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Izumi Kyouka has never been so confused by a single person before she met Nakahara Chuuya. He’s not confusing in the way other people in the Mafia are, saying one thing but meaning something completely different or contradicting themselves moments later. No, she got used to that fairly quickly, looking for all the ways that people are lying to her.
He doesn't lie.
The first time she met him, Kyouka spent half the time waiting for the other shoe to drop. She had been sure he’d show another side, one filled with blood-lust and violence. Kouyou certainly had, showing a soft, smiling face one second then a terrifying scowl the next.
He never did, just calmly handed her a knife and told her to help prepare their meal. He even asked what she wanted.
Then he comforted her, held her, while she cried for a man who would have killed her without a second thought.
He's never cold and angry towards her, instead being as gentle as the situation calls for it. The closest he ever got to what a mafioso should be was when he warned her not to show interest in desertion. For a moment, she'd been scared of him. Until she realised that the chilly look in his eyes hadn't been about killing, but protection.
Guard yourself, Kyouka-chan.
She took that warning to heart, locking all of her emotions within. She doesn't allow herself to feel. Numbness is better than pain.
So, as she holds her tongue and fades into the background, she hears things. Mafia grunts are prone to gossip and during one particular eavesdropping session, she comes across the most confusing trait regarding Nakahara Chuuya.
Soukoku. Double Black.
Long since shattered in two, but still whispered about and feared, the destructive duo of the Port Mafia.
Chuuya being the remaining half.
The stories told about him are frightening and unbelievable. They speak of annihilation; mass slaughter done in a single night. A man who is bathed in so much blood it will never wash off.
The weapon of the Port Mafia.
How is the man in those stories the same Chuuya she's seen smile giddily about an ice cream sundae with strawberry syrup? Is the mass murderer the same man that sings when he cooks, or dances around with a wine glass in hand?
She can't mesh the two images. They're too different.
Certainly not when he drags her out into the sun for another day away from the Mafia.
It’s late morning when a maid informs her that Executive Nakahara is there for her. She nods and heads towards the entrance of Kouyou's traditional estate. Kyouka is unsurprised to see that the mistress of the house is also there, chatting quietly with Chuuya. There’s a soft smile on the woman's face, looking at the shorter mafioso with an indulgent, motherly expression.
Kyouka slips into the room, soundlessly closing the paper door behind her but Chuuya notices her anyways, his eyes snapping to hers within seconds. She doesn’t know how he does it, sensing people far before anyone else. Kouyou reacts seconds after him, although it is difficult to tell if she's following his gaze or noticing Kyouka herself.
“Ready to go?” Chuuya asks cheerfully, giving her a soft smile.
Kyouka nods, coming closer. She turns towards the door but freezes when Kouyou huffs disapprovingly.
“Your hair’s crooked,” she tells the girl, bending down and pulling on the flower hair tie. Kyouka stands still, letting the woman fix something Kyouka had deemed too small a difference to worry about.
Chuuya catches her look and exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, shooting her a small smirk of commissary. Kyouka wonders how many times he’s had to deal with Kouyous’ perfectionist fussing.
“There,” Kouyou says, stepping back. “You look lovely. As delicate as a flower.” A small smile curves her painted lips and her eyes soften.
Kyouka can’t bring herself to return it, a dull, uneasy feeling growing in her chest.
She doesn’t want to look perfect.
She doesn’t want to be here.
Kouyou’s smile falters, a bitter sadness pulling at her mouth.
“Alright, kiddo—let’s get going,” Chuuya says, cutting through the awkward tension before it can grow any larger.
She nods and follows him out the door, acknowledging Kouyou’s farewell with a dip of her chin.
The air outside was just shy of too cold, their breath misting as the two of them made their way through Mafia territories and into more civilian areas. Kyouka wants to ask where they’re going and why, but holds her tongue. Chuuya will tell her if she needs to know.
As they walk, Chuuya starts to hum, a soft, barely audible tune. Perking up, Kyouka increases her pace, walking beside him so she can listen better. His eyes flick towards her, a small smirk appearing on his lips. He holds his hand out to her, increasing his volume.
Kyouka takes his hand without hesitation. His leather glove is smooth against her skin, well worn but obviously cared for. She can still remember how his hand felt in hers months ago, when he’d cleaned blood off of her. He’d been so gentle, so understanding even if he’d been blunt and brutally honest.
But…she’d needed that honesty.
He hadn’t been nice, but he’d been kind.
Which is something she never would have thought she’d associate with someone from the Mafia. The Organisation is dark, cruel, and not somewhere where kindness grows. Yet, if it were possible, he’d have a full garden.
Listening to him sing, Kyouka wonders if she could grow her own, despite being in the dark.
Slick, crimson liquid drips down her hands, sticky and clinging. She scrubs and scrubs but there’s always another patch caught in the lines of her skin, further up her wrist or under her nails. Dried and crusting, a muddy brown against her palms.
