portion of the spring.

The moment their heads broke surface, coughs filled his ears – his heart fluttering in relief upon recognizing they were not solely his. Heavy coughs shook her small form as Violet weakly held onto him, or rather rested in his shaking grip. The heat reddened her skin, yet apparently held some benefit to her wounds that no longer bled.

Be that as it may, it all felt distant in the numb wake of everything screaming in his mind and his far too loud heart not even her raspy voice could remedy, “D-Dazai…? What are you…?”

Dazai held her close, exhaling in efforts to calm his erratically beating heart. Did she just attempt submersion? Why? No. That was plain enough. Anyone who survived torture, especially at Dostoevsky’s hands – especially to the extent he went – would at the very least develop some degree of depression and desire for an end. And added with her sleepless nights…

He gave a bitter smile. Of all the ironies… Here he was, a man who openly proclaimed a desire to commit suicide, now shaken so thoroughly by the attempt of another. A beautiful woman at that… Chuuya would certainly be upset with him. And yet while he desired that abyss, the thought of it consuming her chilled his blood.

Out of everyone in this world, he wanted her to live onwards.

“Dazai?” Violet’s voice was much clearer, her olive eyes peering up at him from where his arms held her head against his chest. She looked concerned and a tad confused – that nagging flicker of fear still prevalent.

It wrung his heart, to see her lingering trepidation of him. Was she doubting his identity? No. Dazai blinked as a clearer answer summoned a self-conscious blush that heated his cheeks in unison with hers as they came to the same conclusion: While his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin, hers remained starkly bare and pressed against him intimately. He prepared to swiftly set her aside and turn away only to falter at the sight of a deeper, still bleeding wound on her waist sending spirals of red to the surface.

A wound that filled his ears with Dostoevsky’s cruel laughter and her pleading screams for help that would arrive too late.

Before he could stop himself, he tugged her closer – prompting a small, almost cute squeak from her lips. He let himself chuckle if only to prevent her from immediately realizing how his arms still trembled, “How cruel of you, Violet-chan. You know suicide is my quirk. Perhaps you could try cooking or ice skating. They are much more beautiful ambitions to pursue, you know…?”

Violet blinked, observing him with concern. She picked up on his unease quickly, enough for him to silently praise her progress. For a moment he thought she’d ask if he was okay – a silly question they both knew the answer to. Yet when she finally did part her lips, those words were nowhere to be found.

Resting her head against his heart, she murmured, “Okay, I’ll try that…”

They remained that way for a little longer, just enough so that he regained control of his shaking limbs and racing heart, and could breathe easy. Well, as easy as inhaling this thick air was.

“Thank you, Violet-chan…” he smiled softly, prompting her weary eyes open as he shifted to leave her in peace once more. It was clear she was not attempting suicide. No. She must’ve simply fallen asleep or wanted the bliss of nothingness for a few seconds like he sometimes did whenever swimming in large body of water or taking a bath.

Nevertheless, he made note to send someone to watch her, especially now as she looked seconds away from passing out. Not to mention he was fairly certain that the blackish waters were a product of an ability now that they were a much lighter grey, almost clear in their transparency. He needed to find Nakano and hope that they didn't need to start the entire process over again for her ability to work.

Turning, he went to exit the spring only to find his steps jerk to a stop – water slapping the edges of the spring from the sudden action. Blinking, he felt her lithe fingers wrap around his wrist as she spoke with a hint of urgency, “W-Wait! Don’t go!”

What? He stood still, keeping his gaze forward even as she added meekly, “Please…stay here. I don’t want to be alone…”

Somehow his heart began beating fast once more, yet this time was more amendable to his calming breath. A good portion of him argued against this, but he complied nonetheless. After all, how could he refuse such an earnest request from her after everything they failed to protect her from? In a smooth motion, he pulled her into his arms and guided them back until he was able to settle against a rock with her small form curled in his lap – making sure to pluck his haori from the edge and drape it across her.

Heat made everything a little blurry, but not to a worrisome extent. Likewise, he didn’t like the way his clothes stuck to him unpleasantly, but if it meant calming the tremors shaking her frail body…

Violet exhaled deeply, shaky breaths slowly smoothing out as she curled further into him. A bubbling emotion teased his heart and made his fingers twitch from where they rubbed soothing circles into her arm and carded through her flowing hair. One that left him cursing under his breath as her head leaned back – eyes closed as she gently slept in his arms.

How easy would it be to kiss those delicate lips? To cover over every vile mark and scar on her body? To erase the horrid memories of that place and ease her burden?

Dazai blinked, finding his lips hovering a couple of inches above hers. What was…? No. He pulled away, finding the action harder than he expected to his frown. Be that as it may, the desire to chase away all her fears and restore her to her carefree self bubbled relentlessly from within.

Taking a breath, he pressed his face into the damp crown of her hair, breathing in that familiar lavender scent now mixed with notes of jasmine and earth. Waters that once stung and threatened to steal everything from him now wrapped around them in a tender embrace.

One he wearily resisted as his half-lidded eyes watched the spring slowly turn from purplish grey to the clearest waters he’d ever seen.

Notes:

Hectic day tomorrow means an early update tonight.

Anyways, I am glad to say that as of now, part one of this series is pretty much finished. It all feels a bit surreal but I am rather proud of myself for getting this far and wanted to thank all of you for your support and kind words that made all of this possible. Truly, thank you and I can't wait to continue onwards with the series and its side stories within Nuances.

@Catami: Heh yeah its still a ways away from being fluff which is why I added the beginning of the collection of extras from this series to the uploads for that day as well. That one is still a bit angsty but a whole lot happier than what we're at here. Still, progress is being made and rest assured that part one of this series will end on a light note. Thank you! I hope you are having a good holiday season as well ♥

Thank you all once again. Will see if I can squeeze in one more chapter before the new year. If not, see you all in 2020~

Chapter 69: Melody of Reminisce

Summary:

The songs of the past are the lullabies of the present

A certain air hung around the shrine, one that did not visit too often. Indeed, a sense of completeness, of wholeness typically reserved for times when they were at a comfortable capacity of guests and visitors rested despite only a couple rooms being occupied. Was it because he was here? Did his presence spark this nostalgia – this comforting familiarity?

Or was it more than that? Could the young ones he now surrounded himself with spark this sense of vitality?

A smile tugged up lightly painted lips – a rare sight that caused more commotion from the other residents of the shrine than she deemed proper. After all, what could possibly be so interesting about her painting her lips? She’d done so during every festival and event held in the shrine. Tonight was nothing different.

“Were you in love with him?”

The young doctor’s question echoed in her mind, taking root and occupying her thoughts more than she would have preferred. Still… Could it be those fledgling feelings survived the passage of time? Did she still harbor affections toward him?

Did he feel the same?

Nakano shook her head. No. Now was not the time for such thoughts. She was the head priestess of the shrine. She should not think about such things. Even if it felt pleasant, she had her own responsibilities to address. Time for selfish love no longer existed. Be that as it may…

She hesitated in the doorway to the common area overlooking the gardens, eyes instantly locating those silvery locks and broad shoulders. Would it be so wrong to savor the moment – fleeting as it may be?