It clings to her.
Marking her.
Killer.
She squeezes her eyes shut, pushing the image out of her head. Her throat constricts and she swallows harshly.
No, she could never bloom in this place.
She’d rather wither.
“Do you have a favourite animal?”
Kyouka blinks at the question, caught off guard. She glances up at Chuuya, seeing his eyes flick from her and the sidewalk. Other people pass by them, some looking at their strange clothing while others don’t spare them a glance.
Kyouka mulls his question around in her mind. Dimly, she thinks of soft fur and cute, round balls of fluff. Of pink little noses that twitch as they sniff the air.
She shakes her head.
Chuuya hums, a sound neither disappointed nor content. “I like cats,” he tells her easily. “There were a couple of strays that I used to feed when I lived on the streets. They learned to recognise me and I would be swarmed by a bunch of brats begging for food. There was even one kitten that used to ride around on my shoulder if I let it.”
Kyouka looks up at him, opening her mouth slightly before closing it. He must have read her question on her face though, because he nods.
“I still feed strays occasionally. I can’t keep one myself because of our work, but I like to help when I can. There’s a cat cafe downtown that has a couple, letting you sit and pet the cats while you eat. I go there every once and a while to be with them.”
Kyouka blinks, surprised. She doesn’t understand why he’s telling her this, something that can easily be used to make him seem weak and soft.
How is this man so feared?
“Is that where we’re going?” she asks.
Chuuya smiles but shakes his head. “Nah, but we can another time—if you want to. I have somewhere else in mind today.”
“Where are we going?” she blurts before she can stop herself. She immediately bites her cheek, cursing her curiosity.
Instead of looking mad for questioning him, Chuuya smirks. “It’s a secret.”
Something in her chest settling at the lack of reprimand, Kyouka huffs, puffing out her cheeks. He snickers at her expression and boops her nose with his finger.
“We’re almost there, don’t pout.”
Kyouka scrunches her nose, giving him a look. She isn’t pouting.
Chuuya snorts, covering his mouth with his hand. He hides it well but there’s faint lines around his eyes that betray his smile.
She glares at him, not liking that he was laughing at her.
Caught, he drops his hand, now freely showing the grin on his face. His eyes curve mischievously and before she can react, he reaches out and ruffles her hair.
She ducks away from him, patting it back down, earning her another laugh. She scowls, brushing her bangs back into place. Thankfully, he didn’t mess it up too much.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” he says with a smirk.
She shoots him a light glare, locking her jaw so she doesn’t stick her tongue out at him.
Chuuya chuckles, opening his mouth to say something else but cuts himself off.
“Oh, we’re here. This way,” he tells her, pulling on their still clasped hands to guide her over to a store. She glances at the sign but Chuuya pushes her into the warm building before she can see what they were entering.
“Hello!” A cheerful call greets them immediately and Kyouka looks up to see a young woman approaching from between small cafe tables, an apron tied around her waist. “What can I do for you today?”
Kyouka stares at her.
She’s too cheerful, with a broad smile plastered on her face but not reaching her eyes. Kyouka instinctively backs away from the woman, but when her back hits a solid, immovable chest, she freezes.
“Good morning,” Chuuya says to the woman, a gloved hand coming to rest on Kyouka's shoulder, squeezing gently. “We have a reservation. It should be under Kamiya Takeshi.”
That's not…oh. It takes Kyouka a moment to realise he's using an alias then another to realise why. He's a big name in the underworld, it would be foolish for him to get caught in a random store in the downtown market by using his real name. Kyouka peeks at him through her lashes, trying to figure out what is going on. Normally they would just get ice cream or wander around long enough for her to forget that she’s being trained as an assassin only to crash back to reality when he returns her to Kouyou’s estate.
The woman nods, tapping on the tablet in her hand. “Kamiya-san…” she hums then perks up. “There you are; Kamiya Takeshi and Kyouka. You’re just on time, there’s ten minutes until the next opening. Would you like to get something to eat while you wait?”
"Yes, thank you," he tells her, then guides Kyouka over to the counter. A bored looking cashier straightens as Chuuya draws near, his eyes not leaving the shorter man.
Kyouka follows obediently, but something out of the corner of her eye catches her attention. Automatically, she looks through her lashes at it, anticipating a threat. What she sees causes her to gasp loudly.
The far side of the cafe is penned in by a short plastic barricade with benches lining the walls around the open space. Small food and water dishes are tucked into the corners while black, white, grey, brown and ones with more than one colour balls of fluff laze about or play with one another.
Bunnies.
There are bunnies here, their clean fur appearing so soft as another customer runs her hands down the back of a black and white one. Another, its coat a dusty brown, hops closer to Kyouka and sits up on its back legs. Its little nose wiggles as it sniffs the air and its floppy ears twitch.
Kyouka bites back a squeal as she stares at it.
They’re so cute!
A chuckle snaps her out of her excited daze and Kyouka realises that she’s trotted over to the pen and is leaning over the wall to look closer at the bunnies. She jerks her head around and stares at Chuuya over her shoulder, a tiny seed of dread growing in her chest.
She completely forgot about his order. He indicated that she should follow him to get food but disregarded it in favour of looking at cute animals. If this had been a mission, her superior would be well within their rights to discipline her, usually with a lasting injury.
Kyouka opens her mouth to apologise for the slight but a hand comes to rest on her hair, turning her face back to the small animals.
“They’re really cute, aren’t they?” Chuuya asks cheerfully, a smile in his voice. He bends down so his face is closer to hers, appearing like he’s just getting a closer look but his breath tickles her ear as he whispers, “It’s alright. We’re not on a mission. Act like a normal little girl.”
Kyouka blinks, turning back to the bunnies. She doesn’t relax, but the fear eases, almost fully dissipating. Of course, this was Chuuya-san, she didn’t need to fear him. However, his order didn’t settle as easily as his reassurance.
How can she act like something she’s completely forgotten how to be?
Chuuya doesn’t let her mull it over for long.
“Come on, you can visit with the rabbits after you’ve eaten," he says, standing straight and gently tugging on one of her pigtails.
Reluctantly, Kyouka steps away from the pen, her eyes flicking around the cafe to see who witnessed her lapse in judgement. The large majority of the patrons are busy with their own food or playing with the rabbits but one person caught her gaze. With a completely different smile on her lips from earlier, is the worker that greeted them. Her expression is gentle, the woman's eyes curling up in amusement.
Kyouka turns away swiftly, trotting over to Chuuya to hide herself under his large black coat. Thankfully, the older mafioso doesn’t push her away, instead tucking her under his arm and continuing on like she isn’t there.
A hot feeling in her chest burning her from the inside out, she buries her face into the material of his waistcoat. She doesn’t know how to process the smile the woman gave her. One so full of warmth and softness , something that Kyouka overwhelmingly doesn’t understand. Her skin crawls as if bugs are travelling down her arms and she resists the urge to scratch the feeling away.
How can she smile at her like that?
Like Kyouka doesn't have the blood of at least a dozen people on her hands? Would that expression turn into fear if she knew? Or into disgust? Would she be revolted by her?
Kyouka doesn’t want to find out.
“Kyouka-chan,” Chuuya murmures quietly, the hand on her arm squeezing gently. “What kind of cake do you want?”
Kyouka blinks.
Cake?
Peering out from within Chuuya’s large coat, her eyes flick over the display in front of her. Bright colours swim in front of her vision, different types layed out in an orderly row behind the glass. Some are obviously cut from larger cakes while others are little ones that fit neatly on the small plates. Some are plain looking while others have elaborate decorations of frosting and/or cut fruit covering the tops.
I can have any of these? Kyouka thinks, glancing up at Chuuya. His gaze catches hers and his amused smile falls a little, turning softer, sadder. He shakes it off quickly and hums as he looks back at the display.
“I want that one,” he tells her, pointing at a slice of cream coloured cake with white frosting, cut strawberries adorning it. “They all look really good but that one’s calling to me.”
Kyouka nods slowly as the cashier retrieves it, placing it on the counter with a dessert fork. Pick any that you want, Chuuya is telling her, like he did with the ice cream. She returns her attention to the treats, looking at each of them, carefully judging which one looks the tastiest.
“That one,” she finally says, pointing at a small cake on the right.
Chuuya looks over her shoulder then stifles a laugh. “The bunnie one, huh? Sure, we’ll get that one and two mint teas,” Chuuya tells the cashier, who nods and tells him the total. Chuuya doesn't seem to even hear the amount as he pulls out a card, tapping it on the debit machine.
Kyouka hops a little in place, peeking out from within Chuuya’s coat to lean forwards in anticipation as her chosen cake is set on the counter next to Chuuya’s. It was a small, round shape decorated to resemble a rabbit, the white icing textured to look like fur with a glob of it at the back for the tail. The skin around her lips twitch wearidly, the corners turning upwards.
She abruptly stills, realising that she was smiling.
“Why don’t you take these and go grab us a table?” Chuuya asked, his voice and hand on her shoulder soft and grounding.
Kyouka quickly nods and gathers the two plates. Carefully balancing them on her palms, she glides over to a table close to the pens, so she could easily look over and see the bunnies. Settling, she sits straight and proper, but turns her head to watch the rabbits. She focuses on two, one black and one white, settled side by side. The black one is nibbling on the white rabbit's ear, seeming to try and make itself as much of a nuisance as possible. The white one doesn't seem to care, just continues to chew the bit of lettuce in its mouth. The black one lets go and yawns widely before wiggling so it’s head is under the white ones.
Kyouka stiffles a giggle at how non-pulsed the white one looks, lifting its head to rest it over the black ones.