Taking a breath, she approached the man and the doctor, both remaining despite how the few guests aside from them and the maiden serving them retired long ago. While the doctor remained focused on her cup of water, her companion took note of her presence almost instantly – turning those blue-grey eyes on her before she could take more than three steps.

It brought a chuckle to her lips as she closed the distance, sitting on his other side to relay lightly, “You always manage to notice me whenever I try to surprise you. I wish for once you’d just humor me and pretend to be oblivious.”

“After that honey bee incident? I think not,” Fukuzawa calmly declined.

A chagrin formed on her features. How was she supposed to know the pot he selected also served as a home for a hive of bees? Although, considering how much fun the two had that night despite his bee stings and the reprimands of her father, she was glad to hear he recalled it, even if it was the less pleasant moments.

“How are they?”

Nakano’s smile diminished some as she let out a breath, and settled into a more comfortable position, “Youth these days are quite reckless, wouldn’t you agree? That man was moments away from a heat stroke. Not surprising given he entered the springs fully clothed. Honestly, if not for Mitsuki checking up on things, he’d be in a much worse situation than now.”

“As for Violet-chan,” she allowed a small smile to form as she met his gaze, marveling for a moment how genuinely interested he was to hear of their condition. Fortunately, her words would not dash the hope they contained, “It would appear that even after his ability nullified mine, the poison was adequately purified to the point she only needs to rest for another day or two.”

A heavy sigh left Yosano’s lips as the doctor murmured under her breath, “Thank goodness…”

Nakano watched in mild amusement, recalling her mutters as they helped the young man into a room about making him learn from his careless actions and impatience. It was rather endearing if not a bit comical, seeing them interact alongside the others of their party. They truly were a close bunch, a fact that only cemented in her mind further from witnessing their rollercoaster of emotions from the moment they first stepped foot in her shrine up to the present moment in which Fukuzawa let out a small exhale that spoke volumes.

“Thank you, Keiko,” her amused expression transformed into one of surprise at his rare vocalization of gratitude. Indeed, her heart skipped a beat as he smiled a smile she never thought she’d see from this battle-hardened man. 

It was awing, and she wanted to freeze time if only to etch it into her mind as she murmured, “I am glad to see you have at last found people that can make you smile so fondly.”

A frown marred that wonderful expression as he furrowed his brows, beginning, “Keiko…”

She shook her head, cutting him off before he could start, “While our youth was some of the happiest moments of my life, I know it was different for you. Do not worry, I am not upset. If anything, I am relieved to know you are doing far better than what you would have if you stayed.”

The two gazed at each other. Memories shared between them forming moments they couldn’t possibly forget and what words could never hope to explain in the time they had. It was a rather breathtaking moment, one that prompted awe in Yosano’s eyes as she observed them for a few moments before mustering the will to speak.

“You two seem to know each other very well, however,” she frowned, “This is the first time I’ve heard of you.”

Nakano blinked before grinning, leaning back to take in her features a bit more, “Oh? Could it be that you’re the young brat that pulled Yuki-kun from his less than honorable path?”

Less than honorable? Yosano frowned, yet before she could speak, Fukuzawa corrected with a frown, “No. She is not the one who prompted me to found the Detective Agency.”

Ahh. So she was referring to Ranpo then, huh? Did that mean he knew of her as well? But given his expression and reaction to when they first arrived, she could not say for certain their leader spoke of or even hinted about the priestess to him.

“Oh?” Nakano tilted her head, regarding her for a moment longer before murmuring, “Then that must mean you are the one who divided Yuki-kun and Ougai.”

At the mention of the man, Yosano flinched. Mori? She knew him as well? Just how many were aware of this priestess? More importantly, how much did she know of her past as it concerned the Port Mafia Boss?

“Forgive me,” Yosano blinked at Nakano’s soft expression, “I did not intend to cause you any distress. Rest assured I harbor no bitter feelings in regards to that moment. Rather, I’d like to thank you for distancing that conniving man from Yuki-kun. From the moment we met I never liked Ougai, and am glad to see that your presence allowed Yuki-kun to surround himself in good company. So once more, I thank you for coming into his life.”

Yosano was at a loss for words, eyes wide as tears threatened to form. By some miracle she managed to subdue them, wiping at her eyes as she found a small voice, “You… You’re welcome…”

Fukuzawa watched in silence, a soft expression present in his eyes that made Nakano smile warmly even as his stoic features remained as he turned his attention to her, “In regards to your price, what exactly do you want?”

Nakano tilted her head. What did she want for healing the young blonde? To be honest, she was content in there being no payment – the whole concept being nothing but a way to tease him from the start. Be that may… If he was offering…

Her lips quirked into a smile as she turned toward an old yet trustworthy erhu resting by the door to the garden as she answered with a small glint in her eyes, “I would like for you to do what you did that night.”

Fukuzawa’s brows rose as he followed her gaze, a barely noticeable smile forming on his features as he softly responded, “Very well…”

 

…

 

Ever had one of those days where you do nothing but watch T.V. or play video games or whatnot and end up feeling exhausted – like the same or more had you been working all day? It’s very ironic. Being tired of doing nothing all day. But I suppose that’s just a sign of overworking yourself. That or your body has been ready for sleep all day that when it is time you’re just ready. Unless the opposite occurred.

Sort of like how I’d been staring at the ceiling for a while now, far too awake to even consider falling asleep.

Wish I could say it was due to too much rest, but the warmth remaining along my cheeks proved otherwise. Instead, all I could think about was the fact I made Dazai nearly have a heat stroke all because I was too paranoid about hallucinating another Fyodor.

Not to mention the entire time I was completely naked and in his lap.

Ahhhh...! Can I just disappear now? How much more mortifying can you get? I’m pretty sure he was grinning and making light of everything. Must be nice to be that carefree. Meanwhile I was dying over here, fantasizing about how his lips would feel against mine…

Some cross between a groan and a dying animal came from my lips as I turned into the pillow. Shame it had to press on my aching bones and wounds. Hopefully they didn’t reopen, or all of Nakano’s work in bandaging me would quickly go to waste.

Although, did the cleansing actually work? I wasn’t conscious enough to see if the waters cleared. That and if Dazai’s ability ended up cancelling everything, wouldn’t that mean we’d have to redo everything – including reopening my wounds? Ugh… That would actually suck.

“Are you still in pain?”

Crap. I turned, finding Kyouka peering over from her futon beside mine, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

She shook her head, “I wasn’t asleep.”

Oh? I mean, I’m not too surprised given her experience in the mafia, but even then…

“You shouldn’t force yourself to stay awake, especially if you’re exhausted. You’ll get sick,” I lightly scolded, feeling the need to impart that to the young girl. Experience in staying up for extended periods or not, she was not immune to catching a nasty bug.

“I will be alright,” she reassured with a small smile, “Until you recover, I will protect you. Besides, if anyone needs rest, it is you, not me.”

True, but that didn’t mean you don’t need it. Ahh… Kyouka was too sweet. I knew she was coming from a good place in trying to keep me safe, but what point was there in that if she ended up getting sick? Honor and pride were nice, but they don’t protect you from viruses and bacteria.

“How about this, then? We take turns sleeping, that way we both get some much needed rest, and if anything happens while you’re asleep, I will wake you up. That way you won’t have to go back on your word, and I won’t worry that you’re not getting enough sleep,” I offered, “Sound good?”

She stared for a moment, contemplating the deal and examining the conditions, “You promise to wake me up no matter how small the symptom?”

Her hesitation for some reason made me smile as I held out a hand, extending my pinkie, “Promise.”

She blinked at it for a moment as a small blush crept up her cheeks and she gave a brief yet pure smile that tug at my heart before wrapping her pinkie around mine and nodding, “Okay.”

How cute! I mean, I always knew Kyouka could be adorable, but this moment just highlighted it. Just the way she smiled so purely – a feat entirely possible only because she left Port Mafia, or, to be more precise, a certain weretiger. Or at least that was my opinion as I mirrored her expression while the very air seemed to sing along in awe.

Or was it? No. That wasn’t the wind or some inner song it was… What was it?

Kyouka raised her brows and blinked, mirroring my surprise as we both glanced out at the door leading to the central garden in this shrine. The melody, while muffled, was solemn yet unmistakably beautiful – that traditional Japanese music that soothes the soul and effectively drew us closer.

I rose to pull aside the door, only for my legs to wobble – all the sign Kyouka needed to swiftly come and support some of my weight. Talk about lightning reflexes, still I was grateful for her help in avoiding a less than graceful landing; shooting her a small smile as we both approached the door and pulled it back to reveal a mesmerizing sight.

 Moonlight cascaded through the rustling trees, casting silvery blue light that reflected serenely off the stones and flowers filling the area. Be that as it may, their splendor fell short to the pair in the center – the source of the music just as surprising as he was awing as he sat against an old tree and swayed to the breathtaking melody he created. Who would have thought such a soft, elegant sound could come from his battle worn hands?

Indeed, it took me a second to register that this was actually Fukuzawa, the President of the Armed Detective Agency. His typical attire was swapped out with one of the outfits the shrine so kindly provided – its deep blue accented with small white flowers and, at the edges, snow foxes. Truly beautiful just like the one swaying from the person dancing to his melody, the bells tied along her form adding another layer to the song that sent chills down my spine.

Nakano. Wow… She looked absolutely amazing – dancing with a serene expression to the melody Fukuzawa created. It was amazing beyond belief; something I don’t think either of us would ever forget. They looked beautiful, and the sight of them in such harmony only solidified my theory that they were close, perhaps closer than friends.

Yet instead of questioning about the past, I found myself drawn to simply bask in the present. To just watch this lovely scene play out. Indeed, a glance left and right revealed the other members of the Agency and residents of the shrine peering out to watch with peaceful smiles. Among them, a mop of dark brown locks made my heart flutter in relief.

However, instead of dwelling on his own beautiful glow in the moonlight, my gaze gravitated back to the duo in the garden – captivated by the ethereal light they emitted and allowed us to witness if only for a little while as Kyouka and I sat, leaning on each other and basking in the melody they created.

Notes:

Happy New Year ♥

Bit of a filler chapter but with any luck there is another on the way shortly. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed some Fukuzawa moments as I don't really see a lot of them, and Kyouka and Violet bonding.

@maccha: Aww thank you! And haha well I hope everything worked out and am glad you enjoyed it ♥

@Chaai: Haha well I do enjoy those rollercoaster of emotions. Hope they were not too terrible this time around but can say they have definitely grown on me more than they already have.

Until next time~

Chapter 70: Core Matters

Summary:

At the heart of everyone lies a core - a set of unchanging values that make us who we are.

Gentle laughter filled the once full room, now only two figures remaining in dim candlelight that glowed halcyon along the surface of their nearly finished Rieslings. A pleasant calm descended in the room, completely different from the creepy abandoned building vibe, yet not quiet filled with vexed stares from employees that wished to return. No, if anything they withdrew to the back as if wanting to grant privacy to their lingering customers.

Probably to cash in on the tip considering how much we owed on wine alone. But hey, can’t complain when it was better than I remembered.

Or maybe the saying was true in that wine tastes better with company. And who could top Chuuya?

“You’re kidding…!” I barely managed to get out between chuckles, “That’s so cheating!”

“Cheating? How’s it cheating?” Chuuya questioned, a wry smirk curling his lips, “I merely tossed the ball and broke a few bottles.”

“With your ability.”

“And your point is? My ability is a part of me. Why wouldn’t I use it?” he rebutted lightly, clearly knowing what I meant yet continuing this jest further.

Seriously, I couldn’t with this guy. Who’d have thought he’d have me laughing this much? Dazai was no surprise, but Chuuya? Always took him as the more formal guy. Guess there’s more to him than I thought; which makes this little get-together really nice. Very appeasing to my drooling curiosity.

Okay, before you say or think anything: no, I did not randomly bump into him or get carried away abruptly. Shockingly enough, Chuuya called the Agency and asked to talk with me. A pleasant surprise that understandably made the others a tad nervous – Dazai groaning the moment he heard his ex-partner’s voice and nearly turning the request into a death threat. Thankfully none of that happened and after a few exchanges of words and vows that this wasn’t a trick (mostly believed by my light curiosity and defense in his word), they agreed.

We met at the park where Mori and Fukuzawa made the agreement to halt their fighting when Fitzgerald terrorized the city. Unsurprisingly, Dazai, Kunikida, and Yosano tagged along – still suspicious of the request (Dazai most likely there to tease the ginger who bristled at the man’s mere presence). Instead of allowing them to derail this promising afternoon, I quickly grabbed Chuuya’s hand, surprising all of them, and trotted away with him, calling over my shoulder that I’d be back later and to keep them updated.

Geez. Now that I think about it, why did this feel like a kid whose parents were overprotective and nervous about a simple playdate? Guess the last time they took their eyes off me that happened…

Well, either way it was better than staying in the Agency. Don’t get me wrong, I loved everyone and it was nice being with them, but it kinda grew a bit stuffy – especially after everything that happened. Nearly a month passed and they would still jump at the chance to escort me near everywhere – even the bathroom! Again, I understand and totally get it. But after spending so long inside and underground, I needed to get out and get some fresh air and see some new faces.

Maybe it was just the thing I needed to begin moving past this – something I think was the driving motive of them to accept this request.

One with perks as we browsed a few shops and touristy spots before landing in this quaint wine-tasting place that turned our afternoon together into a night. Would have to text Yosano and say I might be back a bit later.

Something all but guaranteed as we’d yet to get to the reason why he wanted to meet.

“So,” I propped my elbows on the table, letting my chin rest on my folded hands while continuing, “This evening has really been enjoyable and nice, but I suppose it is time for us to get to the real reason you asked for me.”