“You wanted to be as close as possible, didn’t you?” Chuuya asks, placing a teacup infront of her. Kyouka jumps, not hearing him, and turns towards the older mafioso. He isn't looking at her, but surveying the whole cafe before he sits across from her, twisting in his seat to get as much of a view of the room as he can.
A chill drips down her spine and Kyouka realises she’s made another mistake. She should have found them a table in the corner, where he could easily see if anyone is going to attack them. Again, the bunnies distracted her.
“You can eat the cake, you know? I got it for you,” he tells her, picking up his dessert fork and gently nudging a strawberry away from his cake. He spears it with his fork and pops it into his mouth, watching her.
He…isn’t going to say anything?
If this was a test, she’s already failed. Twice.
Her eyes flick around the cafe then back to him, uneasy. Seeing something in her expression, he sighs and slumps onto one arm, propping his chin up on his gloved fist.
“It’s okay, we’re just out to have fun. Don’t worry about work,” he says, blowing gently on his tea and taking a sip. He makes a face at it, putting it down. Grabbing two packets of sugar from the small dish on the table, he sweetened his tea.
Kyouka stares. She wouldn’t have guessed that the man everyone says is terrifying on the battlefield has a sweet tooth.
“What?” Chuuya asks, catching her look. “Shut up. It’s too bitter.”
“I said nothing,” Kyouka informs him pointlessly, but finally picks up her own fork. She hesitates, her eyes flicking back to his face. Nothing indicated that it was a trick, that he was being anything but kind.
Chuuya isn’t like the other mafia members. He doesn't lie to her and it isn’t in his nature to manipulate her into disobedience so he could punish her. She’d forgotten who she was with for a moment.
She’s glad that he’s here with her.
Returning to her cake, she cuts into it with the side of her fork. Eating it, the soft texture of cake melts on her tongue and the taste of vanilla floods her mouth.
“You were thinking it,” Chuuya retorts and takes another sip of his tea. He hums appreciatively and sets the cup down again. “I blame the cake. If it wasn’t so sweet, the tea wouldn’t seem bitter.”
If you say so, Kyouka thinks, sipping from her own cup. It wasn’t that bitter, the mint mixing well with the vanilla still on her tongue. Taking another sip, she eyes him, thinking that he’s a big baby for whining.
Chuuya’s eye twitches, apparently seeing something in her expression. She schools it back to blank, taking another bite of her cake.
“Brat.” Chuuya huffs, and flicks the empty paper packages at her. It floats harmlessly back onto the table in front of her plate.
She snorts lightly in laughter, not able to help herself. It was such an ineffective attack.
Instead of looking disappointed with his unsuccessful accosting, Chuuya blinks, his brows rising. Then a soft smile takes over, his expression the most gentle she's seen him.
"Finish your cake, then you can visit with the fluff balls," Chuuya instructs, cutting another piece of cake with his fork.
"Bunnies," she can't help but correct.
He snorts, looking distinctly amused. "Of course, my mistake."
Kyouka frowns at his sarcastic tone but dismisses it in favour of focusing on her pastry. First cake and tea, then she can pet the bunnies.
She finishes first, carefully setting her fork down on her plate, placing it with the proper etiquette that Kouyou is teaching her. Folding her hands into her lap, she sits perfectly as she stares blankly at Chuuya's half eaten cake.
Eat faster, she thinks impatiently but manages to keep her expression smooth.
Or so she thought.
Chuuya's gaze flicks up to hers while he's taking a bite. He chokes on a laugh and barely manages to keep from spitting the cake out.
Kyouka blinks in mild surprise as he wheezes his amusement. He coughs into his glove, a smile spreading on his face.
" Mon Dieu ," he rasps. "I didn't know you could make that face."
What face ? Kyouka wonders but doesn't get an answer as he waves a hand at the bunnies.
"Don't wait for me, go play with them."
"I really can?" She whispers, glancing longingly at the large rodents.
"Yup, go—shoo. Let me eat in peace," he said sarcastically, but with enough amusement that she knew he was joking.
Not wasting another second, Kyouka scrambled over to the pen gate, where the employee from earlier was waiting.
She smiles, which Kyouka didn't even try to return, too focused on the bunnies. The woman runs her through the do's and don'ts of interacting with the bunnies. Finally, she hands Kyouka a too big apron to tie around her waist, saying it's to keep her clothes clean.
She doesn't know how long she plays with the bunnies, running her hands over their soft fur and feeding them bits of lettuce and rabbit treats they had there. It is slightly overwhelming, interacting with them. She even giggles a little when a smaller bunny decides that her lap was the best place to settle.
Petting it, she's taken aback by how soft they are. She can't remember how long it's been since she touched something like it. The Mafia was filled with sharp, tough edges, ones she had to be careful of, lest she cut herself. Which she had.
Kyouka glances at the thin white scar peeking out from her wrist guards that she'd gotten while learning how to use the tanto.
She regards it silently for a moment, her good mood diminishing with the reminder that this was fleeting.