The sight of that gentle, carefree smile shifting to a solemn frown tore at my heart for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain. It was as if delving into whatever prompted him to ask for me drained all the happiness from him. How horrible… What did he hope to gain from speaking with me? What exactly did he think I had?

“Yeah,” he exhaled deeply before pinning me with those stunning azure eyes, “Tell me, did we know each other before?”

Huh? Did we know each other before?

Something on my face must’ve said something as Chuuya’s expression grew stern, “When I first met you, you knew my name. No. More than that. You knew my ability and that I would catch you when you jumped from that ship in the sky. Why? How did you know all of that? I don’t remember you at all, but…” he grimaced, adding almost painfully, “Did you know this body before it became a vessel?”

What? Was he drunk? Body? Vessel? What was he talking about? Nothing made sense-

“Arahabaki was not in its true form – perhaps to protect its vessel…”

Lovecraft’s words from all those weeks ago came back with startling clarity – the whiplash sending bolts of adrenaline through my body. Could Chuuya be referring to Arahabaki? But if that was the case… Then why did he word it like…? It couldn’t be…

“You…” a heavy weight descended as I whispered, feeling my heart twist for reasons I couldn’t explain, “You’re Arahabaki, aren’t you?”

Without realizing it, I held my breath. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream – a nightmare. Lovecraft said that Chuuya was still Chuuya – that Arahabaki had not fully possessed him to the point his persona faded. Could he have been wrong? Or did something happen? Did my presence somehow cause something to happen?

Did I inadvertently kill Chuuya?

“I-”

“I’m sorry.”

Huh? I blinked, Chuuya’s voice going over my meek one as he dipped his head. What? Why? Why was he apologizing? I should be the one. After all, it was my fault he-

“By the look you gave, you must have known me before I woke up 15 years ago. I don’t ever remember there being another person or whatever speaking when I came to, but even then, I’m sorry for taking him away,” he spoke surprisingly soft.

Fifteen years? What did he mean? Could it be…?

Was Arahabaki and Chuuya one and the same all this time?

“Still, I don’t want there to be any confusion. I am me: Nakahara Chuuya,” he met my gaze with a resolute one, “Whoever it was you knew in the past, they are not me. However, if I can make it up…”

A chuckle weakly bubbled up, prompting him to pause and give me a sympathetic look as if I’d lost it. Maybe I had. However, the way he spoke just now… It was very Nakahara Chuuya.

“Yes, there is no doubt about it. You are Nakahara Chuuya. I know that,” I smiled hopefully reassuring at him, “As for the person before… Well, if I remember correctly, he was Chuuya but not Nakahara Chuuya.”

A look of confusion crossed his features and for good reason. The name that poised on the tip of my tongue – it was one I wasn’t sure even applied to him. Still, if these people really were reflections of their counterparts in my world, then some of those truths had to stand. And if it meant reassuring him and myself of his identity, then it was a worthwhile venture.

“Kashimura. Kashimura Chuuya, that is- that was your name,” I spoke softly, a part of me screaming at how this could potentially alert things. Be that as it may, Chuuya made me feel reassured. Like no matter what he’d stay true to the Chuuya I knew him to be.

There was no fear that he would disappear.

“I see…” he murmured, holding my gaze for a moment before asking the weighty question, “Do you hate me for killing your Chuuya?”

“No,” the word came out before I had the chance to process the question and its implications, instead finding a hand reach out to cup his cheek as I leaned over the table, “To be honest, I don’t remember that much about Kashimura. I think all this time I thought he was the one who saved me from falling and lent me his shirt when mine was torn, but it turns out that the one I’d been watching was you …”

Yes. He may not be the true Chuuya in this world, but as it stands he was the one that I knew. And that brought warm relief upwelling in my heart as I smiled at him.

“How can I possibly hate you when you are the Chuuya I’ve come to know and care for?”

A blush crept up his cheeks, one that quickly infected mine as the realization of how sappy and romantic that sounded finally registered. As if touching molten lava, my hand recoiled back as I stammered out, “I- I mean- Yeah. I don’t hate you. Because as far as I’m concerned, you are Chuuya. And so long as you remain Chuuya I will be fine because that’s you and you need to stay you and- and-”

Deep chuckles cut off my frantic words, tugging my attention to where he smirked in amusement, all previous tension gone in the wake of his pure expression. Indeed, it quickly swept me up into giggling with him. To think we both worried over something so trivial… It was nice to see it end on a light note. Because even if he was Arahabaki, I still wanted to be with him.

I still wanted to have the chance to call Chuuya a friend.

We talked for a while after that about his thoughts on things of this world ranging from cuisine to cultural sights to even poetry. Of course before we could dive into deeper topics the poor owner of the restaurant kindly asked us to leave as his employees needed sleep. A bold move considering they appeared aware of Chuuya’s status. Nonetheless, he obliged and we left, not without him giving a rather expensive tip they certainly deserved.

Our light conversation continued as we strolled through the streets lit by iridescent lights. Barely anyone was around besides the two of us – one of the first hints that it was actually pretty late. The second being a deep yawn that cut through Chuuya’s explanation on how superior French pastries were to some of the baked goods in Italy.  

“Sorry,” he chagrined, “I kept you up later than we planned. Guess the Agency is gonna be ticked that you stayed up past curfew.”

A light chuckle left my lips as I shook my head, “Don’t worry. I enjoyed it. Besides, if they do get mad I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

“Is that so?” he raised a brow, grin stretching on his features, “To think that I’d be protected by such a delicate woman. I must be losing my touch.”

“Call it payment for paying the bill,” I smirked back, bumping his shoulder with mind affectionately, “Still, I suppose I should get back before-”

Something wet bopped my nose before I could finish. First instincts screamed that it was bird poop or, rather, bat poop considering the time. Thankfully the continuation of wet droplets dismissed that theory. Unfortunately, they continued at a rate that had us both running for shelter – even then getting fairly wet by the time we made it to an overhang.

Rain at this time? Great. Guess I should’ve looked at the forecast. Then again there was no way I’d foresee us talking this long. Ahh…. I’d be drenched by the time I got back to Yosano’s…

“Stay at my place.”

Huh? I blinked, finding Chuuya pinning me with a calm look that said I wasn’t hearing things and he actually meant what I had a hard time believing.

“What?”

“Stay at my place tonight,” he repeated, “It’s far closer than the dorms the Agency uses, right? And at this rate I don’t think the storm is going to pass through any time soon.”

“But…” I hesitated. Was this a good idea? Didn’t he live in Port Mafia’s headquarters? Kunikida would pop a vein if he knew I spent the night there – with one of its executives no less.

“If you want to catch a cold getting drenched, by all means. I just thought it’d be easier on you since you look like you’re about to pass out anyways,” he added gruffly.

It was cute and brushed away a good chunk of my reservations, enough to chuckle and prompt him to frown and prepare a comeback only to stop as I nodded, “Alright. Just let me text Yosano so she doesn’t completely kill me when I get back.”