A bunny bumps her hand with its head, demanding pats, drawing her out of her thoughts. She compiled, running feather-light fingers over its fur, but the damage was done.
This is not her life. It’s best not to allow herself any hope.
But, she will take the time to enjoy it while she has it.
All too soon, Chuuya taps her on the head, signalling that her time is up. She gets up without any fuss, returning the apron to the worker.
The woman takes it with a thoughtful expression, commenting, "Your sister is very well behaved."
Kyouka blinks, her only reaction to being mistaken for Executive Nakahara's sister. She glances up at him, curious to see how he will play this.
He just smiles.
"You don't know how many times I get that. She's just shy," he says easily, pulling his coat back over his shoulders. He must have draped it over his arm while waiting for her.
The woman nods, her expression easing but she doesn't look completely convinced. "I've had shy kids before. They always whine and ask for more time when their hour is up."
Chuuya hums, tucking Kyouka under his arm again and she gratefully hides within the dark folds of his coat. "She's really shy."
The woman backs off, accepting the dismissal that it was. Chuuya doesn’t waste any more time in the shop, leading them out and back into the slightly chilly outside air. Grabbing his hand again, Kyouka walks beside him as they continue the way they were going before entering the cafe.
“Did you have fun with the dust balls?” Chuuya asks aften a moment, breaking the easy silence they had fallen into.
Kyouka nods, clutching his hand a little tighter. “Bunnies,” she whispers as a correction, but it was quiet and not the same as before. She doesn't doubt that Chuuya notices, but she can’t bring herself to care.
“Hey,” he says softly, pulling them into a side alley, “you okay, kiddo?”
Kyouka looks up at him, dully returning his gaze. His sky blue eyes are worried, his brows furrowed. She opens her mouth but her voice catches in her throat, not producing any sound. One hand clutching the phone around her neck, she swallows the restricting lump and tries again.
“They were soft,” she whispers, the quiet truth nowhere near enough to explain but she can’t find any other words.
Chuuya’s shoulders fall slightly and she instantly feels bad. “Oh kid,” he muttered, reaching out to draw her into a hug. She goes easily, letting her forehead fall against his stomach. “I didn’t bring you there to make you sad.”
“It was fun,” she confesses, grabbing his coat and holding it tight. Something about the smooth black fabric is comforting, and she chletches it light like a lifeline.
Maybe it was.
“I love bunnies,” she adds, lifting her gaze to try a smile. “Thank you.”
He regards her silently, a heavy kind of sadness weighing down his features. Finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly.
“Is there anywhere else you want to go today?” he asks, smoothing out his features in an instant, like it hadn’t been there a moment ago.
She gets to choose? She wonders, blinking once.
“Yup,” he answers her unspoken question, popping the word cheerfully. “I have you for the whole day. Is there anywhere you want to go?”
Hesitant, she shakes her head then pauses. “Tofu?” she pleads, tugging on his coat.
Chuuya snorts, a grin stretching across his face. “You got it.”
The rest of the day passes pleasantly, Chuuya allowing Kyouka to dictate their plans. He brings her to a restaurant that has a delicious tofu dish and she eats her fill, smiling in her own way. Chuuya eats some himself, but he doesn't seem as hungry. After that, he brings her to a strange looking building, one that is very loud. Apparently, it’s an arcade and they play a couple of games. Kyouka doesn't really know what to think about that one, but Chuuya has a slightly sad, nostalgic smile on his face so she doesn't say anything.
They play a weird game where you try and grab a stuffed animal with a claw. She misses twice before Chuuya tries, and he ends up winning her a small plushie, a little black cat. Taking it from him, she glances at the little rabbit stuffies behind the glass of the claw machine before clutching it to her chest.
Even if it isn’t her favourite, he still got it for her.
When they finally leave the arcade, the sun is dipping towards the horizon, painting the sky a soft golden colour. They walked back towards Mafia territory, the evening sun in front of them.
Chuuya humms, looking up at the sunset. The wind blows at his hair, making the coppery strangs to shift around his face. The gold chain attached to his hat clicks gently as the metal hits against itself. The wind isn’t strong enough to blow it away, but he lifts a hand to keep his black hat on his head.
Kyouka watches him silently. She’s never seen him without that hat. She wonders why it was so important.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, still staring at the sky.
She straightens, her eyes widening slightly.
Did she trust him? Why was he asking her that?
Was it a trick, she wonders, letting her eyes fall back into their natural half-lidded state. Taking her out on a wonderful day without the threat of orders or punishment hanging over her head, then asking her that?
She must have taken too long to answer because his glaze flicks down to hers, his iris seeming to reflect the expanse above them.
“There’s no right answer,” he tells her, a not quite right smile pulling at his lips. “I understand if you don’t, Kyouka-chan. I certainly wouldn’t. I didn’t start trusting our group for a good year or so after joining. I don’t expect anything.”