 

…

 

Crisp sea air blew without restraint, harsh yet strangely refreshing; bringing a scent of nostalgia and promise of adventure. Ahh… How wonderful. It’d been some time since I visited the ocean. Well, in a manner that did not involve saving a guy that almost destroyed a city with his group’s giant whale.

Fortunately none of the sort appeared on this overlook.

One I found myself not alone on as a familiar yet somewhat higher-pitched voice sounded beside me, “The Port Mafia took all the records you’d collected on Arahabaki. Thanks to you, I now have no leads.”

“Chuuya…?” I turned, finding a much younger version of himself perched atop a…grave? What was…?

Was this a vision?

I blinked. He looked…different. His hair was short and all roughly the same length. As for his attire, it was far more casual than what I’d grown accustomed to him seeing. Was this him when he was younger? When he was with that group he briefly mentioned? What were they called…? Sheep?

Right as the name clicked in my mind, a barrage of scenes flashed all around me; quickly covering over the young ginger and beautiful outlook.

Chuuya’s voice melding with both familiar and unfamiliar ones. I couldn’t make them out even as a part of me understood exactly what they were saying. Images of him with a group of kids, of kicking Dazai to the ground and fighting Hirotsu, of meeting Mori and making a deal with Port Mafia, of a man named Randou who would come to threaten the mafia and Chuuya’s life – all of it swirled around only to end with the man lying in a crater with Dazai and Chuuya staring down at him.

“I do not suspect you are Arahabaki itself, but a human being chosen as a vessel to keep Arahabaki under control…”

What? His words quickly caught my attention. Not Arahabaki? But didn’t he say that he was? I suppose not explicitly but even then… What did he mean when he said he had no memories past 15 years ago? What happened during those first seven years? It made no sense. Unless… Maybe Lovecraft was right? Maybe ‘Chuuya’ was the personality of Arahabaki – the being only showing itself when he activated Corruption.

Still, if that was true, then why did he refer to himself, or rather his body, as someone else’s?

Geez. And I thought I had some troubling identity problems. Chuuya certainly took the cake. Even then, he ran with it in an enviable fashion. Like he held such confidence in himself. It was annoying as much as it was admirable… Huh… Maybe that is why Dazai doesn’t like him…

A pained grunt tugged my attention leftwards, ripping out a gasp at the sight. I was back on the outlook with Chuuya, only this time another light-haired boy stood in front of him. Someone who, in the action of stepping back, revealed a blade piercing the ginger’s abdomen.

“C-Chuuya!” I gasped before I could stop myself. It was shocking. I think this was the first time I’d seen him actually injured from something other than Corruption. How? I mean, I suppose he was a lot younger, but even then.

In my mind, Chuuya always just seemed to be invincible – so seeing this now made the ground drop from beneath my feet. Or, rather, Chuuya did as he activated his ability and severed the ground we stood on right before a barrage of bullets rained down.

A scream tore from my lips as gravity tugged us down, the drop thankfully not being too far. Be that as it may, the impact was jarring. Nothing, however, compared to the raw fear in my heart as I looked over to find Chuuya’s face contorted in pain.

“Chuuya…” I reached over tentatively.

And with good reason as a surge of emotions tore through me upon touching his shoulder. Feelings of betrayal, resentment, sorrow, despair, anger… It took my breath away. And yet in the midst of all of it, a singular emotion stood out among them all, forming the core of who he was and how he truly viewed the tragedy that took place.

He cared for that boy, for Shirase. And even in the wake of his betrayal, that fact did not change. At his core, Chuuya truly cared for the children making up Sheep.

It was the reason for his loyalty to them and later to Port Mafia.

Suddenly everything turned to black, or, rather, a dark navy. It took a moment to realize that what I was staring at wasn’t the abyss but reality as I sat up among the nice linens and warm comforters and felt real air cooling my skin.

Where…?

An unfamiliar room stretched out, effectively throwing me off more than that vision already had. It took a few moments to remember where I was: Chuuya’s place. Or, rather, Chuuya’s house. Yeah, color me surprised. Always thought he lived in the heights of Port Mafia, but I suppose that was not a requirement. Not to mention I think I remember reading somewhere that he had a desire to build a wine cellar – something mighty hard to accomplish on the 72^nd floor.

Still, what this place lacked in skyscraping height it certainly made up for it in luxury. The place was a mansion. One that now felt far more familiar as it reflected that man’s lodging.

The one that desired his ability enough to send Port Mafia into chaos.

A cough teased my parched throat, all the motivation I needed to pull away from the warm covers and seek out his kitchen. If I remember correctly, it was just down the hall and past the main entrance… Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset if I wandered into a room I wasn’t supposed to be in.

Grabbing a blanket to ward off the chill, I peered out the door, hoping to find Chuuya against all odds only to find an empty hall. Yeah, figures. It was still dark out. The guy was probably still asleep. Something adrenaline made near impossible for me to return to. Ahh…. Maybe I’d find some tea to make and share with him so he wouldn’t be too upset with me rummaging around his pantry.

Something that suddenly grew uninteresting upon finding the kitchen, or, more precisely, Chuuya’s hat on the counter. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand reached out to pick up the infamous article. The fabric was soft, showing signs of use yet not rough to the point of abuse. Rather it felt cared for, not surprising given Chuuya’s affinity toward it.

A feeling that gained newfound meaning as I turned it to find a name woven into the inner band: Rimbaud.

Numbly, I heard rustling and heavy footsteps enter the kitchen area, signaling the arrival of my host. Be that as it may, I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the hat. It was odd. No embarrassment from getting caught holding it came. Instead a heavy sensation slowly filled me. What was this…?

“Damn, you’re up early. I’d have sworn you’d sleep a little long-” Chuuya greeted with a yawn only to abruptly cut off, and I needn’t look to see him tense up as in the next moment he spoke urgently, “Hey…! What- What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

It wasn’t until he swiftly approached and awkwardly reached only to hesitate that I recognized the dampness on my cheeks. Were those tears? I… I was crying? Why? From the memory? Or…?

Meeting his azure eyes turned out to be my downfall as I saw his younger self struggling so hard to survive – to justify his existence – in his gaze, in everything from his messy hair to his tense stance to the barely noticeable light mark peering out from his bunched up shirt.

The very scar left by someone he once called a friend.

A surge of sorrow and pain he felt in those times culminated, leaving me to stagger forward and close the distance between us – instantly burying my face into his chest. Soft cries were thankfully muffled as I selfishly held onto him, feeling him tense immediately only to uncertainly shift and rest a hand on my back.

“Hey… What’s the matter? It can’t be… Are you actually upset?” his tone gained a grimacing note. Did he think I lied earlier when I said I didn’t hate him?

“N-No…!” I managed to get out, refusing to pull my head from his damp shirt, “I- I’m just… I’m so sorry Chuuya…!”

I felt his frown even as he allowed me a few moments longer to collect myself before pulling back a little, holding onto my shoulders as I sniffed. I must’ve looked like a mess, but thankfully he didn’t comment on it, instead staying quiet so I could calm my breathing enough to actually speak.

“Sorry, usually these visions aren’t so…vivid. I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve had one so potent,” I rasped, wiping at my eyes for whatever good it did.

He frowned, “Visions? What are you talking about?”

Ah… That’s right. He wouldn’t know about them. Still, I thought Mori would say something…

“My…ability,” the second part felt wrong on my lips yet I pushed through all the same, “I can see the past and, at times, the future.”

Chuuya’s brows rose, an impressed glint passing through his eyes only to darken as he caught on surprisingly quick, “So the vision you saw just now… It was one about me, huh?”

Tentatively I nodded, “Yes. When you first met Dazai and joined Port Mafia after your friend…” I trailed off, unable to finish lest I fall into another crying fit.

Thankfully or not, Chuuya gathered enough to let out a heavy sigh, wrapping an arm around my shoulder to impart a gentle squeeze. His silence spoke volumes as guilt rose within – this time feeling far more potent than before. After all, these memories… They weren’t happy or light. In fact, he was probably trying to move past all of them. And yet here I was bringing them up…

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, refusing to look at him as my chest tightened, “It seems like this gift is turning out to be nothing but a curse...”

Silence fell and for once I didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand it was nice not to hear any affirmation of this horrid reality – of words that would only bring back how much I lost thanks to this “gift”. But on the other hand, this quiet screamed a truth that fell oppressively on my shoulders. Like we were both too afraid to speak the truth. And yet, in this case, what was the truth?

“Your ability is what you make of it. Although, I can see why you would consider it a burden,” he began slowly, “I’m guessing that is part of the reason why the Boss sent Akutagawa out to help the Agency, huh?”

A flinch tore at my exhausted muscles, one that hurt even as I wished I could have prevented it. Instead it prompted sour memories. I managed to recover enough not to immediately fall into a panic attack, but it didn’t make recalling those moments or what led up to Mori offering his help any easier.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” he murmured, surprisingly melancholy as I glanced up at his frown.

“Don’t be,” I shook my head, a small smile rising as I added, “It was probably for the best though considering we were underground. If you were to have come the tunnels would’ve probably collapsed.”

“Tsk. Do you think I can’t control my own ability?”

“No. Just that whenever Dazai is involved you tend to be a bit more…riled.”

Chuuya huffed, his pout surprisingly cute as he muttered, “Anyone would be riled with that damn mackerel spouting nonsense every other second…”

A chuckle bubbled up. It was amazing how easily he could cheer me up simply by being himself. Almost like breathing fresh air…. And Dazai actually hated him? Hard to believe with how honest he was with himself. Although maybe that was why… Did Dazai dislike him because he was so honest and remained that way despite being in Port Mafia – despite after everything he went through?

Whatever the case, I found solace in standing with him and watching the sun finally rise above the horizon, bringing with it soft colors that kissed the buildings below. A truly mesmerizing sight only possible thanks to his house’s position on a hill. It was stunning and seemed to wash away all the heaviness as I finally released a breath I didn’t realize I held alongside his hat he finally managed to worm from my grip only to press onto my head.

Warmth brushed my cheeks at how strangely intimate it felt, yet any self-consciousness faded upon meeting Chuuya’s grin as he said, “How about some breakfast before I bring you back?”

Notes:

Surprise update in anticipation of the final chapter? Why not?

Okay, so this one has a lot of my headcannons as it pertains to Chuuya in specific. I do strongly believe he took over Randou's estate after he died, as well as Chuuya before he became a vessel was a different person. Be that as it may, as Violet comes to learn, I do view the Chuuya that we know and love in the series as the real one. As for what is true, well, I guess we will have to wait for Asagiri-sensei to shed some light, but this will mainly hold in this series.

Additionally I think it is important to point out that what Violet and Chuuya say may not necessarily be what they believe (i.e. Chuuya thinks that Violet knew him before in that world, and while she doesn't explicitly say no, she does hint at that being true). Just another subtlety that pervades this series, but I found the need to point it out for this time if only to clear any potential confusion on the matter.

As for this chapter in specific, it feels a bit random to me? But I wanted to fit this in before the end of the part because Chuuya and Violet's relationship does play a major role in the next part alongside their meeting in the chapter. Also, I missed writing the guy, so very selfish chapter alongside the final one. Hope you all enjoy nonetheless.

@Sian: Aww, yes it is a very soft chapter like this one and the next. Kinda wanted to end on a softer note, and Kyouka was the perfect candidate ♥ As for Nakano, she started out as a kind of side character but I think she's grown a lot on me in the past few days, so there's a very good chance she pops up in the future. If anything, I may write a bit about her in Nuances. Oooh, the chance of more lovely art? If you do decide to make it I'd love to see ♥

Thank you all. Last chapter will be up by Tuesday at the latest c:

Chapter 71: Sherbert Sunsets

Summary:

Life is moving forward. No matter what stands in front, keep moving onwards.

A soft blue sky rested comfortably by the time Chuuya dropped me off a few blocks away from Yosano’s place. It was nice of him considering he could’ve easily gotten a subordinate to do so; not to mention he humored my googly eyes at his motorcycle and opted for that instead of his other fancy car.

All in all, it was exhilarating. Maybe because we didn’t wear helmets? Please. Why bother when the driver could control gravity? Not to mention I’d been on a motorcycle before, so it was nice to feel the sensation of the wind rushing around once more. Probably would’ve made a mess of my hair if not for his hat – something Chuuya sorely missed as his hair was very windblown by the end.

Recalling his huff at my giggle prompted another to form. He was cute, especially when he acted so human and almost innocent. Of course I knew from first-hand experience and a plethora of foreknowledge that he was anything but innocent, but it was a nice sentiment to see that despite all of that he was capable of such pure expressions.

Ahh… I’d have to figure out something to give him in return for everything seeing as not only did he foot the bill at the winery but also let me bunk at his place and served amazing eggs benedict. Although it was going to be interesting trying to set up another meeting with him considering our corresponding positions in rivalish organizations… Eh. We’d figure something out. Shouldn’t be too hard after we exchanged numbers.

Not to mention kind of nice since his presence quickly grew refreshing, especially after everything I went through.

“Don’t let all of what happened tie you down forever. Don’t let that bastard hold you back.  Keep moving forward on the path you choose and show him who the real victor here is.”

Sure, he didn’t know all the details, and some of his words were a bit…harsh on the still raw parts of my psyche. However, the intentions behind them were heartwarming. Maybe he really cared. Why? We never really got into it. Maybe because of the miscommunication that I knew him before? So did that make it pity? Hmm… No. That didn’t feel right.

Well, whatever it was, it left me smiling and already mentally planning another get together if only to talk in that rare solace we somehow grasped among the chaos surrounding our lives.

 

…

 

Ever pondered how wonderful it is to be able to read? Especially after a nice, warm shower with a fresh, steaming cup of tea and fluffy blankets wrapped around you? It’s heavenly. And as an avid reader, it nearly brought me to tears. Think I forgot about being able to understand everything, including writing.