Kyouka tilts her head quickly.
Chuuya hadn’t trusted the Mafia?
It almost feels like blasphemy, the man that seemed to carry the weight of the whole Mafia on his shoulders not trusting it.
However, she got what he was trying to say.
If he was asking her to trust the Mafia, or even Kouyou, she wouldn’t be able to answer truthfully. It was too dark, too filled with death for her to trust it.
Not with her life.
But that wasn’t what he’d asked.
He asked if she trusts him.
“I trust you,” she admits quietly.
Chuuya blinks, a genuine flash of shock making him look younger than she’d seen him before. His eyes softened quickly, an equally affectionate smile crossing his face.
He knelt, so he was closer to her eye level. He took her hand in his gloved one, squeezing gently. “I have one other thing to show you today, but I need to use my Ability on you. That okay?”
Curious, Kyouka nods.
Given permission, he stands, wrapping one arm around her back and lifts her easily like a child. She felt a strange weightless sensation and she watched as his form started to glow red. She stares up at him, unblinking as he bends his knees then jumps. Without further warning, Kyouka is yanked up into the air, and she yelps. On instinct, she clutches onto him, her hands gripping the material of his jacket where it lay on his shoulders. She closes her eyes tightly, curling her legs to her chest. Wind tossed her hair around and the air got steadily colder.
Chuuya chuckled, his laugh echoing around them. “Open your eyes, kiddo. I won’t let you fall,” he teases.
Doubtful, but dutiful, she complies then gasps at the view in front of them. Chuuya had flown them hundreds of metres above Yokohama, giving her a clear view of the sunset of a wide expanse of water and the large continent that was just on the horizon.
“Pretty,” she says, awe coating her voice.
“It sure is,” Chuuya agrees. Holding her close, with both arms wrapping around her legs as she practically sits on his upper arm, they float easily over Japan. There was a strange sense of peace to his expression, like nothing could reach him up this high in the sky.
She nods, turning back to the horizon. Sunlight glittered across the ocean, turning the waves into temporary jewels. The soft clouds dusted around the sun were orange, turning purple the closer to the earth that they were.
“How high can you go?” she asks, breathless, not taking her eyes from the gorgeous view.
“Very,” he brags, and hearing the grin in his voice, she glanced to make sure it was there. She was right, his teeth were bared in an almost wolfish smile.
“Gravity doesn't matter to me. The most I have to worry about is how much air is up here,” he added after a beat, his smile sharpening just slightly.
Kyouka stares at him, her lips parting in shock.
No wonder people say he’s the strongest person alive, she thinks. If gravity itself was at her beck and call…would she be that strong too?
Following his lead, she looks back to the orange sky, her bangs shifting in the wind.
But she's not. Her Ability could do nothing but kill.
“Happy Birthday, Kyouka-chan,” Chuuya says, snapping her out of her darkening thoughts.
She blinks. Birthday?
It was November, she realises with a start. It must be the fourth—she was turning thirteen.
She hugs the black kitty plush against her front.
It’s her Birthday and she didn’t even realise it.
But Chuuya had.
He’d learned it and took her out so she wouldn’t have to kill anyone on her Birthday.
Her eyes sting and she sniffs, a feeling she doesn’t understand building in her chest. It’s so warm that it almost feels like it will burn her, spreading over her heart.
“Thank you,” she gets out between sniffles. “Thank you.”
“No problem, kid,” he says, lowering her so he could draw her close for a hug. She buries her face against his chest, trying and failing to hold back her tears. She thanks him a couple more times but he doesn't scold her for being repetitive.
He cradles her close as they gently sink back to the ground.
It was a good birthday, despite everything, she decides as they walk back to Kouyou’s estate. Since Kyouka wanted to stay out for a little longer, Chuuya had landed them a decent distance from the other Executive's home.
The sun was fully setting, bathing the streets in an fiery glow while leaving other patches darker. They easily slip into those spots, getting lost in the winding pathways of the city.
Setting an easy pace, Chuuya pulls out a cigarette, cupping his glove around the end as he lights it. The sharp click of his lighter closing echoed off the tall alleyway walls, but strangely enough, Kyouka didn't find it felt like a lock falling into place.
She should have. Kyouka has only seen him smoke while working, forgoing it when he takes her out.
However, now it felt mundane, something that easily fell into place with the rest of the day.
Tucking the lighter back into his waistcoat pocket, he inhales before releasing a small cloud of smoke. Kyouka' nose twitches at the unpleasant smell, but doesn't complain.
It's normal, she realises distantly. She's been in the Mafia long enough and in Chuuya company that she's become desensitised to it.
She presses her lips into a thin line.
She isn't sure if that's something to be happy about.
But, it is what it is.
Their walk continues in companionable silence, neither in the mood to talk. Kyouka appreciates the reprieve from any chatter, not having the brain power to pick apart what is true or lies.
Not that she thinks Chuuya would lie to her, but it's nice to have the break regardless.