All in all, it was a sorely needed surprise I leapt at perhaps a bit too energetically as Yosano giggled before setting out to meet Kenji and collect some herbs and supplies Nakano recommended for her arsenal both here and at the Agency.

At least she had good tastes in books – the suspenseful mystery one luring me in instantly. It was your stereotypical murder mystery complete with red herrings and noble families. Very easy to predict, but then that fact was also really refreshing if not a bit ironic. To think such matters were so forward in this book as opposed to this world. I wonder, would things be different if I were to jump into this story? Maybe I should find Poe and test it out…

About halfway through that daydream, two sharp knocks cut through the silence.

Huh? A visitor? Was Yosano expecting something? Or was this a delivery?

Tearing myself away from my makeshift nest, I approached the door and peered through the look-hole. Deep carnelian filled the area, shocking in how unexpected it was. Shame it took a second to figure out who, rather than what, it was.

“Dazai?” His name fell from my lips as I moved to unlock and open the door, prompting his cheery reply to go from muffled to clear.

“Violet-chan! Good afternoon,” he greeted sunnily.

“Good- Good afternoon,” I responded, holding onto the door for whatever psychological support it offered, “What’s up? Do you need something from Yosano? I think she’s not going to be back until later tonight.”

“Well, that’s perfect then.”

“Huh?”

“Go get ready real quick. I have something to show you,” he grinned in that manner that I didn’t know whether I should be concerned or not. Was that why my heart was beating a little faster? Or maybe the idea of spending time with Dazai, potentially alone?

Or the fact I was in a tank-top, shorts, and a blanket?

Either way, I sped changed and threw some things in a bag before snatching up my phone and the spare key and following him out. A certain jitteriness infected me, and I kept tugging at my sweater’s sleeve as we passed by people on the street – most returning home from work while a few tourists wandered about here and there. Yet all my thoughts revolved around the man and his reasons for this impromptu outing.

Everything Dazai did held meaning. So what was this all about? What did he want to show me? More importantly… His smile, it was so nice. It was one of those ones that isn’t forced or faked in the slightest. Not big, per say, but natural and soft and utterly breathtaking.

“It’s nice to see that smile once more. For a moment I didn’t think we’d see it again.”

Huh? I blinked, finding his eyes tender as he relayed with a hint of chagrin in his expression. What did he mean? Did I really not smile that often? I suppose it’s only to be expected, but even then…

“Yeah, I guess I’ve just decided to move forward,” I conveyed softly, facing forward where the bay came into view, “I won’t let anything hold me back, not even…Fyodor.”

Speaking his name felt like getting punched in the gut, and yet no panic attack followed. Maybe because Dazai was beside me? Who knows? Either way I was determined to live past this. This was not the end of my story or theirs. We would move forwards through each trial and celebration. Everything had its season, and now was one of rebuilding and becoming stronger.

Something that grew brighter upon Dazai’s initial surprise melting into a warm smile, “I wonder who could’ve inspired that notion?”

A certain redhead that held a special place in perhaps both of our hearts? A chuckle rose from my lips as I shook my head. Wouldn’t that be something… Although nothing I wanted to immediately test out.

“Beats me,” I responded lightly, earning a chuckle from him.

We continued on in a peaceful quiet for a few more blocks before he began once more, “So. What do you plan on doing from here on?”

What did I plan on doing? Hmm… It’s a good question. What did I want to do? Continue focusing on going back home? As bad as it sounds, the notion slipped my mind entirely. And even after everything, I found myself slowly falling in love with this world. That’s not to say I didn’t miss my family and friends back home, but…

“Maybe it would be alright to stay here a little longer…” the words fell from my lips easily, and I felt my cheeks warm. Why? This wasn’t a confession of that nature. Still, it felt intimate, like revealing a secret.

One that felt so natural to talk to him about. Since when did it become so easy to talk to him?

“Well, I know someone who would be willing to employ you,” he informed, a wry grin taking form on his features, “Of course there will be a test, but I think you’ll be able to pass with flying colors.”

Geez. Way to reference what he said to Atsushi; and like the kid a mess of anticipation and anxiety at the prospect welled up. Join the Agency, huh? It was so natural, so simple. A path I wanted to take with my own free will. One I finally found myself at the starting line of.

“That sounds nice. You’ll have to introduce me to this person,” I smiled, adoring how it made his shine brighter as he came to a stop in from of a building on the edge of the bay.

We made it to some touristy spot now mainly populated by locals taking their kids out for last minute adventures, and couples walking along – some diverting to the building. What was it? An…ice cream shop?

Dazai pulled up beside me, staring up at the building’s sign while murmuring, “It’s a bit late, but I finally managed to keep my promise to you all those days ago.”

Now that’s a way to make anyone a blushing mess. He was referring to that vow to take me to an ice cream shop shortly before we parted ways when the Guild first threatened us. Something I didn’t even find out until we shared a mind and I glimpsed at that memory. A memory from months ago. And he remembered all that time – put such importance on it to actually go to the effort to fulfill something so small…?

“You’re too much, you know that?” I chuckled, feeling lighter than air as he grinned back and took my hand, pulling us inside as my heart soared ever higher.

 

…

 

Soft orange melted with pastel pinks, vibrant reds, and calming violets, creating a symphony of warm colors in the twilight sky – perfectly mirroring the sherbet atop a cream colored cone. Silky air caressed a small wrist partially obscured by bandages slightly cleaner than those holding a peach cone to the left. It danced among their hair, twirling around them like an excited child welcoming their parents home and giving life to their swaying legs off the pier.

Gentle solace covered them in a cozy blanket, eyes reflecting the fiery sun shimmering off Yokohama’s bay. Dazai kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, for once content to let his mind simply observe the spectacle. Every now and then, he’d glance out of the corner of his eyes, catching the pink tongue of his companion flick out to gather some more colorful sherbet into delicate lips that curled in satisfaction.

Echoes of her giggles still resounded in his mind like joyful bells. After everything… Who’d have thought having her spending time with Chuuya of all people would bring such beneficial effects? He supposed she did hold a crush on him. Not to mention that, unlike him, the small spitfire was miles away from even resembling Fyodor Dostoevsky.

A feat he could never hope to achieve.

Maybe it was best to have her stay with the ginger. That way she could hopefully forget about that horror and not be reminded of that man every day… Heck, maybe she’d be able to avoid seeing him ever again. Port Mafia certainly held better protective measures than the Armed Detective Agency could surmise. He of all people knew that. And if Chuuya felt the same, then…

Dazai sighed softly, unconsciously raising a hand to rest on his left side and prompting Violet to speak up in concern, “Dazai? Are you okay? Do you have a stomach ache?”

“Ah, no,” he reassured, adding when she raised a dubious brow, “Say, Violet-chan, I meant to ask you that evening, but do you feel…different after everything? Icarus, I mean.”

“Eh?” she tilted her head, making a cute expression he had to restrain himself from poking at, “Different? I mean…” she trailed off, eyes gaining flashes of pain and panic as she dove into her memories, likely trying to pull apart one nightmare from another. Before he could take back his words, she met his gaze and answered, “I think a little, but I can’t really describe it. Ironic given whatever happened somehow turned on some inner translator for me. If I knew that’d happen I’d have bumped into him sooner.”

Her chuckle banished the rising muck threatening to drown him, and Dazai smiled lightly, “Yes, it certainly helped in unexpected ways. Although I rather enjoyed our drawing sessions.”

“Really?” a faint pink dusted her cheeks as she turned toward the setting sun, “I mean, if you want, we can always draw together sometime. It’s not like we can never do it again, you know? Not to mention this time we can at least tell each other when there’s a miscommunication.”

“I suppose that would make things a bit easier.”

“Yeah…” she trailed off, letting a small space of quiet rest between them before asking, “What about you?”

His expression gained a sober note as he rested a hand over his side, “I think the effects of that machine lasted longer than even Mori-san thought.”

Violet’s expression sobered, yet she remained quiet as he explained, “Ever since that day, I’ve felt different. At times there’s bursts of emotions so strong I don’t know how to handle them or what even caused them, while other times I feel phantom pains – like I’ve been stabbed but there’s no wound or scar. Well, besides those ones…” he chagrinned, expression fading as he observed the sapphire waters, “I thought they might just be the after effects of that machine, but when I saw you in the shower that day and in the springs…”

Tentatively he reached over with his other hand and grazed her side, “I noticed scars in the exact same place on you.”

“What…?” the blonde barely breathed, features frozen in shock that made Dazai wince; instantly regretting his confession. It just felt so natural to speak to her. Even before their journey in their minds, she was an easy face to tell things to.

Of course back then she didn’t understand half of what he said. Now she understood with perfect clarity – something he winced at as he mentally filed the precaution away for future times.

“Violet-chan, I-”

“It-It’s not impossible,” she cut him off, giving a weak smile that somehow eased his guilt yet made his heart twist uncomfortably, “I mean, our minds were connected for hours on end. Maybe a little more than our native tongues were exchanged in that time. Although, to be safe, I think we shouldn’t try to test it out by cutting off any fingers, okay?”

Dazai blinked, settling with a small smile. His chest felt a little strained, and he briefly wondered if it was because of Violet’s unease or his, “Sounds good to me. But I’d be lying if I said it is a blessing, especially for you.”

Violet frowned, brows furrowing in confusion as he clarified while resting a hand over his heart, “If there really exists a connection between us, then that means during those times I was finally able to feel human. It’s something wonderful – a true gift. Yet, for you, that bond…”

Is a curse that will leave you feeling hollow and outcasted from society itself.

He averted his gaze, unable to look her in the eyes at the horrible exchange this supposed bond proposed for her. It wasn’t fair. He never intended for this demon to infect others, least of all Violet. She didn’t deserve that. Especially after everything. And yet, how could he protect her from the void when he didn’t even know how to escape it himself?

Dazai narrowed his eyes. Did he doom her to his hell?

A hand slipped over his, squeezing it and gathering his attention toward a pair of olive eyes that shone too pure for this world, “Dazai, if you’re thinking that I resent this connection, than you’re wrong. I don’t hate it or you. In fact,” she smiled softly, “I really cherish it because it lets me finally understand someone I could only dream of figuring out.”

What? He stared at her, for once not knowing at all what to say. It worked as she continued warmly, “I’ve known so much about you from before we even met. I knew about your past with Port Mafia, about Odasaku and what led you to the Agency. I saw the trials you faced and will face, and through it all I longed to glimpse at how a human could possibly possess as much hope and love as you.”

Hope? Love? What was she talking about? Nothing of that sort resided in a person like him. Surely she must be mistaken…

“You may not see it now, but I hope one day you will. Still, I do understand now what you felt like and might still feel in your quest to die, and while I cannot agree with your wish, if you end up going through with it I won’t hate you. Even then…”

She imparted a gentle squeeze, “I hope that you are able to find happiness in this life – in this cruel yet beautiful world…”

Sunlight cast deep honey marks in her hair, creating a soft glow on her skin that tenderly touched his. He stared, captivated by the moment as her words lingered in his ears. Beautiful? This world? That may be true, yet for him… He turned his hand so their fingers intertwined.

She was the only beautiful thing he could see.

Violet blushed. Did she feel that warmth bubbling in his heart? Or perhaps realized their positions? If so she made no move to back away, instead staying still and shyly holding his hand. How lovely she appeared then. The only beautiful person in this world – a place she ironically didn’t belong in. He nearly chuckled at the truth behind those words, yet settled with shifting a little closer.

A small smile tugged his lips as she mirrored his actions, gently resting on his shoulder and turning her gaze outwards at the remnants of sunset. It was an enthralling sight, a perfect testimony to the day and transition into a calm night. Yet even then he found her so much more breathtaking.

Please, let her stay with me a little longer…

He prayed the selfish prayer over and over, wishing for maybe the first time in years for someone to stay with him just a little longer. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, his wish would be granted this time and the radiant woman would bring light to his life for a bit longer – unknowingly fulfilling her own wish for him.

Notes:

And that's a wrap. Honestly feels amazing - 71 chapters and more still to come. All in all, I want to say thank you to all of you for the wonderful time. As you probably noticed, there are a bunch of cliffhangers I oh so love, which means yes there is more to Violet's story.

For those joining the second part, I tentatively plan to start it probably some time in March or April but will keep updates in Nuances where I will update randomly upon requests and/or if I have available time. If this is where you drop off, it's been a wonderful journey and I wish you well.

@Chaii: Yes, it feels quite nice after everything huh? Much easier to write, that's for sure.

@uwuscope: Ahh, yes it has finally reached its end. But don't worry, there will still be the random adventures in Nuances and the second part to keep things going. Thank you though for all the lovely comments for this part ♥

@Delasera: Aww thank you! And yes, I think in total there's 3-4ish Chuuya chapters? So had to squeeze one more in before the end. And yep, the series will continue in the next part in March/April, but in the meantime there's the omake-like shorts in Nuances to help pass the time.

@seneca: Happy Belated New Year ♥
It has been quite the wild ride, huh? Haha yes, Chuuya has become that friend that everyone looks at and assumes is something more but in reality he's just a really good friend. As for Dazai's view on things, well, it is pretty amusing to think about.
Haha yes, that was all the fluff I wanted to pour out but couldn't because we were smack dab in the middle of Fyodor's arc. So by the end of it I was like Might as well share it with my fluff-starved readers.
Thank you once more for everything, and I hope the ending is satisfying with its additional fluff moments and Dazai and Violet bonding. I hope to see you in the next part but if not it was wonderful reading your comments ♥

Once more, thank you all for the wonderful journey. I intend to take some time off but Nuances will be open for requests later on today.

All in all, thank you, thank you, thank you. And I hope you all have a wonderful day. See you all in spring ♥

Notes:

Questions? Comments? Random BSD and cat content? Try here.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Immersion