Multiple loud cracks of guns going off shatters the peace. Kyoukas heart leaps into her throat and a glove hand claps down on her shoulder.
She jerks in place, reaching for her tanto. She only stops when she realises that Chuuya's the one holding her shoulder, the other casually holding his near finished cigarette to his mouth as he inhaled.
"That wasn't very nice," he says, his tone akin to a large cat. Relaxed and laid back, but hardened steel just under the surface.
Crushing the cigarette in his fingers, he flicked the butt to the side, turning with an exhale of smoke. A seed of unease growing in her chest, Kyouka mimics him, shifting to look behind them.
A group of men were clustered at the other end of the dark alley, pointing guns at them. There were at least half a dozen, all armed to the teeth. However, Kyouka barely acknowledges them, instead focusing on the three bullets suspended in air in front of Chuuya. They were tinged in red, hovering at his chest height.
Kyouka swallows thickly.
If he hadn’t reacted in time…
That would have killed him.
“Can I help you boys?” Chuuya asks pleasantly, tilting his head slightly. As he spoke, the bullets hovering between them dropped to the ground with soft clinks, the sound deafening in the still air.
One hand still resting on her shoulder, he placed the other on his hip, appearing like he was scolding his squad, not staring down a group of hostiles.
“Yeah, you can help us by dying,” the man in the front hisses, lifting his gun a little higher.
It’s shaking.
“Very creative,” Chuuya deadpans. “That’s the most original comeback I've ever received.”
“Shut up!” another shouted. “It’s your fault our friends are dead. We’re only paying you back!”
“Oh?” Chuuya hums, his eyelids half closed in disinterest. “Who are you?”
“Tch. Of course you don’t remember us,” he spits to the side. “You’re nothing but the Mafia’s attack dog. Your partner was the one with the brains.”
“Hah?” Chuuya growled, his tone far more angry than a second ago. “What did you just say?”
Kyouka glanced at him, incredulous. That was what he reacted to? Her hands are slightly shaking as she clutches her tanto. The way things are going, it looks like a fight is going to break out.
She doesn't want to kill anyone, but if they attack, she’ll defend herself.
“Enough talk,” another voice snarls, stepping to the front. This one is dressed slightly differently, her yukata a little worn but still lovely. Her face, which Kyouka would have described as pretty, is twisted into a snarl, her painted lips parted to show teeth.
“Little gangs like ours obviously don’t matter to him; there is no use conversing with him,” she says, placing her hands on their hips.
“Ah, that’s who you are.” Chuuya’s demeanor settles, sliding back into calm like he’d never yelled at them.
“Oh?”
Chuuya makes a sound of agreement, his posture relaxing. “You’re left overs from the Red Spiders, a minor gang that the Mafia whipped out four years ago.”
The group collectively pauses in surprise, a couple murmuring to each other while their leader (?) blinks in shock, her snarl falling off her face.
Kyouka was right, she is pretty.
The snarl returns just as quickly, twisting her face even further. “Fuck you. You have no right to say that name.”
“Touchy,” Chuuya mutters, tilting his head just so. “Of course I have the right. You were the ones dealing with human traffickers. If you’d kept your greedy mits off of that kind of goods, the Mafia would have left you alone.”
“We didn’t know that’s what they were doing!” one of the men in the back yells.
Chuuya arches a brow, unimpressed. “You should have done your homework then. Pity. Tsuchigumo-san, your Ability would have been particularly useful.”
Tsuchigumo(?) rears back like Chuuya had slapped her. “You fucker—” she starts then cuts herself off with a wordless snarl. Her hand snaps out, faster than Kyouka can track. She jumps back in alarm, drawing her tanto but freezes.
In front of his face, Chuuya is gripping strands of something that looks like white string. They had come out of Tsuchigumo’s sleeves, shooting towards Chuuya with deadly accuracy. Tsuchigumo’s mouth was open, wide with shock. She jerks her arm back, but Chuuya’s hold doesn't even budge. The string—spider silk Kyouka realises—is taut between them, stretched as far as it can go. The Ability user's eyes are wide, desperately looking for a way out.
Then her eyes flick to Kyouka, still half behind Chuuya.
Tsuchigumo flings out her other arm and another spike of silk shoots towards her. Kyouka doesn't know what they would have done—tried to use her as a hostage or kill her—but she will never know because Chuuya bats it away with his free arm, snapping his leg up and then down to stomp on it.
“Let go—” Tsuchigumo starts but Chuuya cuts her off.
“You really should have stayed in the shadows,” he growls, clearly done with them.
A blast of wind makes Kyouka stumble back, shielding her eyes briefly. Blinking kicked up dust out of her eyes, she peeks at the gang, her tanto ready. Her battle ready stance immediately falls, barely able to believe the scene in front of her.
All of them were on the ground, except for the Ability user. Chuuya has her by her neck, easily lifting her off the ground. Her legs kick uselessly as red painted nails claw at his wrist, looking for any weakness. Chuuya doesn't seem to be bothered, acting like the woman was hanging limply.
“I would have let you go,” Chuuya says quietly but Kyouka still hears the deadly tone. “You were stupid, thinking that you could have taken me out, but that really isn’t worth dealing with. You’re a bunch of tiny dogs yapping at a wolf pack. But, then you attacked Kyouka-chan,” he adds, tightening his grip.
Tsuchigumo gasps, her desperate clawing getting more frantic.
“You attacked a little girl just to get at me. You’re not worth keeping alive.”
“P-please,” she pleads, barely able to speak.
Chuuya snaps her neck, twisting his grip just enough to kill her. He lets her body fall, landing in a clump at his feet. The men sprawled around them groaning, a couple trying to get up before falling back to the ground.
Chuuya doesn't say anything else to them, instead turning to face Kyouka. “Are you alright?” he asks.
Kyouka stares at him, a chill filling her.
He killed that woman. Snapping her neck like it was nothing.
And the first thing he does is ask if she’s okay.
She had no idea how to feel about that.
She can’t bring herself to say anything.
Chuuya seems to understand that, his face falling and closing off behind a mask. One she recognizes. He wore it briefly before, when he told her to be careful.
He sighs lightly through his nose, digging in his pocket to retrieve his phone. He flips it open and presses one button. Bringing it to his ear he waits for a moment before speaking.
“This is Executive Nakahara. I need a clean up crew.”
Kyouka waits to the side as Nakahara speaks quietly with another Mafioso, who she can only assume is the leader of the clean up crew. Kyouka watches it all blankly, holding the black kitty plush tightly against her chest. She feels disconnected to her body as people seamlessly gather up the gang, regardless if they are alive or not.
Chuuya is straight backed and appears larger than his small stature allows, the weight of his authority making Kyouka feel small. The coat draped over his shoulders gives him a broader silhouette and the light click of the chain on his hat as he moves sounds deadly now, instead of peaceful.
She can see it now.
Soukoku. Double Black.
She can see how devastatingly powerful Nakahara Chuuya is, even if his power is crippled. In between all the fear and prais, some of the grunts had whispered that he’s a shell of his former strengths—the broken half, left floundering without the brains of the duo.
That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Kyouka can kill without her Ability, but it takes work and relies on the element of surprise. They were ambushed and Chuuya still came out on top, barely using his Ability at all.
Taking in his relaxed posture and easy smile as he talked with the other Mafioso, Kyouka wonders how he can live with it. Not his willingness to kill, but the amount of power he holds. How did he not crumble under the weight?
She can barely keep herself breathing while Demond Snow threatens to drown her.
Chuuya carries For The Tainted Sorrow like he was born for it.
She blinks.
Tainted Sorrow.
Why is it called that? He doesn't look sad.
“Come on, kid,” a soft voice interrupts her thoughts, drawing her out of them. She tilts her head up to see who spoke. Sombre blue eyes barely look back at her, Chuuya’s gaze only resting on her for a moment before darting away.
Is he ashamed? She wonders as she nods, falling into step with him easily. The sound of their footsteps are the only thing that fill the air as they walk away from the clean up crew. Apparently they are done and Chuuya is bringing her back to Kouyou.
He's stomping, she realises. His steps are a little louder than before, when she’d been barely able to hear him. His hands are shoved into his trouser pockets and his shoulders are a millimeter higher than normal.
He’s upset.
Why?
Because he killed in front of her? Others in the Mafia have done that before. Kouyou has brought people in specifically to show her how and which techniques are the most lethal.
He isn’t the first nor, she thinks, will he be the last.
So why is he sulking?
Chuuya glances over his shoulder to peek at her before looking away just as quickly.
Ah.
He cares.
He didn’t want to kill them, like he told that Ability user. He was going to let them go, but then when she attacked Kyouka that turned an irritant into a threat.
That’s why his expression had been familiar. It had been cold and protective, not heartless. He will sully his hands, regardless of how she thinks of him if only she will be okay.
A small seed of warmth filled her chest and she trots forwards to touch his arm.
“Hmm?” he jolts, looking down at her. “Kyouka-chan?”
“I’m not scared,” she says simply. She shift the plush so it's tucked under her arm and holds out her hand.
Chuuya’s jaw opens slightly, blinking owlishly down at her. “Y-you’re not?”
She shakes her head. “It was good,” she tells him. He'd given her a birthday to remember, omitting the ambush altogether. That wasn’t something he had planned so she isn’t going to blame him for it.
Her hand hangs between them, still holding out for him to take.
After a brief hesitation, he does. The familiar smoothness of his leather gloves rub soothingly against her palm and they continue their walk in companionable silence.
He is dangerous, a criminal and a killer, but not someone she had to be scared off.
At least she knows now that despite the world being against her, she had at least one ally. She’ll treasure the gift that it is.